Monday, December 04, 2006

You can call me Ray, or you can call me Jay, or you can call me Juror Number Eleven


I'll be spending the next couple weeks doing my civic duty, passing judgment on one of my peers. Dammit!

I'm building an impressive jury resume. Nine years ago it was my duty and privilege to send a woman-murdering, child-slashing piece of human shit to Death Row. I keep a Google alert going to let me know when his time comes up.

Before that I'd done a one-day, in and out civil case over a rear-ender. No, no, a traffic accident. Sicko.

Now I'll be adding armed robbery and home invasion. Damn, I must have something they like. Or, both sides were out of dismissals. I think that was probably it. I've been dinged by the defense before. Once they hear I did a murder trial, I'm gone. Not so lucky this time.

Oh, well. At least I'll get to sleep at night for a while. And not on the job, but in a bed.

Also, the lead defense counsel bears a striking resemblance to Angelina Jolie in glasses.

So, like, things could be worse.

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