Crazy-Pops

Ah crap, I got a subpoena today. Yes, a real one. To go testify for a guy who's suing a contractor that I did some work for blahblahblah. Yipee-kye-freaking-yay. Nothing like getting in the middle of an argument between people who have lawyers, huh? Why can't we all just get along? Or you - you, there, you with the loud voice - you just take your ball and go home and the rest of us'll go to DQ and get a dipped cone and everything'll be hunky dorey once again. In fact, I think I'll do that - I'll show up to court in two weeks with dipped freaking cones for everybody. Then maybe they'll all see the error of their argument and beautiful music'll start playing and we'll all have a picnic on the grass, with our dipped freaking cones. And people'll say they're sorry to each other. And I can take my ball and go home. 'Cuz my work there will be done.

I'd be really bothered by this except I've already been an expert witness twice and I just served jury duty. And I was somehow the jury foreman during that. Which I should really write about. Okay, I will - this weekend. Look for it. It was a good time. In a sarcastic sort of way.