Guess what, kids?! It’s that time of year again when I compose my list of things that should just go away in the upcoming year. I’ve spent countless hours researching the things normal Americans are tired of hearing about. In other words, in my spare time (which equated to exactly 32 minutes last year), I made a list of things I hate. This one might piss off a few of you, but I’m putting it out there anyways. I decided I am going to be giving less fucks this year about what people think of me.
- Donald Trump. Congrats for making the top spot on my list this year! In his short time in running for POTUS, he’s managed to alienate about every group of Americans: women, minorities, immigrants, the disabled, anyone who’s NOT Protestant, and basically anyone who doesn’t agree with him. You ever notice that when Trump doesn’t have a valid argument to any criticism of him, he just resorts to calling that person a loser on Twitter? This asshat had the audacity to demand an apology from a disabled reporter who he publicly mocked on camera. Even after being presented with video evidence of his extreme asshatted-ness, he still denies he did any wrong. That behavior has a name and it’s called GASLIGHTING. Listen Linda, there weren’t thousands of Muslims in your neighborhood celebrating the attacks of September 11, 2001, and suggesting otherwise just makes you look like a fucking idiot. And when you get called out on that, the appropriate answer isn’t to make fun of a disability of the person who denies your claim. I don’t know who your handlers are, but they should be let go straight away. They aren’t doing you any favors. I’m quite certain this Trump campaign is all a ruse to divide the Republican vote OR it’s just a reality show/social experiment in the making.
- KCaitlyn Jenner. First off, I’ll say kudos to Caitlyn for having the courage to come forth as a transgendered person. I’m sure she’s helped many people who are experiencing the same path and I won’t discount that part of her journey, because I’m not an insensitive asshole, despite what you’ve heard about me. However, I will say, as a woman, I don’t agree with the entities who name her woman of the year. A REAL woman wouldn’t even have accepted such accolades, because we’re always putting other people first (just some food for thought). Regardless of her contributions to furthering the status of transgendered persons, she will never know the real struggles that women face in today’s American society, and to suggest otherwise is a slap in the face of women. She’s never been a single parent struggling to make ends meet because her children’s father won’t pay child support. She has never been a woman in need of an abortion to save her life and forced to travel over state lines to survive (yes, that STILL happens TODAY). She has never been a woman who makes less money than her male counterparts for equal work. I don’t care what you say, even with the advancements women have made in the last 100 years, we still are NOT on equal grounds with American males. Yay Caitlyn for what you’ve accomplished to recognize the struggles of transgendered people, but you do not represent the struggles of women in today’s society. So, stop it. And oh by the way, it would also be nice if you quit texting while driving. We already get enough shit about our driving skills.
- The Joint Facebook Account. Oh, we get it, you’re in looove. You are two souls connected as one. You are so united into one, you only need one Facebook account to share. You share everything; you have the same friends and likes and you’ll be together forever and ever. Except not really. Everyone on Facebook in 2016 is keen to the Unwritten Facebook Rules. The Joint Facebook Account = one of you cheated and lost your privacy rights forever and ever. The only thing we’re curious about – who’s the cheater? The Facebook audience will automatically deduce it’s the one who’s exalted as the best spouse ever for that outrageously huge flower bouquet that was sent for no reason at all…
- Speaking of Facebook, quit liking posts that are bad. Every time I log onto Facebook and I see someone has liked a post about a fatal accident or someone’s untimely demise, I cringe. Do you like fatal fiery crashes? Do you like that someone died? I’m confused. Granted, sometimes a death is a blessing in disguise, but show some social dignity and quit liking that shit. Jeebus.
- The Two Lane Drive-Thru. Yes, this was on last year’s list, and I only mention it this year because it was undoubtedly my most popular post this year, even though I didn’t write it this year. Every time I get a notification from WordPress that my stats are booming, it’s due to someone sharing this post. People love it; hence, they hate the two lane drive thru. I don’t blame them. Each time I approach Window One, I’m asked what my order is, and each time I make it to Window Two, I’m presented with an order that is not mine. Hey dipshit, the lady in front of you didn’t pay for your order on purpose in act of “paying it forward,” she did it because the fine folks at Mickey D’s can’t get their shit straight. Which totally sucks when the guy behind you ordered $33.67 worth of food that you felt obligated to buy because the chick in front of you paid for your $3 McLatte. Sucker. But hey, don’t feel too bad; you’ll get 187 likes on Facebook for your act of generosity.
- Can we pretty please stop saying things like “adulting is hard”? I know it’s cute and there’s an equally cute meme expressing such, but adulting isn’t really a word. Just like the Oxford Dictionary proclaimed an emoticon as word of the year, this is a non-phenomenon that we should just stop doing. You don’t see me say I’m “chickening” things tonight when I’m making fried chicken for dinner or “wining is fun” when I’m drinking wine. Technically, “adulting” includes many activities, most of which are included under the term of being mature. Wouldn’t it be more appropriate to proclaim that we are exercising maturity by not cussing out our coworkers when things don’t go our way? I do this almost every single day and I don’t expect anyone to give me an award for it. But then again, I grew up in the age of people not owing me shit for sucking air.
- The Must Click Headline. Apparently, writing has taken a backseat to gaining attention. If you can write a headline proclaiming that this is a story I could never believe happening, then you should also be capable of writing a story I can’t believe. If you can’t, then stop it. I’m not clicking on these links anymore and I encourage you to do the same. Stop feeding these attention hos and they will go away. I mean do you really want to see someone’s boil lanced, for real? Quit being a dipshit. You’re just contributing to the problem.
- Britches down to the knees. I thought by now this little fad would have died, but alas I was in the drive-thru today and I saw two young men at Wendy’s with their britches down around their knees. Thank goodness they were wearing their casually chic baggy boxer briefs under said britches. No day is complete without seeing a stranger’s underwear – especially when it’s a child. Jeebus, I felt like a pedophile. Look, unless you ARE an underwear model, or David Beckham (who is actually an underwear model), nobody wants to see your undies anytime, much less than when they are trying to enjoy a meal.
- The Go Fund Me Thing. I’m probably going to be labeled an asshole for this, but I LOATHE these things. Now, I’m not against donating to people or causes. I think it’s natural to want to help out when someone is in need, but this whole setting up a web page to collect money via credit card bothers me and I’m not sure I can even express adequately in words why it does. It just gives me that creepy crawly feeling. Hell, maybe I should just go with the flow and set one up for that Caribbean vacation and/or tummy tuck I’ve been wanting. What ever happened to the old-fashioned word of mouth that someone was in need and the community comes together to aid in the situation? Yeah, I’m turning into one of those old women who yell, “Get off my lawn!”
- The Elaborate Prom/Homecoming Proposal. So I guess it’s a thing now that boys must plan an elaborate way to ask girls to prom that includes props, signs, weeks of planning, and no doubt more of their parents dollars, in order to simply secure a date for one magical night of dinner and dancing twerking in formal attire. If teen girls get accustomed to this kind of treatment for prom, what in the hell is going to have to happen when a man proposes for marriage? We are just setting these kids up for failure by setting a standard that is unattainable once they enter a working world on entry level wages. Whatever happened to going on a fancy date (because that’s all prom really is) with a guy you like? It’s hard enough to be an awkward teenager with limited resources and life experiences; must we really also now expect them to be Pinterest savvy, hipster Prince Charmings to boot? Just shoot me now and save me from this pending state of hell. My high school aged children can’t even bring home a school photo order form in a timely fashion. How in the hell am I supposed to orchestrate a moment in time that will be the viral envy of Instagram?! My eye is twitching as I type this.
Whew! Thanks for hanging in there until the bitter end. I wish all of you a Happy and Fun (fuck healthy – we’re all doing to die) 2016. I hope the things that drive you bat shit crazy disappear. If they don’t, and Trump is actually elected president, you can join me in my new country, the Bahamas, for a cocktail. Please feel free to use this space to tell us what you want to see disappear this year… I’d love to hear your thoughts.
Cheers, my loves! Thank you for reading me in 2015 and I hope you’ll continue the same into 2016. Love you more than Grey Goose.
Well there is no denying it now; it’s officially the Christmas season. I’ve been trying to ignore the upcoming holiday since mid-October, when the retailers start putting out Christmas crap, people start decorating everything in thousands of tiny twinkle lights, and we are subjected to Santa Baby blaring ad nauseam on the radio. I’m not going to lie. I don’t particularly like Christmas, with the exception of the 1 ½ days I don’t have to work but still get paid.
One of the things I detest most about Christmas is that dreaded letter some people feel the need to send out bragging about all the great things their family did this year. I don’t get these anymore because I quit sending out Christmas cards about 7 years ago and I guess through the rule of reciprocity, I’ve dropped off all the lists I was previously on. So if you think this blog is about you, you are wrong. Any semblance of you in this piece is purely coincidental.
Now you know that nobody’s life is as great as they portray in the dreaded Christmas Letter. Yet, it always makes you feel a bit inferior. It’s a shame people even feel the need to do this to their friends. I guess the art of being humble died with The Cleaver Family. And quite frankly, with the advent of Facebook, we are all well aware of everything you and your family did this year, so the whole point of the Christmas Letter is now moot.
Anyhoo, I thought it would be fun to compose a fake Christmas Letter that would closely resemble what you might receive this year and then translate that into what really is going on with your Stepford Friends. Then you won’t feel so inferior, and hopefully we can have some laughs during this crazy, stressful time of year.
Dear anyone who will actually read my incessant boring drivel,
Wow! It’s so hard to believe 2015 is almost over! It’s been a crazy, busy year for the Jones Family, but as always we have been so blessed! We’ve decided to write this letter to share all our blessings with our beloved friends.
Nothing amazing really happened to us this year, but we are going to sugar coat the hell out of normal for you so that you will feel like your life sucks and you’ll try ten times harder next year to keep up with our amazing fake life.
First off, Bill and Jane celebrated their 25th anniversary of wedded bliss this summer. They enjoyed a romantic dinner where Bill presented Jane with a bouquet of roses and a present from her favorite jewelry store. They were hoping to take a second honeymoon to Hawaii, but with Bill’s demanding work schedule and the kids’ activities, there simply wasn’t any time! But next spring, they plan on a little exclusive trip to celebrate the occasion!
We are referring to ourselves in the third person because we think it makes us sound more important. We actually hate each other and barely speak to each other unless we need to figure out who is picking up the kids after practice. We went to dinner at B-Dubs. Bill watched Monday Night Football and I looked at Facebook on my phone. There were no roses and Bill gave me a heart bead for my Pandora bracelet. I think Bill is having an affair and the only trips I’m taking are to Kroger to buy groceries.
Stephen, our oldest child, is in his senior year of high school. In addition to being an honor student, he is also a star on the basketball team, and volunteers at the soup kitchen every weekend. Every week there are a ton of letters from colleges just pouring in begging him to choose them. He really wants to stay close to home but we are hoping he picks Harvard!
Stephen is barely passing his classes because he’s a pot head. He used to ride the bench in basketball, but now he’s off the team because juvenile court ordered him to do community service for that little traffic accident where the police officer found a joint in his car. He will be attending community college because no other institution of higher learning will accept him.
Susie just started her freshman year and is already making quite the mark on her high school. Our little beauty is a proud member of the dance team, yearbook committee, and she was chosen as the freshman attendant for the homecoming court. Bill has been joking that he’ll have to get a shot gun just to keep all the boys at bay! Shortly after homecoming, she donated 12 inches of her hair to Locks of Love. What a blessing this young lady is to our lives!
Our little Susie turned into a hoochie mama when she entered high school. She has become a YouTube twerking sensation, which led her fellow male classmates into voting her homecoming attendant. Now they are beating the door down in hopes of an easy score. Bill made her cut her hair in hopes that it would be a huge turn off to the young lads, but I don’t think it’s her hair that’s attracting the little twits.
Sean is finishing up his last year in junior high. We are just relishing the time our youngest child spends at home before he enters into high school. Jane and Sean routinely spend the weekends baking spectacular cakes and designing Halloween costumes for the family. In addition, Jane and Sean have cultivated quite the herb garden, so every meal is accentuated with fresh, homegrown goodness.
Sean never leaves the house. He has social anxiety and we are pretty sure he’s gay. Bill is horrified, but I’m thinking he’s our best bet at having a child with a normal marriage that will result in grandchildren. Plus, he makes a killer Chicken Divan.
The Jones Family has had such a blessed year. We hope your family has experienced the same joy we’ve had! We can’t wait to see what the New Year holds for us all. We all wish you the Merriest of Christmases and the Happiest of New Years!
Our year was no more special than yours, but I really want you to be jealous of how great my life is. Next year I fully expect Bill will run off with his secretary, Stephen will end up in jail, Susie will make me a grandma, and Sean will probably stick his head in the oven right before the Chicken Divan is done. The highlight of my week is flirting with the bag boy at Kroger and if I weren’t worried about what all you assholes would say at the next PTO meeting, I’d totally do him.
The Jones Family
I don’t think I’ve ever been more disappointed in my life than I was this week when I got wind that the Oxford Dictionary Word of the Year wasn’t actually a word. You may not know this, but I’m a huge fan of words. I totally got my panties in a bunch when the dictionary decided that the word “literally” didn’t actually have to mean literally because so many people were using it wrong. What the hell, let’s just cave to the masses and make it mean something entirely different!
As I said previously, there are so many words in the English language that we never use that are so spectacular. We don’t need to change the definition of a few words to relate to the dumbasses who don’t own a dictionary. And we most definitely don’t need to add emoticons as words because people are too lazy to ACTUALLY USE WORDS.
Don’t get me wrong. I love emoticons. They are fabulous. For texting. But when I am laughing so hard I’m crying in REAL LIFE, I can’t just hold up a crying-so-hard-I’m-laughing pillow that I picked up at a kiosk in the mall, because mainly my purse isn’t that big and, well, that’s just not convenient.
I can, perhaps, state that I am verklempt. Or elated. How about euphoric or overcome with tears of joy. Exalted, jubilant, animated, aroused, enraptured, exhilarated, intoxicated, blissful, gleeful, joyous, on cloud nine, rapturous, or overwrought with emotion.
And I came up with all of those without even trying that hard. Mostly because I own a thesaurus. Which I’m sure that the Oxford Dictionary, and most of the free world, has now forgotten even exists.
So the next time you’re feeling all , hopefully, you’ll have cell phone handy to describe how you feel. And anyone who doesn’t will just see ☐, which will totally describe how you feel, unless you have that emoticon pillow in your back pocket to describe how you really feel.
Thanks, Oxford Dictionary.
It may be a little late in the race, but I’ve decided I’m running for president. I figure if Donald Trump, this guy, and Deez Nuts can run, then why can’t I? I’m fairly certain I’m more qualified than two of those yahoos. I’ll let you guess which two. Hint – Donald Trump is one of them.
I know it’s important to have a solid platform when running for president and I guarantee mine is just that. For instance, I’ve decided that the one thing America is missing is the three-martini lunch. I don’t know about you, but I am way more productive after I’ve had a couple of drinks. Matter of fact, after three martinis, I can solve any problem thrown my way. Just ask my girlfriends. I routinely solve all the world’s ills on any given Saturday or Tuesday night.
Another thing America is missing is creativity. That’s why I’ll propose a four-day work week. I hereby declare that Fridays will be dedicated to being creative. All mundane work shall be halted on this day so that our citizens can engage in the creative arts. I’d also suggest you continue to have your three martini lunch on this day. I don’t know about you, but martinis make me more creative.
I’ll also propose that any activity that involves your body and your doctor is none of the country’s business. We don’t need to know if you have chronic diarrhea (I can never spell that word), who you’re having sex with or how frequently, or that your cholesterol is off the charts. We’ve been brainwashed into thinking we need insurance. My theory is that insurance is the whole damn problem with healthcare. I won’t require you to buy health insurance. Matter of fact, I think if we did away with mandatory insurance, health care costs would plummet because then doctors could actually charge a fee that would cover their costs and not inflate their costs in order to get what they need to cover their expenses. Instead of requiring you to buy insurance, I would give you a tax break when you pay for your medical expenses and devote a portion of your income into a health care account to cover those expenses. Oh and there will be a huge penalty to anyone using the damn ER for an ear infection. That ain’t no emergency. Listen up folks… before heading to the ER ask yourself, are you faced with the loss of life, limb, or eye? Yes? Go to the ER. No? Wait ‘til the morning and call your doc. Whew… don’t get me started.
In regards to immigration, I say if you’re in this country and you’re holding down a job and contributing positively to the economy and not breaking any laws, you can stay! I’m going to have to ask you to pay some income taxes, but that’s only fair. I have to pay taxes, so you should too. However, if you’re an American citizen not holding down a job, committing crimes, and draining the country of its resources, then I’m going to have to ask you to leave. It’s like Survivor. You’re voted off the country. I don’t really care where you go. If you can con Canada into taking you, that’s great. I hear the poutine is delicious.
And you know what? If you’re a law-abiding citizen then you can have a gun. Matter of fact, you can have a whole arsenal if you want. In my line of work, I’ve come to see that criminals will get their tools regardless of what laws our government enacts upon the control of said tools. Now, I don’t have the answer to stopping the criminals from getting their tools, but then again, I haven’t had enough martinis yet. I’ll get back to you on that. See, isn’t honesty from a politician refreshing?
Somewhat on the same line, I say legalize pot for everyone. When’s the last time you saw a pothead rob a bank? I’ll tell you when. Never. He may be thinking about robbing a bank, but after he got high, he raided his cabinets for snack foods and fell asleep on the couch while watching reruns of The Simpsons. The following morning, he has no memory of that idea and heads to work at the Walmarts. He’s not bugging you.
I also don’t like when our Congress sits around like a bunch of little stubborn kids butting heads over how things should be handled. I think they need a little lesson in cooperation. I’m going to break it down for them Sesame Street style. Every time they butt heads, I’m going to make them sit on a big comfy couch and hold hands until they can compromise. It’s what this country has needed for a long time – a good, stern mother to get things in order.
So there you go. When you head to the polls in November, vote for Helle.
P.S. This blog is tongue in cheek. Don’t get your panties all in a twist and start sending me political hate mail. That job doesn’t pay enough for me to take it. Cheers!
There’s been something bothering me and I feel like I need to get if off my chest. It seems lately that no one can write a damn news article anymore. Everything has to be a slideshow or a video. And it’s driving me bonkers.
I have to be on a computer all day for work, so the last thing I want to do when I get home is get on my computer. I want to cozy up on the couch, with a beverage, and check out interesting Internet content on my phone or iPad during TV commercials. I don’t want to watch the news because it’s too damn depressing, so I end up looking at a few sites I know and enjoy to remain somewhat informed and entertained.
For example, I really wanted to read the 15 Essential Must Haves for Fall! But it was a slideshow, and after 20 minutes of trying to x-out stupid pop-ups ads and waiting for the slides to load, I got aggravated and decided I’d just make up my own essential fall wardrobe. Another interesting one I missed out on was the 25 Most Hilarious License Plates Ever! Man, do I love a creative and/or punny license plate. But clicking through 25 slides to see them? I’d rather scoop my eyeballs out with a dull, rusty spoon. And let me tell you, there is nothing more disappointing than wading through the mire of a slow-loading, pop-up ad laden slideshow (or video) with a headline that makes you think your life will end if you don’t read such revelations, to only come to the end of it thinking WTF, a toddler could have written a more interesting piece.
By the way, don’t get me started on the “you won’t believe this” headline that you think you must click on. Not only can you believe it, there’s no actual news there and you probably just downloaded a virus and gave a Russian hacker access to all your passwords, SSN, first street you lived on, your first pet’s name, your childhood BFF’s name, your blood type, and credit card numbers, and exact geo-location, as well as your home security system PIN.
Damn it, I want my articles written in paragraphs with actual sentences! And if I wanted to watch a video, I’d get on the G-D YouTube. I’m not opposed to 25 funny pictures, but since 99.99% of the population now looks at the ‘Net on a mobile device, can we at least put them all on one page? Can I get informed about the goings-on in the world without having to watch a 30 second ad followed by a 3 minute video? And just because I click on your stupid slideshow does not mean I want to sign up for you stupid slideshow newsletter via a pop-up ad that I can only get rid of on my phone by closing out the whole frick-fracking web page.
CHEESE AND RICE! Doesn’t anyone write actual articles anymore??!!
(Thank you. I feel better now. For a minute.)
The first being, this guy woke up in the morning and knew he was headed to court for his uncle’s re-sentencing on involuntary manslaughter and felonious assault. And he decided his best attire was a t-shirt offering his semen as hand lotion for those with dry skin, and all one needed to do was pump his junk to get some. Apparently, not one of his family members suggested a different choice in attire. Now I don’t know if this guy was allowed into the courtroom, but if he was, what a shame. All courts have dress codes, as they should. It saddens me that so many people no longer have respect for the court or themselves, for that matter. I’m by no means a prude, just ask any of my friends, but there is a time and a place for such a t-shirt and it’s called the Easy Rider Rodeo. I happen to own several questionable t-shirts myself (my fave being Johnny Cash flipping the bird), but I don’t wear them in places they would be deemed offensive. People are worried that gay marriage is going to result in the moral decay of our society?! Personally, I think we should be more worried about people like this.
Secondly, not one single person who worked for this paper noticed what this t-shirt said prior to publishing the photograph. Now the paper has apologized to its readers, and I know humans make mistakes. But c’mon, don’t we hold anyone accountable anymore? This photo had to slip through the hands of more than one person before it got to the point of being published. Doesn’t anyone proofread anymore? Doesn’t anyone have any investment in what they put their name on anymore? Are we in such a hurry to put some product out there for consumption that we don’t even care about the end result of that product? Whatever happened to taking pride in your work? Prices for products keep rising while the quality of those products are declining. A few years ago, our local paper ceased being “local” and is now published in a different city. I presume those folks aren’t as concerned about how Chillicothe looks to the world. If that paper were in local hands today from start to finish, then perhaps that photo would have never seen the light of day. Unfortunately, that’s just not the way small newspapers can operate in the digital age while maintaining profitability. Sad indeed.
Lastly, tons of people shared this on social media and from what I saw most of them were hee-hawing about it. I guess I could see where some might find it to be a funny shirt, but I’m just not one of them. Maybe I’m becoming a grumpy old lady, because it just made me sad. Our little community here has been under a great deal of negative scrutiny by the national media because we’ve had a rash of missing women, most of which have turned up dead. We have a serial killer on the loose, they say, in this little “run down” town in the rust belt. I was born and raised here and have lived here most of my life. I’ve also lived in several other places in the United States and I chose to come back here to little Chillicothe. It’s a winsome little city and it happens to be a very nice place to raise a family. Sure, there’s crime here and we definitely have our fair share of hullabaloo. I haven’t done any statistical analysis, but through what I see at my work, my educated guess is that most, if not all, of our crime is fueled by the illicit drug business. I suspect our “serial killer” is heroin, but again, that’s just my personal opinion. I’m not worried about turning up dead tomorrow by a creek. I would even venture out to take a trip to the Walmarts after midnight and not worry about my well-being. I saw one article recently rate Chillicothe as being more dangerous than Cincinnati. Balderdash! This isn’t the scary town the media is painting it to be.
I guess being a vehement supporter of free speech, I should support the ability of this man to wear his stupid t-shirt anywhere he wants. It just dismays me that he chose to wear it in a setting where you would expect one to use some decorum and that it had to be documented for posterity. I can only imagine what the deceased victim’s family thought when they saw that shirt.
But what do I know; maybe decorum is just an old-fashioned idea of times gone by, which is extremely disconcerting, in my book.
For the last three years, I’ve been working in some capacity with the legal field. Though I consider myself slightly above average in the informed adult area, there were still things I didn’t know when it came to the law and legal practices. I suspect the same can be said for any average American. So I decided to give you a little primer on the most commonly used terms in the legal field, so that if perhaps you find yourself in a little conundrum, you don’t make an ass of yourself. By the way, this is NOT legal advice, because I’m not an attorney. But I do highly suggest that you always consult one before you make any decision with legal ramifications.
I can’t tell you how many times folks have called a law office inquiring how much it costs for a “disillusionment.” I always wanted to tell those people that the disillusionment of their marriage was entirely free, but that the cost of ending a marriage depended on how much revenge you wanted to get. However, I figured that would result in my boss losing money, so, I went along with the charade. The correct terms for ending your marriage are dissolution (both parties agree to everything, and I mean EVERYTHING) or divorce (where nobody agrees on anything and you leave it up to a stranger, i.e. the Judge, to decide who gets what). So it goes like this, the disillusionment < dissolution + divorce, except when the disillusionment = revenge, then divorce > dissolution + disillusionment. I know they don’t cover that in high school math, but the Sesame Street reduction is simply that you’re fucked. Don’t get married.
Now, if you find yourself in some legal trouble that isn’t of the domestic variety, there are more terms you should familiarize yourself with. The first of which is the arraignment. This is your initial appearance at court following being served with a charge. It’s pronounced “ah-rain-ment” not arrangement. Also, that date on your ticket is NOT a suggestion to come to court at or around that time. It’s a show up or get a warrant issued for your arrest kinda thing. Personally, if it were me, I’d show up, request time to hire an attorney, and say as little as possible. Then I would go talk to an attorney. But that’s just me. You can do it however you like.
Sometimes people call and ask if someone has been “indickted” of a crime. I’m sure that person feels like they’re getting dicked, but the correct term is indictment, and it’s pronounced “in-dite-ed.” Again, this can be a not so pleasant experience and I’m sure it would be best to consult an attorney to explore your options after you’ve been indicted for something. Because, you know, you don’t wanna get dicked.
There are also times you may be asked to fill out an official form stating your knowledge of the facts about a particular case. A lot of people call this the affadata, but the correct term is affidavit (aff-a-dave-it). If you tell anyone you need to fill out an affadata, they’ll have no clue what the hell you’re talking about and they’ll probably send you to some IT room at another location. Typically, you don’t need affadatas at your arrangements, either. Or really any other time, unless you’re trying to evict someone. Again, it’s always best to consult a professional if you feel you need such paperwork.
Occasionally you may encounter a crazy person who won’t leave you alone. You may feel it’s necessary to get some legal protection from said crazy person. Contrary to popular belief, these are not called straining orders. The old school term is restraining order, but now we call them temporary protection orders or civil protection orders. This is one realm of the legal field that you can probably accomplish with the help of a victim’s advocate, which most courts have. So you won’t have to strain yourself too much to get one. But in reality, it’s just a piece of paper and last time I checked, bullets still go through those. Not saying you shouldn’t get one if you need it, just that a piece of paper doesn’t really do a whole lot when it comes to restraining folks.
And lastly, we have the ever-popular subpoena to discuss. These are issued when you need someone to come to court and testify at a hearing. Now, if you can get the person to come willingly, you don’t even need one of these. But if you think the person won’t come, you can have your witness served with a subpoena requiring them to come to court at a specific date and time. If they don’t show up, then they’ll get charged with a crime and have their own little arraignment to discuss why it is they blew the court off. The correct pronunciation of this term is “sah-pee-nah” not “sub-peenie or “pee-nah.” And for the love of God and all that’s good, the plural is not “sub-PENIS-uss.” It’s just not. And when you walk into court declaring you need such a thing, nobody is going to hear the sub part or the plural part. They are just going to hear you saying PENIS. Then everything you say after that will not be heard. And while we hear a lot of weird shit in court, the word penis always throws us for a loop.
So there you have the first installment of Legalese for Dummies. I’m sure there are more terms that I left out, mostly because the idea for this blog hit me whilst applying makeup this morning and all the notes I furiously scribbled before court this morning are still right where I left them… at court. But hey I figure this way, maybe this way we can have a Legalese for Dummies a la mode.
Until then. . . exercise your right to the 5th Amendment. . . unless you’re a Beastie Boy.