Sunday, October 21, 2018
Jack
I'm sitting watching a movie, eating popcorn, drinking a beer, and our dogs go nuts barking.
I look out the window. Two feet away from my face, a bear is looking back at me. His head is as big as a pumpkin. His black, fuzzy butt is the size of a Lazy-boy recliner. He watches me jump out of my chair and retreat to the stairs. He lowers his head. Sniffs around our front porch. Decides to leave. Slowly. At his own pace.
Took pics this morning.
Ceci
Oh shit!!!
No way!
Ceci
Have you seen bears around there before? Or evidence of them?
Jack
Last month, I am working all around the house. Left the garage-basement door open. After dark, I am dinking around in the kitchen. Hear a crash right under me in the basement. Our dogs go nuts. Get a big flash light. The Bear is in our basement. He grabs an industrial garbage can. Drags it out into the driveway. Pops the top. Pulls out a bag. Drags it into the trees. Kills it.
Ceci
[Silence]
Jack
Does this mean you're not visiting?
Wednesday, October 25, 2018
Jack
We have our last "Get Out The Vote" meeting tonight.
Saw pics of your yard signs. Awesome!!
But more important than saving the country, my son left a pair of his work pants at the house and they fit! Now, they're my favorites. My ass looks great. Want a selfie?
But way more important than that, you are the finest chick in all the Kingdom! I was creeping around online. Found a video of one of your shows. You are a parfait of gorgeousness. I would estimate your total hotness at 4500° Kelvin (somewhere between the melting point of steel and the surface temperature of the sun). There's a point where you look right into the camera and with your eyes you say, "Go ahead. Check me out, bub. I'm the hottest thing you've ever seen!"
Ceci
Dang!!! Thanks for the ego boost.
Jack
No fake news, girl. I'm just reporting the facts. See for yourself.
Ceci
That show was a blast. I was really happy. Whitney Garden party.
Jack
Did you see the part where you seduce the camera?
Ceci
Funny, 😄 I'm just blind because I took off my glasses.
Jack
That's a plausible defense.
Sorry. Client just walked in. We're at full insanity speed. And I've had five trial assistants in the last 30 days....
Friday, October 26, 2018
Jack
Jack
Finally.
Friday.
The Update:
7:30am: The physical therapist angels try to unlock my neck. The muscles are clenched from when I was rear-ended by that semi, and 800 pounds per square inch of criminal justice pressure.
10:00am: We are in the mountains getting out every voter and every vote from every cave, log cabin, and miner's shaft. Also spending the weekend preparing a lightning fast lawsuit to file first thing Monday in Federal Court. We planned to challenge a false voter ID requirement. Then our peacemakers were able to settle the fight. They called me to power down the dogs of war.
Five trial assistants in 30 days:
The first assistant had been here for years and moved onto better things. I hired the second, but she had an application pending for a sweet job with the State. Two weeks after I hired her, the State hired her for more money and killer benefits. She resigned. I hired the third. She emailed me at midnight before her first day to say she didn't think she could handle working with criminals. The fourth was transgender, and the best candidate, so I hired her. The next day, she emailed a request for more money, overtime pay, and moving expenses. I declined. She withdrew. I hired number five, Siena. She appears to be a peach. In her first week, we've been to court, a crime scene, and two jails. She still hasn't quit.
Her first trip to jail was to see our client Pete. Pete was a six-month old baby when his schizophrenic mother set him on her kitchen counter. The dishwasher was open. Pete fell into the dish rack. One of the metal splines pierced his skull. He went into a comma. Encephalitis followed and he was paralyzed and partially blinded. Later, the limping, paralysis, and speech problems made him a target for bullies from his first day of school to his last.
When he was in the sixth grade, returning from a class trip, the brakes on his school bus failed. The driver lost control. At 90 mph, a bus full of children flew off a cliff into a river gorge. Pete's only boyhood friend was sitting next to him. His friend was thrown out a window and killed instantly. Rescue teams found Pete unconscious inside the wreckage. He and others were air-lifted to the hospital. He was treated for an open head injury. He regained consciousness, but with more handicaps and a growing fear of the world. In the years after, Pete was sexually assaulted three times by older boys, and his parents split and divorced.
Criminals often turn out to be less evil and more a reflection of what we have done to them.
He is now an adult. He is shy, pleasant, and good-hearted. Tests show he is attracted to adult females, but his sexuality is immature, unsure, and confused. Alone, he re-enacts his childhood. He cross-dresses. And he views child porn. He had a misdemeanor child porn charge many years ago. He successfully completed his sentence and treatment. He also completed a bachelor's and master's degree. But, as a registered sex offender, no one would hire him. His isolation and depression deepened. He withdrew. He returned to viewing child porn.
He was electronically surveilled by the FBI. His home was raided. He was arrested. He confessed his sins, completely.
I was hired. The judge denied bond. He was placed in jail. "Stone White" the reigning white prison gang began robbing and threatening to kill him. For his safety, he was moved to a remote jail. Alone again.
We pled guilty to child porn charges and are now preparing for sentencing. He faces 10-20 years of prison. Yesterday morning, my new trial assistant and I met the probation officer at the jail. The three of us pass through security into the interior of the jail. Through empty tunnels, we walk deep inside. We meet Pete in a cold, white, concrete and steel interview room. The probation officer is writing a report to the Judge detailing Pete's background and recommending a sentence to the Court. The Judge will rely heavily on the probation report.
. . . .
After the interview, we walk out of the jail into the bright sun. Grab some food. Drive back to the office. A client calls from Court wondering why I'm not there. The Judge's clerk calls from Court wondering why I'm not there. I completely forgot about Court.
I am an hour late, and the courthouse is an hour away. I run to the car. Race down the freeway. My left rear tire blows. Blows completely. Actually shreds. Pull over. Changed that fucking tire like NASCAR! Ten minutes tops. Back in the car. High speed freeway weaving on a donut. Two hours late for Court. Avoid contempt with an apology to the Judge. Hustle a deal with the DA, the client, and the Court.
Split.
Replace all four tires at Goodyear. Speed back to office. Join my second employee in the last 30 days, who is training Sienna, my fifth employee in the last 30 days.
Add to this, new cases for felony domestic violence involving a girlfriend beating her boyfriend with a golf club, a triple-life sentence incest trial, and a female bush pilot from the Yukon who stabbed her rapist at a rest stop on the Alaskan Highway.
So I'm looking forward to seeing you over Thanksgiving! More than turkey. More than stuffing. And more than pumpkin pie. Although, you are probably tied with gravy.
We'll stay at my sister's in Royal Oak where there will be continuous high quality cooking, eating, and drinking, as well as pious worship of the sacrament of the jigsaw puzzle.
[Vote⭐ here, and then GET OUT AND VOTE!!! ❤️ Ceciandjack]
Photos 1-6: Taken and owned by the authors, 2018.