Jaw and Order: The Man With the X-Ray Thighs

Continued From: "I, the Jury," "Justice (Some Assembly Required)," and "Contempt of Court"

Entering the courthouse is the high point of my jury service groove.

The security team insists all personal belongings be placed into a tray for a ride through the x-ray conveyance. The idea is to discover and remove rogue weapons from the environment, but I suspect the snoop in the chair surveils for rare 2005-D speared bison reverse new design Jefferson nickels.

Before I'll go there, I tested his honesty by tossing in a $35,000 1969-S Lincoln cent with a doubled die obverse.

Next, human beings, much like myself, are required to stroll through a metal detector while a guard eyeballs the fashion show, waving an electrical sensor baton in a flourish up and down and around the incoming bodies. My crotch has yet to make it beep, but I think I can. I think I can. I think I can.

Each time I walk through this portal I'm brimming with delight. Tuesday was no exception.

"You make me feel ... you make me feel like a natural villain," I crooned to the officer.

He blinked bewilderment. I saw the nervous tic erupt into a wave and roll across copper cheek flesh. His regulation 1971-era Sinister Police Dude Moustache was not pleased.

"Riddle me this," I said, pointing to the machinery. "Can that thing tell if the judge wears culottes?"

"Clam diggers. Move along."

Another case solved. I reclaimed my personal items from the receptacle: keys, phone, billfold, penny, lip Velcro, and regulation 1971-era Sinister Police Dude Moustache.


Contempt of Court

Continued From: "I, the Jury" and "Justice (Some Assembly Required)"

I ran from the parking lot to the courthouse to be punctual for the 9 a.m. mandate imposed upon jurors. We had been summoned at this earlier hour to perform important criminal justice.

I haven't run much since my unrepentant terrorist days mooning Moon Pie munchers.

It's also difficult for me to sprint on only three hours sleep. Jury duty does not commingle easily with my up-all-night pattern and rhythms. Nevertheless, my huffs and puffs and yawns were pitch perfect and vigorous enough to clear a path through the pigeons, swindlers, and spouse throttlers congregated outside.

I bounded up the staircase two steps and three wheezes at a time, plopping into my designated chair exactly on the stroke of nine -- and, admirably, not the stroke of Mike.

The Jury Assembly Room was quiet with 49 eager-to-please participants all ready to go thumbsies -- up or down. Bring it on!

One problem. Not one of the court officials were kindly enough to enter the arena to inform us of the agenda. We sat idle, wasting away, growing cheesed by the minute and the eventual hour-plus.

The judge snubbed us. The county clerk snubbed us. All court-related public servants snubbed us. It was inexcusable inconsideration.

At 10:40, the judge finally appeared before the jurors. He was the first government representative to address the group. He's a jovial sort, extra annoying with the folksy, calculated Matlock shtick, while strutting about in that ridiculous gown. I sized him up with equal parts disdain and hope, outlining a promising TV series I'll call "Skirt Court" or "Pretty in Finks."

The judge looked at his watch, grinned impishly, and pronounced, "Nine o'clock."

Oh, he was so clever.

See what he did there? He said "nine" and it was 10:41! Mercy me. I swami. Oh, har.

I stared daggers at him, as did many of my counterparts. There was no apology forthcoming, but the judge did notice we were not pleased with being ignored, so he rewarded us with yet another of the apparently never-ceasing, mind-numbing anecdotes about his coot father-in-law on a long car trip through Colorado years ago.

There was a felt hat and coveralls involved, so that was nice.

Then, unexpectedly, the judge sent everybody home until tomorrow, congratulating us on our morning's exemplary work.


If there's another uncommunicative session, that guy's going to the gallows. We've reached a verdict.


Justice (Some Assembly Required)

Continued From: "I, the Jury"

I was six minutes late arriving for jury duty. Nobody yelled at me and the waterboarding over my "alleged" Arby's drive-thru biscuit caper delay was surprisingly convivial -- although the scrambled egg got soggy and was sent off to the Bunko Lab for carbon dating.

The courthouse agenda was uneventful, if you consider a two-hour-plus lunch break normal.

I drove to Quiznos just so I could say "Flatbread Sammie" to a sammich-erecting stranger toting guacamole in a squeeze pouch.

"Would you like chips and a cookie with that?"


I practice in my spare time.

When the jury returned to business for the afternoon, we were soon sent home for the day. I was hoping to make it in time for my five-hour supper.

So, other than lunch, my first day of jury duty was a bust, waiting and waiting and waiting to wait some more.


Okay, I think I wrote that in the correct sequence.

Otherwise, I spent the morning and most of tea time wondering if the judge was wearing pantaloons under his robe.

The rest of the jury is hung on culottes.

I would have to be the lone hold out.

Furrowed brow and glistened lip reconvene at 9 a.m.

I may even wear a necktie so I can loosen it.


I, the Jury

Mr. Civics here. I'm off to jury duty today. I'll be keeping America safe, justice for all, and circling back around for the complimentary frisks.

Back soon. Hope it's O.J.! Enjoy the timely instructional video.

"Bananas" (1971) via YouTube


Jerry Goes to the Ball

Tonight, after the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences' egregious slight of at least 40 years, the Oscars present Jerry Lewis with the Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award.

Attaboy, Jerry.

"Cinderfella" (1960) via YouTube



Follow Mike on Twitter

My Recent Confessions and Observations on Twitter, Where Everything Must Be Said in 140 Characters or Less

"FRIDAY THE 13th Producer Already Talking Sequel." No! Who would have thunk it? Another FRIDAY THE 13th movie! It simply never happens.

@michael_bay asks: "What's the hardest thing about launching a flaming killer whale over an Airbus A380?" Easy. Aiming the Blubberpult.

The Situation Room we built onto our house was money well spent. So far, it's been mostly crises involving extra Fancy Feast and fur balls.

[Reply to:] @Lileks - Oh, great. Now you've put the theme to VERTIGO into my head. Thanks. The day's shot. Must start stalking.

[Reply to:] @Lileks - Oddly enough, I do often hum the theme to NORTH BY NORTHWEST -- and PSYCHO. Got me onto the welcoming committee down at the coven.

Hate to be this way, but I just told my wife the bad news. I'm leaving her for my electric blanket. I am very much in love -- and hott!

@quotations posted this from Rita Rudner: "I was a vegetarian until I started leaning toward the sunlight."

Me? I've been a vegetarian for 20 years. I do wear more greens, spend quality time with baby broccoli, and vacation on the Thousand Islands.

I get no privacy. A bellhop just strolled through my house, yelling, "PajamaGram for Mongo! ... PajamaGram for Mongo!..."

Mongo like PajamaGram.

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Mulling My Molars

Smile Though Your Wallet Is Aching
8:23 a.m. -- I'm going to a dental appointment today. I have fun. Should I leave the floss dangling?

8:24 a.m. -- I opt for drawing black spots on my teeth with a Sharpie pen.

10:12 a.m. -- I may sue my dentist. He implies I have a big mouth. It's the "MEN AT WORK" sign next to my chair.

10:13 a.m. -- My dentist likes to shout down my mouth for the echoes.

11:11 a.m. -- The dentist adjusts my bite. I can tell. I find myself a lot kinder to politicians.

$2800 later -- I have two new crowns, one gold and one porcelain, side by side. I hum "Blingy and ivory chew together in perfect harmony..."

11:20 a.m. -- I bid adieu and a drool to the doctor, saying, "Thanks for not letting me be a toothless goon."

I am a fully-teethed goon.

11:37 a.m. -- Post-dentist letdown. I always feel special when I'm touched by rubber gloves.

12:02 p.m. -- An epiphany:

I've had only two dentists in my life, father and son. I'm celebrating my 50th anniversary with the same spit sink!

I'm sentimental that way.

I'm a chick flick.


Dave the Wonder Dog Is My Soul Mate

Dave and I have the same taste in music.

I concur. I concur. I concur.

Let's eat cake.

via YouTube


'Kittens Inspired by Kittens'

Morty at the Movies with Morty the CatI think Morty's looking to replace me. Granted, it might only be my paranoia -- or the binge-eating of coffee grounds. (Donna conditioned me to snack on all things crunchy.)

Morty's been watching this video over and over. I suspect he's smitten with the little girl's enthusiasm for kitties. I used to be exactly like her, although the natural maturity that came with age 47 was a factor. I squeal in more of a stage whisper nowanights in deference to the neighbors and coyotes angling for slumber.

Enjoy the movie and crank up the sound, because I'll be munching another fistful of roasted with a pack of Splenda and a pinch of Cremora....

"Kittens Inspired by Kittens" via YouTube


That's Not Right!

Maury Povich sent me a valentine.

I've never even met the guy!

He's married!

I'm married!

I can tell you one thing. He'd better not call me "Connie."

I am very disturbed.


Top 13 Tokens of Affection to Never Give Your Valentine

Don't Ask Me How I Know, but Trust Me on These
  • A jawbreaker the size and scales of Godzilla's gallstone.
  • A clutch purse full of Velcro colons.
  • An old jar of hot pickled bad boys breath. (Evade the Motley Crüe.)
  • A phony moustache to disguise the real moustache.
  • Ankle-waxed fur boots.
  • A paddle with the shrunken head of Katie Couric attached to a rubber band.
  • A lint trap with a secret trapdoor for freedom fighter fuzz.
  • Clip-on wart hair extensions.
  • A blanket with sleeves and a mysterious stain at the wrist in the likeness of Wilford Brimley's left jowl.
  • Any signature fragrance from the fine family of Barney Frank's handkerchiefs.
  • A Slinky made from a coiled Andy Rooney eyebrow pluck.
  • Alphabet soup spelling out exactly how the steam is clearing the nostrils.
  • A Muppet eyeball for her navel socket.



Follow Mike on Twitter

My Recent Confessions and Observations on Twitter, Where Everything Must Be Said in 140 Characters or Less

My wife & I made the Most Romantic Couples List! We came in behind Rihanna & Chris & just before McGruff the Crime Dog & his fleabite hives.

Just sent away for an autographed donut from Paul Blart: Mall Cop. I'd also like to do wheelies in his Security golf cart to the Tubby Gap.

I've been summoned to jury duty. Time to get out the sequined Lone Ranger mask, flannel Dora the Explorer tuxedo, and conservative snorkel.

News Item: "Kanye West wants to do bisexual porn." Gee, I guess all of us who have been boycotting him will now have to girlcot him, too.

I want one of those new 3-D Webcams, so you can see me as my fully-captured one-dimensional self.

News Item: "Deputies Deliver, Use Turkey Baster To Save Newborn" - Must've scared the stuffing out of Mom.

I go for my exciting annual physical and urine sample this morning. Anyone wanna meet for lunch? Sorry, I'll be totally out of urine.

My medical physical went swell without any actual swelling, which is always nice. There were no paparazzi, which means my career's sickly.

The best part of my physical was hearing the 2 most beautiful words in the English language: "No nodules." -- I take that back: "No charge."

I usually schedule my medical physical closer to Christmas, so, when I leave a urine sample, it's much more festive.

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What the Heck Was I Thinking?

Actual Messages I Wrote, Forgot, Then Found While Cleaning Out My Email Folders


Sorry, I am out of the office, dangling from a clock face twenty stories up on the side of a building. I will respond to your email when I return.


I can arrive around noon, after my big physical. I'll probably have put my clothes back on by then.


Have you met my pet pocket lint, Scruffy?


100 Things About Me #166

Fingering Government
On one hand, politics bore me. On the other hand, they are exasperating. On the other hand, I need to know about our future. On the other hand, I never seem to have enough gloves.

100 Things: #1 | Previous | Next


Jerry Lewis Kids His Telethon

via YouTube

Yesterday's video, "Jerryoke: Ladies Only," and this one feature Jeff Hoover. I didn't know about Jeff until recently, but what a find, courtesy of Mark Evanier's blog. Jeff puts me away nicely disheveled with his Jerry, equally as bombastic and entertaining as Martin Short's impersonation.

What's even more surprising is both of these spots were broadcast on the WGN News!

Chicago is bats.



Actual Letters to Mike Durrett
I never know what to expect from my fellow classic showbiz loon and friend, the super hip Astroray, man of few words and many gems. He sent along this 1966 advertisement, accompanied by only a half dozen syllables in the Subject line:

Really? A million laughs?

Yeah, I wanna tell ya, easily a million laughs. It was sumpum. WILD. Grrr-RRROWLL!

I've always been thrilled to know that, during the 1950s and '60s, Bob Hope and Jerry Lewis worked at DC Comics, alongside Batman, Robin, Superman, Wonder Woman, and some of the world's most celebrated fetishists. I've often imagined the lunches in the commissary.

The introduction of the wacky Universal monsters knock-offs, a mere EIGHTEEN years after "Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein" and at the tail-end of "The Munsters" run, scored with the cats, adding at least 750,000 timely chortles. GO-GO-GO!

And Bob in a Beatles wig! That's comedy gold -- or, as it appears, comedy bleach!

Close-ups via The Comic Book Database



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My Recent Confessions and Observations on Twitter, Where Everything Must Be Said in 140 Characters or Less

It was nine degrees here last night. I haven't seen anything that low since Mini Me's sex tape.

It is truly cold. For the first time ever, I'm wearing three pairs of socks, all of them on my left foot. My right's an endurance artist.

News Headline: "Gettin' Ready for Sundance with Brittany Snow" -- Oh, great, who's gonna play Butch? Lindsay Lohan?

My brother sent me details on a Home Colonoscopy Kit. (We're very much like The Waltons.) It has "UBS connection!" Shouldn't that be "IBS?"

Super Bowl? Ho hum. I've never seen a one. This year, me & the cat will be watching water go down the sink. It's quite thrilling, actually..

News Item: Italy "Mafia boss flees into sewer." He got an offer of refuse he couldn't refuse.

New TVs to get Web, 3-D. Pal Stan sez: "I think I'll hold off until they produce one with an electrical engineer enclosed to run it for me."

Jackie "Noriyuki" Chan to be in THE KARATE KID remake. It's been decades since I've been able to shun a KARATE KID flick. Happy times ahead!

@levendis sez: "Everything I know about zombies I learned from Michael Jackson's Thriller." Oh, me, too, and Walmart shoppers.

Some guy on the radio keeps asking if I'm urinating more. He's got me flustered. I don't know whether to see a doctor or be the 12th caller.

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Snap Judgement

Why in the world do stores put all of these photographs on sale? I'll be minding my business, shopping for cashew trail mix or pup tents or a festive assortment of holiday sundries for children of all ages from three to 99 (27, 51, 86 not available in CT, SD, and selected Pep Boys) and all of a sudden I'm overcome by a pictorial gallery.

I do not need a picture of these people. They are strangers. I don't know a one of them. The companions I'm with don't know 'em. The clerks and floor managers don't know 'em. I ask!

No retailer has ever put my picture on a shelf. At least, I didn't see it if they did. I'd buy a photo of me. I don't really need any, but if they'd do that, I'd buy one. I'll make the pledge.

Otherwise, I'm moving on. We own a camera for crying out loud. And it takes color...


Super-Duper Bowl Ads

Before I share the Super Bowl TV commercials I enjoyed most, I have a probing question which has always puzzled me.

In the context of the adjective "super-duper," what exactly is a duper?

Oh, sure, there is wondrous duper involved, heightened duper even. I would simply like to know what duper is. Everyday, common duper.

That would be super.

More: Funny Super Bowl TV Commercials 2009 via About.com Web Humor


Lower Prices Every Day!

Gee, I like the Quiznos, but if they promise "lower prices every day," as you can see they are, eventually -- considering the way math works -- everything in the restaurants will become absolutely FREE!

No charge!

That is so great. I'll be back then. Supersize the entire sandwich menu (on wheat, extra tomatoes, triple cheese, toasty), gimme barbecue chips AND barbecue chips AND barbecue chips, and, oh, hell, barbecue chips, and I will have nine cookies and a Diet Dew (no ice)!

Plus, a free quart of deli tuna in a kitty bag to go.

Thanks, Quiznos! Can't wait to eat free "every day!"

See ya every evening for the free dinners, too, and I'll need a couple of cases of napkins for the house.
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