(A Filthy Lie)
You may have noticed that – from time to time – John Hawkins of Right Wing News will re-post an entry from IMAO in its entirety.
Which is fine with us.
It’s not that we condone plagiarism (we’re NOT the New York Times), but it’s because of the sweet kickbacks he gives us. Usually scotch & hookers.
Except for Frank, who gets paid with sacks of monkey skulls, which he uses to decorate the altar of his Zatoichi shrine.
However, I recently got an e-mail from John, saying that he’d maxed out his tab at Leroy’s House O’ Ho’s, and asked if we’d take an interview with Glenn Reynolds as payment, instead. John’s a good guy, so I said “yes”. I’m just hoping Frank will be too busy working on his In My World book to notice the absence of simian craniums in the mail this week.
Anyway, here’s the interview:
JOHN: I see that you’ve recently taken a stand in favor of professorial nudity. Is that how you normally dress for work yourself?
GLENN: HEAVENS no! Exposing hairy man-boobs is ALWAYS a bad idea, which explains the pathetic sales of Michael Moore’s documentary “Bowling for Fat Guys in Speedos”. However, I will confess that – in the pursuit of pedagogical goals – I have been known to don a costume on occasion.
JOHN: So you’re saying that you dressed as a Catholic priest?
GLENN: I said “pedagogical“! Try using a dictionary for something besides propping up the short leg of the sofa.
JOHN: Actually, that’s what I use “An Army of Davids” for. Anyway, I want to hear more about these costumes of yours.
GLENN: Well, it all started when I was re-evaluating a data study from the Center for Applied Psychological Hermeneutics, which discovered that between 56% and 58% of over 16,000 freshman students at three state universities were…
JOHN: …probably as bored as I am. Can we get to the costumes?
GLENN: You have the attention span of a caffeinated ferret.
JOHN: Still bored, here.
GLENN: Fine. There was this costume:
that I wore for a class called “Civil Suit Alchemy – Turning Pain Into Gold”. Students were told to find grounds to sue Superman.
JOHN: Impossible! He’s the ultimate Boy Scout! He won’t even fly across the street against a red light!
GLENN: True, but with a good expert witness, you can convince a jury that his X-ray vision gave your client cancer.
JOHN: You have no conscience.
GLENN: Lawyer.
JOHN: Touché. So what else have you worn?
GLENN: Same class, next day:
JOHN: So you want to sue elves for making defective Christmas toys?
GLENN: Ya know, a lot of first-year law students make that same mistake. But when you sue, you should always go for the target with the deepest pockets. Thus the title of the lecture: “When In Doubt, Sue Santa”.
JOHN: How do you sleep at night?
GLENN: On a mattress stuffed with contingency fees.
JOHN: Any other costumes?
GLENN: Well, I often wear this one when I discuss Marbury v. Madison during my lecture on the Federal separation of powers:
JOHN: What do penguins have to do with…
GLENN: WHOOPS! How’d THAT one get in there!… Hey! Look at the time. I gotta go!
JOHN: Well, thanks for taking the time to share the cobwebby inner darkness of your soul with us, Glenn.
Join me next week when the Travelocity gnome explains why he’d rather fly a lawn chair into a set of stadium lights than ride with a Kennedy.
I think I saw Glenn in March Of The Penguins, he was the penguin holding the puppy milkshake!
“March Of The Penguins”
Hmmm–
So THAT’S what happens to lawyers in the next life. So they do get punished after all.
Nothing to comment on. Funny as hell as always, and unique as usual.
A follow up on the “March Of The Penguins” lawyers reincarnated idea. Hope I don’t get sued.
Why do I think lawyers become King Penguins in the next life? I’m sure most sane people don’t see how fitting this punishment would be. Look at the life of an Emperor Penguin. Unlike most reasonable birds you don’t go to more temperate climates to lay your precious nest egg. Instead you follow some ancient stupid ritual to get up on a freezing ice shelf, and waddle your way for miles to a now landlocked beach in the middle of cold hell to hold your precious nest egg wedged between your knees and the crack of your ass. All the while you’re sitting for months on end on the worlds largest, and coldest, block of ice. You sit there protecting the precious nest egg in your cold, emaciated, near death state, huddled their with all the other lawyers …umm I mean penguins. Your mate, you never see anymore, finally shows up. Does she have something for you? NO! She going to regurgitate for that precious little hairball you have stuck up your ass. Such single-minded dedication!
You haul yourself starving and half dead through mile after mile of cold desolation, perhaps sullied by the fact that for the first time in months you don’t have something stuck up your butt. You hope you can get to the sea’s edge before your stomach digests itself. If you make it, you quickly gorge yourself in a fishing frenzy befitting a type A maniac. Than back up on the freezing ice shelf for that long cold trek to go give the life giving puke, on that fuzzy little butt plug you so adore. Oh, and you have to find the stupid thing first. Everybody looks alike, surely no laymen could read the minutia that distinguishes one from another. But you’re a lawyer –oops I meant penguin. You’ll pick you way through the suburbs to the correct nest, and disgorge yourself. Than you proceed to sit dutifully on that hairball and that gargantuan block of ice.
After all the prerequisite mindless repetitions, across the frozen wasteland, and regurgitating more than a frat boy on pledge night, that lively squawking hairball is no longer small enough to fit up the crack of your ass. It’s time for a family outing. Mile after mile you push, shove and squawk at that fat little chick across the frozen wasteland. Than, it’s that awkward first plunge into the icy sea where little butt plug Jr. is promptly eaten by large predator. Such is life on the food chain.
You can make what you want out of that, but I think it’s a splendid metaphor for the life of a lawyer. So you see lawyers do receive justice in the next life, for being colossal pains in the rear.
And, They can’t even appreciate the stunning scenery!
Nuts! I never do get all the grammar errors. Even when I try.
It never fails that I see them right after I post.
Why does Superman wear underwear on the outside?
Chris, Superman wears underwear on the outside so that his dilly-doo doesn’t flop around while he is flying.
A what of what’s? Out pimping for GR again? Will it never cease?