So tomorrow is my “trial.” Yes, I know, y’all’ve heard that before -- regarding the same stinkin’ case, no less.
My family, friends, and attorney believe I’m going to be found innocent of the allegation since nothing I’ve done actually meets the criteria of the charge. They apparently still have faith in the system and are optimistically overlooking who my judge is, or, more aptly, what he was.
I am not so naïve. My honest expectation of this farce is that after the several anserine ATFers, Detectives, and Investigator, all give their synthetic spiels on how they feel I am homicidal evil epitomized, then I testify before a suddenly predominantly deaf audience that ridiculing the ridiculous is perfectly legal, the outcome will be a guilty verdict. Upon which I shall immediately appeal.
Considering there are no unbearable bail bond impositions on me this time around -- not contacting a guy I was already not contacting is pretty easy to do -- I intend to fight this one all the way up the judicial ladder. I certainly don’t mind countless Law Enforcement members being endlessly dragged into numerous courts in front of judge after judge after judge over a misdemeanor. Hell, I might even get to see every suit and tie each of the officers own by the time this is completely over. Woohoo! ‘Cause nothin’ says “sexy” quite like a policeman in dress clothes! ‘Cept maybe for an Armani-scented Bouncer in the Star City of the South. And that should clue ya in on what I’ve been doin’ lately.
À Bientôt!