I like to lie about my occupation whenever I'm meeting a new crew of lawyers, which happens almost everyday in DC, as this city boasts (regretfully?) the highest per capita rate of attorneys in the entire United States. And, no, I don't lie because I'm ashamed of my hobo employment tendencies. I lie because it's f*cking hilarious."So, are you guys all at the same firm?" I ask.
"No. I'm an associate at Douche & Tool and he's with Doucheson & Toolson. What about you?"
"Me? Oh, I'm with the Cochran Firm. I get settlements for people's made-up neck injuries."
At that point, the record skips (I carry a record player around with me to make sure this happens), while these lawyers stare in shock, awe, and for once, silence. Unfortunately, though, I have a terrible p-p-p-poker face, so I can't keep this façade for long. Then eventually one will accuse me of fibbing, at which point I'll fess up and tell them my real occupation: shadow President of the United States. After that, they all walk away from me for some reason.
However, since sustaining a neck injury, I've realized that whiplash is not made up. This sh*t f*cking hurts. So now, not only do I have a new respect for ambulance chasers like the Cochran Firm, but I even respect lawyers who think "The Hammer" is their middle name.
But seriously, neck injuries blow. Not only because I feel amounts of pain I didn't know existed, but also because the Vicodin supply the doctor prescribed that I was planning to save then sell to kids on school grounds is quickly dwindling. At this rate, I won't be able to get even one kid hooked on prescription narcotics because I'm too busy breaking Crack Commandment No. 4: Never get high on your own supply!
And so while I enjoy another lunch of hydrocodone, please to click on the following links because there's nothing more depressing than reading the rants of a newly addled opiate fiend...
- OMG! Kumar was robbed at gunpoint! Where's Harold?!
- Reason No. 5,493 not to where flip-flops in public: This asshole could be you.
- New York magazine just coined what may be my favorite word of 2010: hobot. Thank you for inspiring them, Politico reporter David Allen.
- The only thing proving to me that Eyjafjallajokull is real is this picture book of this hilarious-to-pronounce volcano.
- "Just imagine, if you will, having a beeper in your rectum or genital area." Looks like we all missed the most interesting hearing on the Hill...
4 comments:
And to think I get actual calls at work from nut saying that the government planted micro chips in their brain. I can now tell them that this is illegal, at least in Georgia or in their rectal genital area.
Look at it this way -- the Penn mugging was a sign from the gods that it is time for Kumar to stop working at the White House and go back to acting.
Which he is now doing.
patty--
LOL! Wow. People are strange. And can you record those phone calls? I would love to hear you explaining the illegality of this to people!
ben--
From the White Castle to the White House back to the White Castle. Yep. That sounds about right.
Believe me it would be quite funny.
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