UPDATED TO INCLUDE SUNDAY FOOTBALL PICKS AT THE BOTTOM:
Because the SAO does not believe their attorneys (outside of Division Chiefs and Major Crimes) are mature and responsible enough to manage internet access at work, which is strangely similar to communist China and North Korea believing their citizens are not able to have unrestricted access to the web, we have waited to post this memo until the weekend, when the minions can peruse the pages of this blog.
MEMO TO THE COUNTY COURT PROSECUTORS
FROM: YOUR PAL RUMPOLE
Put down your SAO manual (pages 2-220: “I’ll have to ask my supervisor…I cannot do that without my supervisor’s approval….hey judge-only a supervisor can do that….bathroom break? I’ll check with a supervisor”) and read the following, because you young lawyers are really starting to get on our nerves.
Are we upset that you have been trained to be intransigent blocks of “no…no…no way..and no” ? No.
Is your limited ability to see the big picture getting on our nerves? Nope- we were once young and full of …umm…bright ideas to change the world.
What is really bothering us is the way you walk to court.
Every morning you troupe out of your confines on 14th street in little cabals of 3 or 4 and, pulling your boxes full of disorderly conducts, selling flowers without a license and possession of undersize Snook (“Put your hands in the air and step away from the Snook”) you traipse through some easement appurtenant, cross the street, and walk through the attorneys' parking lot on your way to floors 1,2,4,5, or 6.
Now we realize that the collection of Porches, Benzes, gleaming Corvettes, or tricked out Escalades may make your eyes glaze over as you struggle by on your once a month miniscule salary, but for those of us trying to get to Judge Murphy’s 8:30 soundings or Judge Pinero’s 8:00 am (!!) calendar,
YOU ARE IN OUR WAY.
THAT CAR BEHIND YOU WITH THE ANGRY ATTORNEY GLARING AT YOU AND MUTTERING THAT YOU DO NOT HAVE ENOUGH SENSE TO GET OUT OF THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD IS BEING DRIVEN BY US, OR ONE OF OUR COHORTS.
Hyped up on Starbucks, the adrenaline of your first court appearances (“the state is providing discovery”) flowing through your as yet unclogged arteries (just wait) you don’t seem to notice that there is a line of cars crawling behind you because your crew is spread out three or four across blocking the entire lane of traffic in the parking lot.
Granted some of the more lascivious members of the defense bar may be enjoying the view and plotting ways to lure you into conspiring combing and confederating in flagrante delicto, but for those of us married or just too old to care anymore, please strut your aerobically toned bodies somewhere else.
We just want to park our rusted heap and schlump into court.
Now, back to your SAO manuals: ("I’ll have to check with a supervisor before I can get out of the middle of the road your honor, its our policy.")
See You In Court, and hopefully safely off to the side of the road in the parking lot.
PS. Sometimes we do sneak a peek.
Sunday is Funday.
The Chargers travel to Buffalo as LD meets WM (willis mcghee). Take the under 43 as the bad weather holds down scoring.
The cowboys venture into Jersey to play the Gints. Still don’t think those boys are fer real. Take the Giants, give three, and have some xtra xmas money by Sunday night.
Jax at Fins-: Fins -1 and under 38.
Jets at Green Bay under 42 all the way.
Seattle at Denver under 43 as the Jay Cutler era arrives in Mile High, via an extended running game.