I wish I could be on the Micheal Jackson jury. They get to see all the great cult celebrities. Today they get Mark Geragos. I wish they could take questions from the galery. Hell if I was the prosecutor I'd go get Bethie and make her do a guest cross-examination. (This is why I'm not cut out to be a prosecutor...)
Anyway, its a beautiful Friday afternoon. That used to fill me with a quiet joy. Now I just fear the intruding keggers, and the 3 hours of dirt tearing before.
Some days I really dream of just selling it all and moving to Amsterdam. If I did things right I could live somewhere small, with all my cats, and spend my remaining days before the apocalypse tending cats and frequenting the local cafes.
What a pretty dream.
