I hate you Jeb. But please, go ahead and vote.

Many of you have weighed in on how American voters are typically uninformed. The implication is that if you’re a moron, you’re less entitled to exercise your right to participate in the democratic process. I agree. I have nothing but disdain for semi-literate 18-year olds who vote without any reasoned basis (excluding those semi-literate 18-year olds who have been shipped off to Iraq to be killed or maimed, of course). Lest you think my opinion is entirely the product of my contemptuous personality, consider this—I take the time to read the newspaper, I spent a year of law school taking civics for lawyers, i.e., constitutional law, and I certainly pay a butt-load more than you do in personal income taxes. I’m entitled. But let’s be honest. My stature as an “informed” citizen is really beside the point. It’s not self-governance and it’s not democracy unless everyone has the right to vote. And there’s no sense in bemoaning the poor decision-making of everyone else (if that’s indeed what it is—I often confuse “stupid” people with people that simply don’t agree with me). Our vote can’t be qualified in any way—it used to be, for rather transparent reasons: you have to be literate (i.e., not black); you have to be a man (i.e., not a woman); you have to be a land-owner (i.e., not poor). These limitations were thankfully done away with because the right to vote is an inalienable, fundamental right and not because blacks, women, or the poor were all of a sudden deemed capable of making “intelligent” decisions. So who the fuck cares if Jeb, the high-school drop-out is voting for Bush because Bush is full of Christ-love. His reasons are every bit as valid as mine because America isn’t just my country, it’s Jeb’s country too.

Please speak plainly.

One of my biggest pet peeves are people that refuse to speak or write directly and efficiently. Context matters, of course, and I understand that if you’re trying to be persuasive, you may have good reason to doll your stuff up a bit. But I really hate it when I’m having a conversation with someone and they’re bludgeoning me to death with four different versions—all wordy—of the same damn idea. Listen. I get it. Don’t waste my time. If you like the sound of your voice that much, you really don’t need me do you? For instance, I called a client today intending to get three discrete pieces of information. When did your company first transact with the defendant? What dates were your invoices unpaid? Do you have tangible copies of those unpaid invoices? Five minute conversation, tops. My contact at the client company managed to turn the phone call into a twenty-five minute exercise in tedium. For whatever reason, this guy decided to regale me with his thoughts on: accounting software, the saga of the Dubuque records-keeping system, roll-over payments and when/how/why they should or should not be recorded as accounts receivable, and lastly, the excellent job that my firm was doing on behalf of the client. That’s great, buddy. But I really . . . don’t . . . care. I just want to get off the phone and eat my sandwich. The irony is that if this man knew that he was talking to a small, childish-looking Chinese man who can’t grow a beard, I don’t think he would have wasted so much time licking my balls.

Davenport, Iowa.

Funny. A new client is a dairy that's located in--surprise, surprise--Davenport, Iowa. If I end up going out there for discovery, perhaps I will solicit some opposing viewpoints. For all I know, Bush probably is ordained by God.

Jesus walks with Bush.

From the Washington Post:

"In a breakfast gathering in Davenport, Iowa, Cheney spoke to about 60 local Republicans. He took four questions from the audience that turned out to be testimonials praising the work of Bush. "Next to Jesus Christ, he probably took the greatest load on his shoulder of any individual," one attendee said. "

This is a magnificent country that we live in. Where people, from all walks of life, can agree to disagree. Who wants to come w/on my vacation to Davenport?

I quit, motherfucker!

One of the best things about quitting your job is getting paid for all of the vacation time that you never bothered to use. What would you rather have--fun times with friends and family, or a decent tv? This is, of course, all beside the point because I’m too fucking cheap to spend that much money on a television.