So, a bitch had jury duty today. Obviously, the government hates me, because I couldn't even access my blog from the courthouse. I'M BANNED! You mean to tell me that they allowed girls in with Kate Spade handbags, but I was denied access to my blog? That's some fucked up shit Son! Anyways, I arrived at 333 Constitution Ave. just a tad late. I was due at 8:45 a.m, but I didn't arrive until 9:25--I had to go back home to grab a pashmina. It was cold in the courtroom. Once I went through security (body cavity checks and all), I was directed where to go. "Sixth floor juror waiting room sir!", said a tall dark and handsome security officer. I was smiling at him with my eyes, but I had on shades. Once upstairs the lady who took my papers said that I looked like Prince, and told me to have a seat in the waiting area? After my ass sat there for a good hour, I was already feigning to go. I stuffed myself with junk from the vending machines, and even had text message sex. What to do now?
After I spritzed on some 'Love in Black', and changed my sunglasses (I brought them because they are called "EVIDENCE"), they called my number to enter the courtroom. Still in my sunglasses, I sat for what seemed like an eternity while they asked questions to select the jury. I looked as disinterested as I could. I yawned like 80 times and had more text sex. Before I knew it, they called my number to be released. IU'm not off the hook yet, I still have to call back tomorrow to see if I have to report tomorrow! Fuck D.C.! Once out of the courtroom I was starving with a big S! I had a taste for greasy wings and an even greasier margarita. While walking to Hooters, who do I see?
It's Shaq Diesel baby! This mother fucker is big as hell. He was dining at Clyde's with his family. As you can see, a reporter was trying to get an impromptu interview with him, but a D.C. "nigger" (excuse the use of the "n" word here, but it is being used appropriately) continuously yells, "Eh Shq, show DC some love!". Shaq didn't answer, because he WAS doing an interview. The nigger became outraged and began to shout "Fuck you Shaq!" (side eye). After I took my pics and painted my face white, I headed into Hooters...
I'm still here, and my stomach hurts now after eating that gross food. Margarita #3 may help soothe my achin' belly though?
Notice there's no weekend wrap-up, because it would look like this...
...just blank, cause I didn't do shit!
Happy Monday, and Fuck you Shaq to you too!