My standard opening spiel when I speak to criminal defendants usually goes something like this: My name is Anonadada and I�m with the county attorney�s office. I�m the prosecutor; I represent the State in this matter. I don�t represent you. I�m not your attorney. I can�t give you advice. You have the right to an attorney, if you want one. You also have the right to maintain your silence. That means you don�t have to speak to me if you don�t want to. Blah. Blah. Blah.

Despite this standard admonition, I�m going to dispense a bit of free and unsolicited legal advice here.

To the gentleman person crazy-eyed, greasy-haired, fast-talkin�, spittle-flying tweaker, who is charged with DUI-Drugs, it is probably wise not to come to the courthouse to meet with the prosecutor while your so high that you�re bouncing off the walls.

To the asshole with an acute case of �small man�s syndrome,� telling the prosecutor that you beat your wife black and blue with a flashlight because she deserved it does not help your case at all. Be a man for one fucking minute and take responsibility for your actions.

To the twenty-two year old wanna-be who insists on �dating� a 17 year old and who is dumb enough to get caught buying her alcohol, I�ve got two words for you: jail bait.

To dog-owners everywhere, do me a favor and keep your pets in your fenced yards. If I never see another �dog at large� citation I will be a very happy prosecutor.

To the 50ish �mom� who got busted driving after having a few beers and who opened the glove box to retrieve your registration but forgot that you had stashed your marijuana pipe there, your tears are getting you nowhere. Pull yourself together, dammit.

To the old curmudgeon who was found guilty of disorderly conduct and criminal damage, it doesn�t serve you well to get angry at the judge when he sentences you to attend anger management counseling.

This week has been exhausting. I�ve been in court every other day, which barely gives me enough time in between court dates to catch my breath, much less get any work done. And it looks as if my schedule in going to remain equally harrowing at least until the first of the year.

Other than having a lot to do and not enough time to do it in, I�m still having a hell of a good time doing what I�m doing.

I�m growing increasingly annoyed with my landlady. First, I�m in the downstairs apartment and she lives upstairs. She has wooden floors. Which means that it sounds as if she�s herding cows through her kitchen whenever she�s walking around up there. Second, the entrance to my apartment are two french doors. My landlady is wanting to hang an insulated type curtain over the doors in order to eliminate the need to pump more heat down here. This wouldn�t be a problem except for the fact that the french doors are right next to the stove. Is it just me, or does it seem highly unsafe to hang a curtain over the only exit when that same curtain is going to hang a mere two inches from the stove? As I�m not particularly keen to a fiery death, I�m going to explain to her that if she insists on putting them up, I will be thinking about moving out.

Listening To: t.v.
Reading: Lord John and the Private Matter by Diana Gabaldon
Feeling: Tired