Dear Diary Cow,
Get it? You just change a letter around and diary becomes Dairy?
I'm funny. I know.
The Deposition was not the fun I usually have. Not at all.
For one thing, that Judge was way too constipated in his attitude.
You expect a District Attorney to be a Dick--but, the two of them together?
Anywaaaaay...
I called the Morgue. I had this wonderful idea.
I was pretending I was a relative. Can I pay my respects and all that...
The person on the other end of the line was sort of amazed anybody would want to
view the body! Crushed and all, I mean.
Well-yeah! I DO! I've never seen a crushed body! How many chances does a person get in a lifetime? So many questions I want settled.
LIke what, you ask, old dairy cow?
I'll tell you.
Do all the body fluids exit every opening equally? Or, just the major openings? A heavy duty squish
should make for some fascinating possibilities!
But--they wouldn't allow it. Wouldn't listen to reason. The lady on the phone handed me off to her supervisor and he started pumping information right off.
I wanted to game him for the usual fun. Then, the though struck me; do they trace calls at the Morgue? I hung up.
Deer Diary,
You were a cow and now you're a deer!
I could be a comedian. No doubt. Not a doubt!
That drunken football player, as it turns out, is a humanitarian! Two Super Bowl rings worth of
fame and he wastes his time working with the under privileged. God forbid. Prolly a scam. Just struttin' his stuff.
Any way, the detectives--so I'm told--took him in for questioning. This is getting good.
The more outraged he is that--him--a HUMANITARIAN--is being drilled for squishing a bar rat, the
more guilty he'll sound! Life is beautiful in times like these. Don't you know it!
I thought I saw Raymond again today. Startled me. I mean, I KNOW it wasn't. Just sort of looked like--
Don't be Stupid--is what I said out loud when the surprise wore off. I just shrugged and went on about my business.
I'm running short of cash. That pool playing bar chick (you know, the FLAT ONE :) --well, her cash is gone now. I spent it all.
You wanna know what I spent it on? I may not tell you. I'm saying "may" not. After all,
you are some kind of crazy deer cow--why should I?
Okay. Okay.
I bought a cool looking knife at the Pawn Shop. It was very expensive. But, it looks soooo cool--I couldn't pass it up.
What's so cool about this pricey knife? Well, shut up and I'll tell you!
One thing I hate is a mouthy deer cow.
ha ha..just kidding.
The blade on this sucker is so sharp you can cut a tomato and then immediately cut through a soft drink can--like that commercial on TV. But--let me give you a strong bit of advice. Don't do what I did. Or should I say--what I shoulda did. I should have drank that Coke first.
Ha ha ha. I'm lying.
You know I'm not stupid. I told you before. I test out at genius level! Honest to God.
This knife folds into the handle. It is mother of pearl.
You squeeze it a certain way and---CLICK! Not a switchblade. A real knife. It snaps open.
So, technically it must be a...Snap Blade. Who knows? I'm a genius but not a knife expert.
Give me a break, will you?
Diary of Mine,
Yes, I mean YOU!
That stupid knife! It almost put me in jail for a long long spell.
I was standing at the bus stop. It was dark because the sun had been down for half an hour.
Duh.
I feel some creepy breathing on the back of my neck and I look out of the corner of my eye.
Like, you know? To SEE who is crowding me!
I'd swear it was Raymond! I'm not kidding.
I whipped my snap blade out like I've been practising. I meant to red line that sucker right where his stupid adam's apple made a left turn!
I whirl around and--if I'm lying I'm dying: it was a Policeman!
Dear Diary,
No funny business today. Sorry.
What a stupid reason to be fingerprinted and booked.
I did not technically or actually assault the Policeman with a deadly weapon.
I explained in plain English too. Very calm. Measured. Logical like.
"Officer," I said, "I thought you were a Creeper and I was defending myself."
I had a genius of a story ready, too. He wasn't buying what I was selling. Not even at
half the price.
Cuffs. Free ride. Black fingers and SLAM!
The bread on that sandwich was stale. The ice tea was watery. Some jail cook does not deserve to be a Trustee for that crap! I wouldn't trust him to feed my dog! Except, oops! Ha ha ha. I almost forgot. My dog, if he was still around, definitely wouldn't trust ME to feed him. Not after that last time!
The Judge I got listened to my intelligently recited explanation and dismissed all charges.
He's an ex-G.I. too. But, he doesn't have a shrapnel wound like I do. (Sometimes I think I really do:)
I left my knife at the police station. I had to. It was over 5 inches from tip to handle. Can you believe that makes my wonderful frog sticker ILLEGAL? What a waste of my time and money!
I had plans for that blade. I had some good plans too. Scathingly good.
Oh well. Back to the drawing board, as Walt Disney prolly said one time too many.....