I had to go to the courthouse today. It wasn’t the one I usually go to (as I’ve graduated to the big leagues), but the local traffic court that I haven’t been to in about ten years. The last time I was there, it was on account of that first minor in possession infraction.
So ten years ago when I went in there, I thought everything was a farce. It wasn’t even a kangaroo court, because I would have taken a kangaroo more seriously than that judge, Dionysus. I wore my bondage belt and a sleeveless T-shirt even. I remember that I brought my pocket Moleskine (Editor’s note: those things are worthless) and drew real sloppy pen drawings of myself killing cops or something.
It was all a joke, Dionysus. All of it. In fact, I’m almost certain that I let out a giggle when I received my punishment.
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