* Employers have called me, “Yo Filing”, because whenever they ask me what I’m doing, I look up from Facebook and say, “Yo, filing.”
* If a crank is somebody you’d be embarrassed to introduce your mother to, then I guess I’m a crank.
* When my therapist went potty, I snuck a glance at her notes: “Patient continues to display extreme narcissistic tendencies with overlapping sociopathic behavior and possible psychopathic inclinations, too. Repeatedly talks about his father and the world to come. Claims to be a leader. Also says he has no attachable assets, and will no longer pay for sessions. Refuses to acknowledge he is in a state-run hospital for the criminally insane.”
* Notice that whenever women post an above average photo of themselves on Facebook, their girlfriends pile on and say how sexy and adorable and fantastic and fabulous she looks?
* My friend waits on hold for 35 minutes to talk to the IRS. Finally, a woman comes online and says in a harsh ghetto accent: “This is Miss Simpson, ID #8523748.”
Friend: “Mam, I’m not a typewriter. Could you say that number more slowly?”
The woman hangs up.
He dreads going to court to deal with black filing clerks or to face black judges because they tend to treat non-blacks like crap and favor their own kind.
I remember serving on a jury in Inglewood. The defendant was a black driver with positive tests for driving while intoxicated. The two blacks on the jury wouldn’t convict him because there were enough young black men behind bars and so we ended up a hung jury. The judge was black (Judge Johnson) and he was totally fair and even let us out early on Friday afternoon so I could observe the Sabbath.