It's a derogatory yet hilarious term for lesbian.
For example, at a lesbian bar, one woman might say to another, "I find you very attractive. Do you wish to joust with my clam?"
Hope that helps. Happy New Year.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
To Person Who Found My Blog By Googling "Define Clam Jouster"
It's a derogatory yet hilarious term for lesbian.
For example, at a lesbian bar, one woman might say to another, "I find you very attractive. Do you wish to joust with my clam?"
Hope that helps. Happy New Year.
Awesome
Yay. Enough people are interested in the same line blogging thing so we're doing it. On Monday, January 5, I'll post the name of the book or article, which should be the title of the post, and a line from the book or article, which should be everyone's first line.
I think it's gonna be cool!
PS There are some bloggers I haven't heard from (ahem Fannie, Daisy, Namby, Jane, Wayward, Hellafied, Brita, Kelli, Justice Moustache, Thinking Fool, Obsquatch, A-Hottie etc...) I hope you guys do it, too!
Oh, and HAPPY FUCKING NEW YEAR. Don't get arrested. No one likes New Year's Day Bond Court.
I think it's gonna be cool!
PS There are some bloggers I haven't heard from (ahem Fannie, Daisy, Namby, Jane, Wayward, Hellafied, Brita, Kelli, Justice Moustache, Thinking Fool, Obsquatch, A-Hottie etc...) I hope you guys do it, too!
Oh, and HAPPY FUCKING NEW YEAR. Don't get arrested. No one likes New Year's Day Bond Court.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Dear My Fellow Bloggers,
I have an idea. An experiment. It might be stupid, but it might be kind of cool. I spoke with a couple of people already, and they seemed to be leaning toward the cool side. So here goes:
We pick a day. And on that day, I pick up a book or newspaper article, and the title of that book or newspaper article will be the title of everyone's blog post. I randomly select a sentence from the book or article, and that has to be the first line of everyone's blog post. And then we write whatever the fuck we want. It can be a story from our lives. It can be fiction, non-fiction, it can be commentary. It can be fucking poetry if we are so inclined. Whatever we want, the only thing these posts have in common is they all come from the same point of inspiration-one line of someone else's text.
Then, I'll post a link back to all of the posts.
I think it would be cool, and fun. And interesting. If it works, maybe we'll do it once a month or so. It obviously would only work if others did it, too. So... who's in? Doesn't matter if you're a new blogger or an old blogger... doesn't matter if you're a regular reader of Law With Grace, or if you just stumbled by. Just leave a comment and let me know if you wanna give it a try.
And just so you know... I read a LOT of blogs, and there are some of you I am REALLY hoping will play along.
PS, if you know me personally, you better say you're in. Or you get shanked.
We pick a day. And on that day, I pick up a book or newspaper article, and the title of that book or newspaper article will be the title of everyone's blog post. I randomly select a sentence from the book or article, and that has to be the first line of everyone's blog post. And then we write whatever the fuck we want. It can be a story from our lives. It can be fiction, non-fiction, it can be commentary. It can be fucking poetry if we are so inclined. Whatever we want, the only thing these posts have in common is they all come from the same point of inspiration-one line of someone else's text.
Then, I'll post a link back to all of the posts.
I think it would be cool, and fun. And interesting. If it works, maybe we'll do it once a month or so. It obviously would only work if others did it, too. So... who's in? Doesn't matter if you're a new blogger or an old blogger... doesn't matter if you're a regular reader of Law With Grace, or if you just stumbled by. Just leave a comment and let me know if you wanna give it a try.
And just so you know... I read a LOT of blogs, and there are some of you I am REALLY hoping will play along.
PS, if you know me personally, you better say you're in. Or you get shanked.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Grace's How to Guide for Getting Through the Holidays
1. Don't drink too much.
2. Definitely drink enough.
3. If someone starts crying, ignore them. If that doesn't work, ask them if they wouldn't mind getting something out of your car, and then lock them out of the house. Christmas is tough. No cryin
4. Don't call anyone fat.
5. If someone says something mean to someone else, mention to the hostess how good the gravy is. The next time, mention how beautiful the tree looks.
6. If you regularly take an anti-anxiety pill, don't stop cuz it's Christmas.
7. Don't ask the single people about their dating lives.
8. Don't ask your married friends if there are any hot single people at their place of employment in front of their spouse.
9. Don't talk about abortion. For or against it, it's not Christmas Dinner talk.
10. Don't EVERYBODY bring their dogs.
11. DON'T GET CONFUSED AND CALL ME A PUBLIC DEFENDER. YOU WILL GET CUT!
12. Stop buying your grandmother lotion. She has enough.
13. Don't get arrested. No one likes Christmas bond court.
MERRY CHRISTMAS ALL!!!
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Squid's Away Message: Flossin' a Benz on rims that isn't stolen...
2:50 PM Grace: what the fuck does that MEAN?
2:51 PM Squid: so much
2:51 PM Grace: whatever you're too cool for me. i don't care
2:52 PM Squid: it's a line from Tupac's "Picture me Rollin"
Grace: hmm.
Squid: and it means he actually has the money to buy rims for his benz, he is not just fronting like he has money, driving on stolen ones
it
all
makes
perfect
sense
2:53 PM Grace: that's like, the last thing to brag about.
Squid: rims?
Grace: not having to have stolen ones.
2:54 PM Squid: oh
right well, it's only the last thing to brag about if you can brag about it
Grace: sorta like saying "I don't even have an STD" is still saying you're kind of a slut.
2:55 PM Squid: maybe a little different, because with the rims, it'd still be kinda cool to have em if they were stolen, unlike the std
Grace: oh. see i was not aware of that.
2:56 PM Squid: well ultimately, yeah, you've still got your rims
with the std it's like oh, i'm a slut AND i have an std. great.
2:58 PM Grace: it's the way that the line of thinking goes. I think it suggests low self esteem, like, if you're so great that you have a benz, shouldnt you have it GO WITHOUT SAYING that you can afford rims?
2:59 PM Grace: or maybe I'm just bothered because "Flossin' a Ford Explorer" sounds gay, and not in the good way.
3:00 PM Squid: well that's the point
you wouldn't be flossin a ford explorer, unless maybe you were 16 and it was brand new
and the sad part is that flossin a benz doesn't always mean you dont have to steal the rims
you could be leasing your benzo for $300/month
3:02 PM Grace: you can lease a benz for 300?
3:03 PM Squid: less, probably
2:51 PM Squid: so much
2:51 PM Grace: whatever you're too cool for me. i don't care
2:52 PM Squid: it's a line from Tupac's "Picture me Rollin"
Grace: hmm.
Squid: and it means he actually has the money to buy rims for his benz, he is not just fronting like he has money, driving on stolen ones
it
all
makes
perfect
sense
2:53 PM Grace: that's like, the last thing to brag about.
Squid: rims?
Grace: not having to have stolen ones.
2:54 PM Squid: oh
right well, it's only the last thing to brag about if you can brag about it
Grace: sorta like saying "I don't even have an STD" is still saying you're kind of a slut.
2:55 PM Squid: maybe a little different, because with the rims, it'd still be kinda cool to have em if they were stolen, unlike the std
Grace: oh. see i was not aware of that.
2:56 PM Squid: well ultimately, yeah, you've still got your rims
with the std it's like oh, i'm a slut AND i have an std. great.
2:58 PM Grace: it's the way that the line of thinking goes. I think it suggests low self esteem, like, if you're so great that you have a benz, shouldnt you have it GO WITHOUT SAYING that you can afford rims?
2:59 PM Grace: or maybe I'm just bothered because "Flossin' a Ford Explorer" sounds gay, and not in the good way.
3:00 PM Squid: well that's the point
you wouldn't be flossin a ford explorer, unless maybe you were 16 and it was brand new
and the sad part is that flossin a benz doesn't always mean you dont have to steal the rims
you could be leasing your benzo for $300/month
3:02 PM Grace: you can lease a benz for 300?
3:03 PM Squid: less, probably
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Experiment
So, I don't know why we decided to do this, and I don't know what we will really gain by doing this, and most of all, as midnight approaches, I don't know that I can even do it...but here's the plan.
Squid and I, over drinks last week (duh.. who would decide this sober), decided that Monday would be our technology free day. No phone. No TV. No internet. No text messaging.
The phone thing isn't really going to be a problem for me, considering my phone is broken, but STILL... I can't get it fixed tomorrow, unless someone else tests it to make sure it works.
It's going to be interesting. No reading my emails, no reading your comments, no catching up with the news, or blogs, or the weather... it's making me itch just thinking about it.
The only exception is that we can be on Lexis, because well... that's a major part of our work right now. And the experiment isn't how to suck at our jobs.
Wish us luck. I am going to keep notes, and hopefully Squid will, too. We shall post our results on Tuesday or something. If we don't die.
Squid and I, over drinks last week (duh.. who would decide this sober), decided that Monday would be our technology free day. No phone. No TV. No internet. No text messaging.
The phone thing isn't really going to be a problem for me, considering my phone is broken, but STILL... I can't get it fixed tomorrow, unless someone else tests it to make sure it works.
It's going to be interesting. No reading my emails, no reading your comments, no catching up with the news, or blogs, or the weather... it's making me itch just thinking about it.
The only exception is that we can be on Lexis, because well... that's a major part of our work right now. And the experiment isn't how to suck at our jobs.
Wish us luck. I am going to keep notes, and hopefully Squid will, too. We shall post our results on Tuesday or something. If we don't die.
Public Service Announcement
My phone is dead. Very Very dead. I hate it. And I am glad it's dead. It deserves death. It deserves worse than death. I am hoping, that if and when Verizon is able to retrieve my contacts from the phone, they will let me torture the phone a bit. By throwing it, jumping up and down on it, and then setting it on fire. I am going to waterboard my phone. It's gonna be awesome.
However, in the meantime, If you have been calling me or texting me, and I haven't been responding, it's because my phone is dead. Unless of course you are my sister, Bally Total Fitness, or several other people who won't be named here. Then I am just ignoring you. If you need me, email me.
Burn in hell, Palm Centro. Burn in hell.
Happy Sunday Everyone!!! It's 8 whole degrees here in the Windy City! I'm off for a brisk morning jog. And by brisk morning jog, I mean lying on the couch, watching reruns of Lockup: Extended Stay, and eating leftover couscous.
However, in the meantime, If you have been calling me or texting me, and I haven't been responding, it's because my phone is dead. Unless of course you are my sister, Bally Total Fitness, or several other people who won't be named here. Then I am just ignoring you. If you need me, email me.
Burn in hell, Palm Centro. Burn in hell.
Happy Sunday Everyone!!! It's 8 whole degrees here in the Windy City! I'm off for a brisk morning jog. And by brisk morning jog, I mean lying on the couch, watching reruns of Lockup: Extended Stay, and eating leftover couscous.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
And The Weather, by Weather Girl Grace...
It's cold.
It's "your toes are going to be wet and numb all day" cold.
It's "be scared to drive" cold.
It's "what the fuck were you thinking moving back to Chicago from glorious Los Angeles?" cold.
It's "why even bother?" cold.
It's "you're going to die, cold, broke and alone" cold.
It's "of course your dog peed on the floor" cold.
It's "of course your hand slipped and you broke your second to last wine glass" cold.
It's "I am definitely in god's blind spot"cold.
It's "is there even a god?" cold.
It's "the holidays are right around the corner" cold.
It's "it's so cold but still going to get even colder and I don't know how in the world I will ever survive" cold.
It's "I regret all of my life choices" cold.
It's "why even try?" cold.
It's "why does anyone voluntarily live here?" cold.
It's fucking cold. Really really fucking cold.
The end.
It's "your toes are going to be wet and numb all day" cold.
It's "be scared to drive" cold.
It's "what the fuck were you thinking moving back to Chicago from glorious Los Angeles?" cold.
It's "why even bother?" cold.
It's "you're going to die, cold, broke and alone" cold.
It's "of course your dog peed on the floor" cold.
It's "of course your hand slipped and you broke your second to last wine glass" cold.
It's "I am definitely in god's blind spot"cold.
It's "is there even a god?" cold.
It's "the holidays are right around the corner" cold.
It's "it's so cold but still going to get even colder and I don't know how in the world I will ever survive" cold.
It's "I regret all of my life choices" cold.
It's "why even try?" cold.
It's "why does anyone voluntarily live here?" cold.
It's fucking cold. Really really fucking cold.
The end.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Friday, December 12, 2008
Sunday, December 07, 2008
Live blogging the The Amtrak Wolverine
12:10 So far so good. I took a half day today. I brought my luggage with me, and am now on my way to visit the agent and her wife in Detroit. Normally, I would drive, but at the last minute I decided to give the train a shot. It's shit ass cold, so I took a cab from the courthouse to Union Station. It took me about 5 minutes to get my tickets. Then Artful, whose office is across the street from the train station, ran over to bring me diet cokes, Season 3 of Arrested Development, a documentary on how Miami became the cocaine capital of the world, and a book about hunting down Pablo Escobar. Smart dude. I had already brought with me season 2 of Boston Legal, and the autobiography of Julia Phillips, who is the first woman to win the Oscar for Best Picture. There's no shortage of entertainment.
Then, I went over to the food court and got three chicken tacos. for $6.00. At the airport, that would have cost me $10.00. I got on the train, noticed there was a shit-ton of legroom, and no one sitting next to me. So far, I don't know WHAT the hell Carrie Bradshaw was bitching about. This seems freakin' awesome! No one telling me what to make sure my tray table is up and my seat is in its upright position. No one telling me not to use my computer. Admittedly, I haven't seen the bar car, and I haven't seen the bathroom, but for now, I have no complaints. And off we go departing exactly on time at 12:15...
12:36 It seems we've stopped for no apparent reason.
12:46 Still Stopped. The conductor tried to inform us through the PA system what was going on. But apparently the PA system wasn't working. So all we know is "thank you for patience. We will...soon...signal...time...with."
12:49 Awwwwww.... because the PA system isn't working, the train conductor PERSONALLY went to each car to inform us that there is a delay due to a freight train, and as soon as we get a signal that the freight train is gone, we shall continue on our quest to the Motor City and beyond.
12:54 Apparently the PA system is working again. They are telling us A. That the bar car is now open and it is in the front of the car. B. We cannot smoke. C. That the bathrooms are unisex, so please knock before going in, and D. to please remember to flush the toilets when we are done. We are still not moving.
12:58 Ok. we are moving.
1:27 We're stopped again. There's a train crew working on the tracks. I wanna be annoyed, but I just feel really badly for the poor guys working on the tracks. It's really cold outside. And I'm watching Boston Legal with a diet coke. My tacos were delightful by the way. After I finish this episode of Boston Legal, I'm..EEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWW... the guy across from me is eating a banana. In case you don't know this about me, I fucking HATE bananas. Everything about them makes me sick, and EWWWWWWWWWWWWWW he just draped his gross banana peel across his pant legs!!! omg I have to take a picture.
Then, I went over to the food court and got three chicken tacos. for $6.00. At the airport, that would have cost me $10.00. I got on the train, noticed there was a shit-ton of legroom, and no one sitting next to me. So far, I don't know WHAT the hell Carrie Bradshaw was bitching about. This seems freakin' awesome! No one telling me what to make sure my tray table is up and my seat is in its upright position. No one telling me not to use my computer. Admittedly, I haven't seen the bar car, and I haven't seen the bathroom, but for now, I have no complaints. And off we go departing exactly on time at 12:15...
12:36 It seems we've stopped for no apparent reason.
12:46 Still Stopped. The conductor tried to inform us through the PA system what was going on. But apparently the PA system wasn't working. So all we know is "thank you for patience. We will...soon...signal...time...with."
12:49 Awwwwww.... because the PA system isn't working, the train conductor PERSONALLY went to each car to inform us that there is a delay due to a freight train, and as soon as we get a signal that the freight train is gone, we shall continue on our quest to the Motor City and beyond.
12:54 Apparently the PA system is working again. They are telling us A. That the bar car is now open and it is in the front of the car. B. We cannot smoke. C. That the bathrooms are unisex, so please knock before going in, and D. to please remember to flush the toilets when we are done. We are still not moving.
12:58 Ok. we are moving.
1:27 We're stopped again. There's a train crew working on the tracks. I wanna be annoyed, but I just feel really badly for the poor guys working on the tracks. It's really cold outside. And I'm watching Boston Legal with a diet coke. My tacos were delightful by the way. After I finish this episode of Boston Legal, I'm..EEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWW... the guy across from me is eating a banana. In case you don't know this about me, I fucking HATE bananas. Everything about them makes me sick, and EWWWWWWWWWWWWWW he just draped his gross banana peel across his pant legs!!! omg I have to take a picture.
This is the single worst thing that could POSSIBLY HAPPEN.
Eww. And the train is STILL not moving. The workers have GOT to get off the tracks. OK. We're moving. I can just block this out. Uggh. Stupid banana fumes have permeated through my diet coke can and now my delicious diet coke is ruined.
1:43 The banana is still there. How can a person just sit there with a banana peel on his knee? What's next tying a used condom around his wrist? This is BEYOND unacceptable. And now I have to pee. Maybe I should switch to a beverage of the alcoholic variety.
1:43 The banana is still there. How can a person just sit there with a banana peel on his knee? What's next tying a used condom around his wrist? This is BEYOND unacceptable. And now I have to pee. Maybe I should switch to a beverage of the alcoholic variety.
1:50 Thankfully, the banana peel and its owner have left.
2:40 I wanna make love to the Amtrak. It's divine. The bathroom, of course, was a little gross. But the bar car? Sublime. The bar car operator? Delightful. My beverage of choice? Pinot Grigio. In a little bit, I might go get some pretzels. This is, with the exception of the early delays and Banana Man, the most relaxing travel experience I've had in America. No one is talking on cell phones. No babies are crying. No... yawn.... I think I might close my eyes for awhile...
2:58 Too filled with joy to possibly sleep. Denny shot his therapist. Giggle giggle giggle.
3:14 I think I've decided to throw away at least 50% of my wardrobe. It's snowing in Kalamazoo. I wonder if Kalamazoo is hiring prosecutors.
3:32 The train may or may not have hit a deer or perhaps a person. We have stopped while the situation is investigated. Based on the findings, we may or may not continue to the next stop. Banana Man has returned. Some other guy in a bad sweater asked me what the Dow closed at. Ooooh. We're moving! I guess we didn't hit anything.
4:53 (actually 5:53 because of the time change. I'm almost there. The agent is already at the station waiting for me. I'm so happy to be getting away for the weekend. I was just informed that the first thing we will be doing is decorating a Christmas tree. I don't even care. Bring on the fucking holiday cheer. Bring it on.
In closing, a haiku to Amtrak:
Oh Amtrak, My Love;
Oh Amtrak, My Love;
You made me not hate Christmas.
Just for today, though.
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
Yay December! Criminals Suck!
Last night after work, Squid, Dirty Hippie, and I went to a little place near the office for a glass of wine. We go to this place fairly frequently, and are on a first name basis with the bartender. The usual patrons of the bar are either lawyers or judges who work in the nearby courthouse, or well-dressed theatre patrons on their way to see Wicked, or a Christmas Carol. In other words, a fairly upscale crowd. So, last night, we went in and sat down at the bar. Hippie was on the right, Squid was in the middle, and I was on the left. Next to me were two empty seats.
After a few minutes, a young-ish couple walked into the bar. They were neither dressed like lawyers, or theatre-goers, but I didn't really notice that at the time. They ordered waters, and asked to see the wine list. The bartender brought them water and the wine list.
They didn't drink their water. They didn't order wine. Instead, they walked out. With my wallet. FUCKERS.
I really fucking hate criminals. I really really do. I had six dollars in that fucking wallet. That's not even enough to buy the teeniest bit of crack, even if you throw a blowjob or a stolen cellphone into the mix. (I don't know this from personal experience. I practice criminal law.) So, I can't even imagine how it was worth it to them.
More than I hate criminals, I really hate feel victimized. I mean, I know that it's just a wallet, it's just six dollars. Replacing the contents of the wallet is a huge pain in the ass, and seriously, I had gotten used to flashing some very attractive photo id's that now I have to go and retake. That's really the extent of it.
I feel awful. Last night, a couple of criminals saw me and my friends. They saw me dressed in a suit. They saw me smiling and laughing, and enjoying a glass of wine. They saw me, with my guard down, which it hardly ever is anymore, not worrying about my jacket hanging over the back of my barstool. And they looked at what they thought I had. And they felt entitled to take it from me.
It's not like I was hurt. It's not like I was robbed at gunpoint. It's not like I have anything really worth stealing, and even so, it's just money. My friends certainly had enough to cover the bill, and they lovingly and sympathetically gave me a little cash so I could get home.
It's a very helpless feeling, though, being a crime victim, even for an incredibly minor crime such as this. It's the second time in three years that I've been one. I'm not going to talk about the first time which was...more serious, but I will say that it's interesting how no matter the severity of a crime, how it affects the psyche is awfully similar. It's embarrasing. You replay it over and over again. You blame yourself. Fuck! I should have known better... I shouldn't have hung my jacket on the back of my chair. I should have had my wallet in my purse. What was I doing out on a Monday anyway? This is my fault. Why me? And on. And on. And on. And. Fucking. On.
I don't know. Maybe this will make me a better lawyer. Maybe I will become a better advocate for crime victims...yeah...
Except I'm pretty sure after spending the day at the DMV replacing my fucking driver's license, I will be one vindictive bitch. Fuck it. I hope they took my wallet with my six dollars, ran out of the bar and got hit by a truck.
After a few minutes, a young-ish couple walked into the bar. They were neither dressed like lawyers, or theatre-goers, but I didn't really notice that at the time. They ordered waters, and asked to see the wine list. The bartender brought them water and the wine list.
They didn't drink their water. They didn't order wine. Instead, they walked out. With my wallet. FUCKERS.
I really fucking hate criminals. I really really do. I had six dollars in that fucking wallet. That's not even enough to buy the teeniest bit of crack, even if you throw a blowjob or a stolen cellphone into the mix. (I don't know this from personal experience. I practice criminal law.) So, I can't even imagine how it was worth it to them.
More than I hate criminals, I really hate feel victimized. I mean, I know that it's just a wallet, it's just six dollars. Replacing the contents of the wallet is a huge pain in the ass, and seriously, I had gotten used to flashing some very attractive photo id's that now I have to go and retake. That's really the extent of it.
I feel awful. Last night, a couple of criminals saw me and my friends. They saw me dressed in a suit. They saw me smiling and laughing, and enjoying a glass of wine. They saw me, with my guard down, which it hardly ever is anymore, not worrying about my jacket hanging over the back of my barstool. And they looked at what they thought I had. And they felt entitled to take it from me.
It's not like I was hurt. It's not like I was robbed at gunpoint. It's not like I have anything really worth stealing, and even so, it's just money. My friends certainly had enough to cover the bill, and they lovingly and sympathetically gave me a little cash so I could get home.
It's a very helpless feeling, though, being a crime victim, even for an incredibly minor crime such as this. It's the second time in three years that I've been one. I'm not going to talk about the first time which was...more serious, but I will say that it's interesting how no matter the severity of a crime, how it affects the psyche is awfully similar. It's embarrasing. You replay it over and over again. You blame yourself. Fuck! I should have known better... I shouldn't have hung my jacket on the back of my chair. I should have had my wallet in my purse. What was I doing out on a Monday anyway? This is my fault. Why me? And on. And on. And on. And. Fucking. On.
I don't know. Maybe this will make me a better lawyer. Maybe I will become a better advocate for crime victims...yeah...
Except I'm pretty sure after spending the day at the DMV replacing my fucking driver's license, I will be one vindictive bitch. Fuck it. I hope they took my wallet with my six dollars, ran out of the bar and got hit by a truck.
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