yustyoking

                Well, first let me say that liquid laundry detergent is far superior to powder. I always use liquid. That said, aren’t you just ready to EXPIRE in this heat? Have you ever noticed that when it gets really dry, the little birdies hop around with their beaks open like they are PANTING?

How are you, dears???

Ever since that poor woman, Juror B37, spent THREE TEDIOUS WEEKS listening to testimony and then TWO WHOLE DAYS deliberating, SPILLED HER GUTS to that fag Anderson Cooper on CNN— and then got her book deal scotched by those BLUE MEANIES on Twitter— they’re such Angry Birds!— well, literary agent Scotty LeMarr has been pestering me to go public with the details of the newly concluded Rachel Krakow trial. Rachel, the poor dear, (pronounced RAY-chell) has simply had a dreadful time, in spite of being acquitted of murder, manslaughter, accidental death and reckless endangerment. Did she throttle that chicken with her bare hands? A CSI forensic study of the crime scene, including digital photos, as well as a courtroom screening of the film Gladiator (I prefer to see it in all it’s widescreen glory at the Multiplex), plus impassioned oratory and a dissertation by Finnish ornithologist Sven-Bertil Rasmussen proved beyond a sliver of introspection that a violent crime had indeed been committed. How violent? Go back and look at the diagrams! See how line A connects with triangle B-2 just to the left of dot 61? SOMEONE HAS COMMITTED VIOLENCE… the sequestration room is a mess, papers thrown everywhere, coffee cups all over the floor… and it wasn’t me!!!

What would King Solomon do? President Pajamas says we should stay calm, we’re a country of laws, and the Zimmerman jury has decided. Yeah, and hot air rises. Remember O.J.!!!

Scotty tells me that in order to reach book length, “You should pad your story by throwing in a lot of historical background. Describe your childhood in Louisiana, emphasizing your most eccentric relatives. Your cousins, your in-laws. Make it sound like their peculiarities made you vote the way you did!” Scotty also wants me to come out publically and admit to being sexually assaulted as a child. “All our most successful female authors have suffered sexual abuse,” he assures me. “Toni Morrison, Oprah, Hillary, Elizabeth Dole, Christine Quinn. What separates the epic tell-all from a crumpled Radio City Music Hall playbill discarded in the garbage? Being sexually assaulted as a child!!! That’s what! Ask Oprah. Does a chimp eat bananas?”

So I’ve been working on passages like, “What did Mr. Kuksugare mean when he said, ‘You have a comely figure, Mädchen Cummings!’ Did he like my figure or was this a reference to something else, something intangible, something not in this room, transient, spiritual, not of this universe? ‘Come this way, let me show you something,’ he would say, leading me by the hand into the photo lab, shrouded in darkness. A shaft of light from the streetlamp on the corner revealed Mr. Kuksugare in the process of unzipping the zipper on his chinos!!

“As a southern girl, I was scandalized!!!”

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            Judge Marjorie Hathaway was quite the taskmaster. She demanded we decide: Did Rachel Krakow ring that chicken’s neck out of anger or malice? Did Rachel hate that chicken or merely despise it? How much is fresh boneless breast selling for at the supermarket? Well, that last question is mine. Was Rachel’s crime USDA approved? Was it kashrut? Is Rachel Krakow an ordained bitcher? I mean butcher. Again, that’s me. I’m asking some questions, too, here. I’m no Spring Chicken, but… I am still a woman! I still have diabetes and hot flashes. In my pre-trial deposition during jury selection, I explained my love of movies as a cathartic release. You crawl into a dark, hot womb and experience a totally different life. Like everyone else, I assumed Olympus Has Fallen would be about Olympus Auto Parts’ struggle to survive in a changing marketplace. Anyone driving a Chevelle has a lot invested in old Olympus Auto Parts, believe you me! What were those Hollywood honchos thinking? It’s all very confusing, because the North Koreans don’t sell cars Stateside. Unless, of course, you count the Hyundai, which isn’t so much an automobile as a wind-up toy. Anyway, if you’re going to have North Koreans attack Washington, DC, have them attack something important. Something we’d all miss. Like KFC. And if you are gonna have them attack the White House, get Jerry Seinfeld to write the damn screenplay. With Johnny Depp as Bantu Stan. Okay, okay, okay! But they make these movies into Broadway musicals, right? Mamma Mia! The Producers. Young Frankenstein. You effete, liberal snobs think we Texans are Neanderthal Know-nothings. We may live in Lubbock in The Lone Star State, but we still get basic cable!

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            The Zimmerman jury’s acquittal was politically incorrect, I grant you. A lone gunman guns down an unarmed youth. That doesn’t sound so good on paper. It’s like watching High Noon and having the outlaw gunslinger arrive on the train and promptly shoot Sheriff Gary Cooper dead. Not good! Was it a bad verdict in the Zimmerman trial? Let’s say it was! Well, that didn’t stop Rolling Stone magazine from publishing Dhzokhar Tsarnaev on their cover! Fame and fortune, everybody. Who Wants To Marry A Millionaire? The Bachelorette. American Idol. My oh my! “Birdie yum-yum!” We know what has real value in America!

Money!!!

I think it was racially insensitive of the birdbrained, leftwing twitterati to silence an American patriot! White folks got a right to speak out, too, y’know. That Juror B37’s chicken-shit literary agent caved surprised no one. I know that there is a great deal of pain among the general public, but I am confident that even this current heat wave will end at some point.

Who are you calling politically incorrect, sweetie pie? Stevie Wonder refused last year to perform a benefit concert for Israeli soldiers because they didn’t fulfill his peacenik criteria. Bye, Bye, Birdie. I’ve met Israeli children at my kids’ playground up the street. Their daddy is a war hero soldier. Don’t you think those little tykes and toddlers want to grow up and be like daddy? A war hero? A soldier? Maybe we women better rethink where we’re at. I haven’t visited the Holy Land, but maybe it’s the Palestinians who are the troublemakers. I’m allowed to ask that, since I’m no prissy-assed East Coast women’s libber. I do my libbing right here by my Texas barbecue pit. You want an example of a “morally indefensible act”? Buying a foreign-made pickup truck! Buy American, dammit!

Everyone else on that Krakow jury may have been ignoramuses, but I’m a woman with heart! I have realized that the best direction for me to go is south down state highway 87 to US 20 at Big Spring and turn west to Odessa. Writing this piece for that a-hole Kevin Feinwhistle neither contributes nor detracts, although it would be nice if he could pay me something, that Jewboy!

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            I know why the prosecutors wanted ME on the jury and it wasn’t for my pretty blue eyes! The victim was a chicken. I own a parakeet, a cockatoo, an egret and a New Zealand emu. I don’t just love birds, they are my life. Without them, I am no more than a damp smudge on the linoleum floor of life!

Also, like Rachel, I come from a bad marriage. If the husband who I hate, despise, detest and loathe— but dearly love and upon whom I am totally economically dependent— played mind games with my head, distracting me from both my important work and the daily crossword puzzle, wouldn’t I be justified in approaching his hen house, ax in hand? Then we come to the gold ring in the case, the toppermost question, the kernel of truth in the bank depository of justice. If a chicken gets away from me and jumps the fence and crosses the road, do I have the right to chase after it, catch it and strangle it with my bare hands? Why did the chicken cross the road? Can “rage” be classified as an extenuating circumstance? Rachel’s ying was out of alignment with her yang and things went terribly wong.

When I returned his ring to my ex-husband, I said, “Here! With this ring, do I thee unwed.” Amen to that, y’all! He was a sweet boy who grew into a fulminating monster whom I am happy not to know. He became a real “Birdman of Alcatraz.” The only thing wrong with Florida is Floridians.

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            The RACIAL aspect of the Rachel Krakow trial (pronounced CRACK-ow) can no longer be ignored or swept under the carpet! Was that clucker a “Rodriguez,” an illegal alien from South of the Border? ANY border?! The border with Nicaragua, although that would put the trial in Honduras. The border with Canada, although then the trial would have been in Alberta. I have to admit, I don’t know! What was that bird’s DNA profile? Is racial profiling permissible among poultry???

I refuse to give you cultural examples of injustice. To do that, I would have to read the newspaper, something I resolutely refuse to do! Newspapers are for lining birdcages! If you want REAL information, listen to A.M. Talk Radio. Unbiased, unvarnished truth in every word! Rush Limbaugh lambasted the homo community for havin’ a Kiss-In in front of Chick-fil-A. Let them submarine watch in their pink pickup trucks up on Lovers’ Lookout, just like the rest of us. Even the radio preacher on the Sunday morning religious hour swears on the Bible that he’s telling God’s truth!

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            I have been traumatized by the almost three hours of testimony in the Rachel Krakow case and the 25 minutes it took us to reach a verdict of acquittal “by reason of insanity.” I cried. I was bored to tears. Rachel Krakow’s doctor testified that her heart is in the right place, behind and slightly to the left of her breastbone. I insist on my First Amendment right to sound off, which I find therapeutic. You only know me from this Perry Mason murder trail in Small Claims Court. That’s not the real me! I am blessed by Our Lord Jesus with the Kiss of Life. When troubled, I need only open the New Testament Bible and find an appropriate passage. When those IRS MEANIES attached my housed and car for overdue taxes, I pointed out: “The Lord is my shepherd… He maketh me to lie down in green pastures.” Well? What?! I can’t file a tax return from the middle of Spring Meadows! Besides, the time shall come when I am anointed with oil. I practice spagyria, the turning of base metal into gold. My time will come. After the Rapture, we’ll see who’s laughing, Mr. “Hanky” Bernanke! When the creatures from Outer Space come and take over the Earth, they’ll spare ME because I BELIEVE in them!!! It’s only unbelievers like YOU who they’ll ionize into tiny, gritty granules of volcanic ash.