I got called for Jury Duty. Noooooooooooooooooooo!

I don't have time for this crap! I mean, I LOVE participating in my American Judicial System. It's my OPPORTUNITY as a citizen to... yeah, right. My job is to bring you your exclusive HogWild semi-hilarious comedy, not decide the fate of some criminal! Uh, I mean defendant.

HINT: To be released from Jury Duty, when the Defense Attorney speaks to you, continually refer to his client, as "The Criminal."

*** Worst Excuse Given to Judge to be Excused from Jury Duty ***

40 year old woman: Ess cooz me judge. I no speak English so good. I mean, I understand, but if they speak so fast I no understand.

Judge: How long have you lived in this country?

40 year old woman: Uh, um, 17 years.

Judge: Have you ever served on a jury before?

40 year old woman: Uh, um, 2 times. But if you speak so fast I no understand. Uh...

Judge: NOT EXCUSED.
 

The ordeal begins at 8:45 A.M. I get in the long ass line to pass through the metal detectors.

Every type of person from Brooklyn was there. I felt like I was an immigrant waiting on line at Ellis Island in 1833. There were Russians in wooly hats, red headed Irishmen carrying sacks of potatoes, Jewish families carrying Torahs and Tay-Sachs, and there was a short, mustachioed South American man with a mule and cart.

I don't know what Jury Duty is like in the rest of the country, but in Brooklyn, they put you and about 200 other people in this huge holding pen that looks like an enormous airport waiting room.

A pudgy bureaucrat makes some lame jokes about how much fun we're about to have. Then he turns on the many mounted televisions. Let the brainwashing begin!

We see a video introducing us to what Jury Duty is all about. Cheesy instrumental music blaring from a Casio keyboard welcomes us to a photograph of an impressive government building. In big bold, yet very plain, white letters the video declares: "Jury Duty! It's Awesome!"

Ed Bradley from 60 Minutes waves an American Flag and reminds us that is our duty as citizens to serve justice. And we will appreciate the jury system if and when WE are on trial. (Gulp!)

Ed tells us that, as jurors, we are very powerful. He even explains how being a juror is more powerful than voting! At this point I'm thinking, "Well, I don't do THAT, either. So can I be excused?"

If Democracy was a class in high school, I'd get a Zero for participation.

The bureaucrat basically treated us like we were in high school. Except it was a specialized High School for the Exceptionally Slow. He read every direction THREE times. And even still, something really cool happened. Just before he began to pick potential jurors, he reminded us to look at our Jury Notice.

"If the date on your Jury Notice is NOT the same as today's date, please step forward."

And 3 morons actually did! These idiots just wasted 2 hours of their lives waiting in this room + the subway commute to get there AND they still have to show up on the correct date! DUMB-ASS!

When these geniuses stood up, I stood up and started a Yankee Stadium style chant of A$$$$$$$$$$$$-Hole!

HA HA HA! I wish I could've done that!

Then he asks, "Who here does not speak English?"

One-third of the room gets up.

This is New York City, after all.

But there was a little Chinese lady next to me who didn't understand what he said BECAUSE SHE DOESN'T SPEAK ENGLISH!!!!

You'd think they'd teach the bureaucrat to say "Who does not Speak English?" in 14 languages.

And why should immigrants who are too lazy or stupid to learn English get excused?! Screw 'em! If I can hit a little button on my TV remote control and magically see the words in Spanish across my screen, why can't they provide subtitles in the court?

Fine. If, because of their language barrier, they can't serve Jury Duty, then they should serve the Jurors. Hors d'oeuvres. And sandwiches. And they should shine our shoes while we listen to testimony. Maybe a backrub.

I wouldn't mind a Korean woman massaging those yellow things on my feet while a Russian woman waxed my shoulders. Hey, why should I suffer alone?! They should suffer, too! (And if you've seen my feet and shoulders, you know they WILL suffer.)

"I'll massage you, Hoggy. I'm the big breasted Jewish Asian girl of your dreams!"

The last group that was automatically excused was amusing. Because the bureaucrat asks, "Please step forward if you have been convicted of a felony." You could HEAR it as everyone's neck snapped to look who among us was a serious criminal.

Now they are ready for potential jurors. So they called up about 30 people. So now the rest of us just sit there. Bored as hell, I looked around the room for some hot bims to pass the time.

NOTE TO MY GIRLFRIEND: I love you. I only did this because I forgot to bring your photo with me. Repeat: I love you. Please don't hurt me.

Sadly, out of 200 people, there was only 1 hot bim. In fact, this was the ugliest group of people I had seen in a very long time. Not since my days as an Engineering student in Cleveland had I been surrounded my so many non-attractive humans.

And I use the term "humans" loosely. Because one older white woman looked exactly like a bull frog.

Good thing she had a curly blonde mop with black roots on her head to accentuate the inhaling and exhaling of her froggy Buccal Cavity.

And worst of all, the vending machine was packed with crap. Nothing healthy. And nothing unhealthy but yummy. We're talking stale pretzels here. And that stupid bull frog woman had already snapped up all the good flies with her 17 inch tongue.

Everyone in Brooklyn was represented at Jury Duty: Hasidic Jews, white trash, ghetto blacks, ironic hipsters, Chinese in black shoes with white socks, bull dog dykes, bull frog frights, and a handful of normal people.

The problem is, you don't know who is normal. Because people wanted to socialize. But everyone is afraid of engaging a crazy person, or worse, an annoying person. No one here is pre-qualified as normal. And in New York City, you can't judge by looks. New York has poorly dressed millionaires and well-dressed perve-freaks.

That's why when I become President of the Solar System, I'm making a law: Everyone must wear stickers. The stickers will tell the world what the hell your problem is:

"Crazy Lady"

"Annoying Non-Stop Talker"

"I Will Tell You About All my Physical Ailments Within 2 Minutes of Meeting You"

"I Have Something to Sell You"

"100% Chance I Will Spit on You when I Talk"

Okay, let's look at the one cute girl. She's twirling her hair and reading the newspaper. Except she's moving her lips while reading. Ah, semi-literacy is hot.

"I don't read so good. But I do have some seriously large bookmarks."
 

One nub is reading a freakin' PORNO mag while waiting! Either this guy has no self-control or he wants to get off Jury Duty really bad. Emphasis on "get off."

Ooh, a girl with a huge rack! Her boobs stretching the fabric of her tight white shirt. Oh! I think I see nipple! I see nipple!!! Okay, I'm losing my mind. Please get me out of here! This poor girl's face looked like Toucan Sam if Toucan Sam had a serious and untreatable skin condition. Help me!

Part 2 of Jury Duty Jokes