My wife has finally agreed that I should replace the pipes on my motorcycle. Not that there’s anything wrong with them. The chrome is pristine, the baffles are intact, and they work perfectly… a little too perfectly for my taste.

I want something throaty… something that will strike fear into the hearts of little old ladies.

Today, I placed the order.

Here’s my bike:

Here’s a stock version with the new pipes:

Here’s what they’re gonna sound like (according to the website). The audio was recorded using my model of bike :
Startup and idle
Idle and Go
Driveby

Ooooohhh… sexy!!

I’ve seen and heard these pipes on other bikes, and I have to say that I like them. I guess if you don’t see me, at least you should hear me now. Perahps that will help you to not run over my ass.

I was called back into jury duty on Monday.

They had asked that we call in at noon to find out if we were needed or not. Apparently we were, and we were needed RIGHT DAMN NOW!!!. So, I had to race into town (I work in the valley and there’s construction everywhere between here and the courthouse. I made it with 5 minutes to spare.

I went into yet another courtroom and did the jury selection shuffle. I didn’t say much this time and sat back and watched the other people do their best to impress (though I did tell them about my family’s law enforcement history).

They picked me as juror #9.

The next morning, I was in the courtroom listing to a case. The defendant was charged with possession of a controlled substance (cocaine). There were a lot of odd details for this case and nothing was as straight forward as the prosecution would have us believe. The trial only lasted until about 2:30 and then we went into deliberations.

First and foremost: people, as a general rule, are stupid. I’m not saying that I’m anything special, but when ever I get stuck someplace with strangers, I find that an overwhelming urge to twist someone’s neck shut comes over me. It’s difficult to restrain myself at times.

Jury deliberation was one of those times.

We first elected a jury foreman. They tried to get me to do it but I convinced them that someone else might be better suited. We then ran around the table, giving general impressions of the case (remember, we’re not supposed to decide until after we talk it over). It was immediately apparent that this wasn’t the case.

The room was 7 to 5 for the guilty verdict right off the bat.

Two hours later… it was 11 to 1 for guilty (and you can guess what chair I was sitting in).

I wasn’t trying to be a pain in the ass, but we were deciding the path that someone’s life was about to take. I didn’t want to do a quick “call ’em guilty and lets get a beer”. They hadn’t looked at everything the way that we were instructed to and I was going to hold them to it.

I finally changed my vote, though I still had a few reservations, but I had passed the “reasonable doubt” threshold. We returned to the court room and read it to the Judge.

I’m not going to hold this as a fond memory and certainly didn’t make any friends, but I do feel that the defendant got a fair trial, and that’s what is important.

I was released from the case that I was in the jury selection pool for (which means I can talk about it now), and this makes me very happy. The young man on trial, Devenniyon Courtney, was charged with the following offences:

Burglary
Robbery
Kidnapping
1st Degree Murder

Not the kind of trial I wanted to sit on.

The idea that my opinion would send a man to jail for a very long time (and/or shorten his life substantially) isn’t exactly appealing.

I believe I wasn’t chosen because my father was an officer, and my great uncle was the Chief of Police in this town for a number of years.

Now I have to call in every night at 5:30 to see if my number has been requested to show up again. Repeat for the rest of the week and all next week.

Other news: My wife and I celebrated our 15th wedding anniversary last night. It was a very low key event. She made a wonderful dinner of stuffed pork chops about 2″ (5.08 cm) thick (this is a treat for me, since I normally do all the cooking) and I got her a dozen long stem roses.

This weekend: We’re buying more rock, more plants, and digging in the yard. Since I’ve become active for the first time in 3 years (back surgery is a bitch!), I’ve lost 10 pounds (4.5kg) , bring me down to 210 pounds (95.25kg). I’m 6’4″ (193cm), so I think that’s pretty good for my height (though if I could just lose a little more, I’d be happy).

I’m stuck in jury duty and it appears that I might have a trial of some weight to deal with.

So…. I may not post much for a while (something about “you will not talk to the media or anyone else about the trial until you are dismissed under penalty of federal ‘pound me in the ass’ prison”).

Yeah… I’m just gonna keep my mouth shut.

I’ll post when I can (or if I do post, it surely won’t be about anything that might make me someones bitch).

I found this on a friends livejournal and gave it a run for itself.

Funny thing is… I lived in the midwest from 6th grade until I graduated high school. Of course, I made fun of anyone who called lunch “dinner” and dinner “supper” (and did you know that a “lunch” is a snack?). Of course, many people there “warsh” their hands too.

That’s why I moved to Warshington.