Tuesday, October 26, 2004

I just got off the phone with Currer. He is so wack when he is sober. He read the "exciting parts" of his Torts to me in his best "new england snob" accent. Evidentally the judge he was quoting thought he was Dashiell Hammet. It was quite amusing. A woman and her child got clipped by a taxi cab in Manhattan and she tried to sue the driver for negligence. It turned out that the driver had to abandon his vehicle after it was carjacked by a mugger with a gun. It included a few classical references and shakespearean metaphores. Though the judge had symapthy for the woman and her child, he rules for the, uh, (defendant? plaintiff? I can't recall), taxi cab driver.

I asked him how scary FatSeb was doing and he launched into an droll anecdote involving a "mexican laborer," an ad for found historical documents on craigslist, the demolition of the San Hoe Portuguese Fraternity Brotherhood Hall, the GAR (a Civil War Veterans association, for former Union soldiers, founded in 1885, in San Hoe, by Sebbie's great-great grandpappy) and five grand. I will spare you the details, but it turns out that our very own Flip Flop Town was a California Secessionist stronghold (they wanted Cali to join the confederacy). A group of confederate sympathizers, based in our beloved Mountains, raided the Wells Fargo wagons during that time. Even then, San Hoe and Flip Flop were at odds.

According to Currer, that is.

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I blog about life and soup, but mostly soup.