P.S.

Hey Newspapers:

You can stop including that last paragraph in all of the Anna Nicole stories about Daniel's death, that she married Howard Marshall.

WE ALL FUCKING KNOW.

It's like "Daniel died of a drug overdose. His mom married a billionaire old guy and is fighting over the will." "Anna Nicole and Howard K. Stern married. Anna Nicole married a billionaire old guy and is fighting over the will." "Anna Nicole's Bahamian counsel quit. Anna Nicole married a billionaire old guy and is fighting over the will."

We KNOW. EVERYONE KNOWS. Anyone who didn't know before, KNOWS, and even THEY are sick of reading that last paragraph.

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. Is that the way you're trying to give credence to this otherwise fluff Celebrity Gossip story? By throwing in a last paragraph about how this is ultimately about a major will contest, which somehow makes it newsworthy?

Because seriously -- this is a MAJOR celebrity coup, and we're all eating it up, and you know what? It's a GREAT STORY. A SAD story, but it's a great story. NONE of us are denying it! The timing, the post-death activities... it's all kooky! Let it go. It's okay. We don't have to feel guilty in indulging in this public dysfunctional family. It's nuts! So, go ahead. Write your stories, I PROMISE you, EVERYONE is paying attention to this story, and that, my friends, makes it NEWS. So publish your news! We public will come greedily forward to devour every single crumb.

Daniel's coffin was transported from a van to a hearse, you say? It was mahogany, you say? Wailing and screaming was reported from the funeral tent, you say? There's not a soul that doesn't speak English that's not hanging on every word written about this story, so... you can be comfotable, YES, we ALL KNOW how Anna Nicole got famous. She married an old billionaire and starred in Playboy. And later on Guess. And later on Trimspa. She also had a reality television show.

We got it.

We know who she is, and we know why we're following the story - because it's just too good not to. So drop the "real news" routine. You don't have to sell us on this shit, and no one has to pretend it's doing anything other than appealing to our basest instincts. And given that there's so much horror in the world today, (and not to make light of the death of a human being - especially one raised in so chaotic an envionment) or another family's grief -- but it's just too much "Holy shit" to really be believable, and therefore, in a sick, sick way, it's entertainment.

So, stop trying to enlighten us, and let us enjoy the show.

Oh, good.

Oh, good.

I'm back to putting down 3/4 of a bottle of wine after work.

Like many of us.

It's the unspoken bond...that's sometimes shared in another moment of intoxication. That we come home after a grueling and exhausting day of dealing with papers and papers and facts and papers and rules and papers...and warm ourselves up a bowl of Udon noodle soup in a biodegradeable bowl...

Shun any sort of date plans by saying that we're sick, rescheduling some poor schmoe that we don't really want to have drinks with, and don't really want to hook up with, because we've lost our MoJo...

Crack a bottle of wine and watch The Office.

I'm hitting a plateau in my job. I'm bored. And it lacks any type of drama. And I can't concentrate. Or focus. All I want to do is play on the Internet. There's no sense of urgency.

The other day, I was falling asleep...and I realized... maybe Personal Injury wouldn't be so bad, after all.

I'd get to go to hearings a lot. And because I'd be representing Plaintiffs, I wouldn't have to go against Lippman who I heard screaming at a new associate for United Auto the other day (I had met the yellee once at a barbecue.)

I want more excitement. I'm super bored. Trials are few and far between. While I sort of hate talking to judges, at least it makes me feel alive. And I've been pretty successful so far. I usually get what I want...granted the motions I argue and the stuff I do isn't usually THAT contentious...

But... drafting Settlements and Releases and Mortgages and Promissory Notes is sort of draining my lifeblood.

And I want more money. I'm competent. I just need to grow the balls to ask for a raise. I need to tell myself I deserve it.

Because, I think I do. Now I'm going to finish this glass of wine, finish The Office, and steel myself for another day tomorrow... of copying Volumes Three through Five of the pleadings in the Cases we just got. Copying things in the Attorney Services Room of the Clerks office... is my own personal idea of hell.

And so I drink my wine.

And plan on wearing something comfortable tomorrow. For a looong day of standing.

Ugh.