Court was fine—only two attorneys showed up this time, which is practically a miracle. The case before mine was weird: the judge was bitching out some guy for being sick, like personal illness is a criminal offense now. Welcome to the American justice system.
The judge set my next date for after December 26th. Fine. I still have to serve them anyway. Then she almost forgot she needed to recuse herself—she’s being sued, and one of the attorney’s underlings is representing her. So, new judge. Clean slate.
Except not really.
Because the judge is also assigned to my other case—me v. {D}—which is happening the day after tomorrow.
I asked if she was planning to recuse herself from that one too. I don’t need anyone in that courtroom feeling the warm-and-fuzzies for the Attorney General’s office. We’ll see.
{D}’s attorney isn’t even officially on the case yet, and they still haven’t filed an answer. She told the court she’s going to try to make me remove the warrant and police report from my filings because I attached them. Nice try.
Those aren’t personal copies—I got them through a public records request, which means I can keep them. The warrant stays. It matters, because it shows the police had cause.
And I’m hoping they’ll come to court and say what they told me directly:
They have no idea why charges were never filed. It was the first time they’d ever sent charges up twice. The Sergeant told me that himself. Twice.
That’s not normal procedure—that’s cover-your-ass territory.
Apparently {D}’s lawyer wants to add the other two men to the case. That’s not going to look great for Dave. I have no idea why she’s doing it or how the hell I’m supposed to serve {M}, who basically lives between his mom’s house and his dad’s and spends 95% of his time traveling for work.
I can’t afford to serve more than one person. Luckily, {R} still lives with his parents. But honestly, I’m not even sure what I’d sue him for—other than not stopping it.
He actually had stopped someone once, weirdly enough—it was {M}, the night we met. I was performing oral, he gagged me, and {R} told him to “watch his shit.”
So, he could intervene when he wanted to.
But is not coming to my aid illegal? I don’t know. It should be.
Since I’m about to lose my fucking job, I’ve started applying anywhere that’ll have me: law firms, doc review, research gigs—basically anything that requires a notary stamp.
I can’t type worth a damn, but I’m great at intake.
I even accidentally applied at LawyerBoy’s firm. Maybe one of those “who-you-know and who-you-blow” things will finally work out for me.
And because I’m apparently in my chaos zone, I applied to be Zach Conine’s Deputy Campaign Director—mostly just to be an asshole. Strangely enough, I’m qualified. I won’t get a call, but if I somehow did and helped get him elected AG, maybe my life would get a little easier. Wouldn’t that be poetic justice?
{D}’s in the comments again, whining about being “blacklisted” from Vermont.
Which—fun fact—was made illegal in 2018.
He’s consulting for someone, still in the system, still pinging from the same office when he visits my website. Always the same signature.
i have given him an open blog post to say what he wants we shall see if he takes me up on it now.
I’ve always said:
The only truth about {D} you can trust is that he lies.
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