Tom

Boston's two games back in the AL East, which surprises me a little. I hadn't been following closely, but judging by the last few games I'd seen, I'd have figured that by now they'd be four or five back, at least. They're 3 games out of wild card contention, though, meaning they'd be more likely to win the AL East than to beat out the ChiSox for the bastard berth. The Angels, unfortunately, are five and a half back, which puts them more or less out of playoff contention barring something unforeseen. It's a shame - Figgins has been brilliant, and Vlad's been murdering the ball lately. I'm pleasantly surprised with Detroit's rise to the top, and with the Dodgers' sprint to the top of the NL West. There's a possible Subway Series this year again, so let's keep our fingers crossed.

I dumped the $20 Premier giftcard my future sister-in-law gave me for the birthday this morning, en route to pick up birthday gifts for said future SIL and my actual sister. Among the pickups were a six Blue Point Blueberry Ale, which I've been thrilled with before, and a six of Ithaca Beer Co's Apricot Wheat, which I've never seen. It's tasty, though - it's got more flavor and roundess to it than most wheat beers because it's actually a wheat-barley blend. The apricot's nothing unexpected - very similar to the Magic Hat No. 9 flavoring, which is never a bad thing. It's a round 5.0% alcohol, which isn't anything to write home about but is solid nonetheless.

Also, I finally picked up a copy of Guns, Germs, and Steel the other night. Hopefully I'll be able to grind through that reasonably quickly, since it's supposed to be a good read and I'm trying not to be a one-trick pony.

Devil Rays 19, Yankees 6.

Sadly, Josh Paul had nothing to do with that effort, considering that neither Shields nor Kazmir was pitching, and Seth McClung was long ago sent back to Durham. (There's some chatter of calling him back up now that Scott Kazmir's shoulder is gone, but I'd imagine they'd pull someone up who's potentially, y'know, talented.) Paul's catching Shields today, and I'm anxiously awaiting another rout with YES on my screen.

I like to be disappointed, you see.

Anyway, in answer to the anonymous person who below expressed concern for my beard, I began regrowing it immediately and it's back to its normal thickness now. I feel much better. However, in the future, if you want to suggest that perhaps I've made a mistake in shaving my beard, I'd prefer you contacted me directly. I mean, considering the limited number of people who've been emailed the photos, you obviously have access to my email address, and so if there was a chance that you misinterpreted my motives in shaving my beard, it would avoid embarrassment for both of us to try to hash that out directly.

LJ drama's so high school.

By the bullets...

• It's baffling to me why people think that the thing to do when you become single involuntarily is to minimize the relationship and demonize the other person. She was a bitch? I chose her. We weren't going anywhere? Then I wouldn't have hung on. Insulting my taste and suggesting I wasted my time isn't exactly the highway to catharsis.
  
• About half an hour on the Thursday Times puzzle today. It's just such a steep curve to reliably finishing the Friday puzzle.
  
• I've been thinking about trying out for Jeopardy, but every time I start to get serious about it, I have a night like tonight where I just know absolutely nothing. Ordinarily I can get a good 80-90% of the questions right at home, but... y'know, the buzzer and all.
  
• My brother broke his hand over the eminently reasonable rage due to someone grabbing his fiancée's ass. This compelled him to: A) note that the assgrabber, a cousin of said fiancée, who was doing so at a wedding where said fiancée was in the bridal party, was disrespecting the sexual relationship [by means of referring to her repeatedly as "his woman," one can presume only because he doesn't understand the word "chattel"]; B) inform said cousin that he bore a striking resemblance to Peter Griffin of Family Guy fame; and C) find a stud in his bedroom wall, the hard way. I'm told this is sometimes referred to as a "girlfriend argument fracture."
  
• Not in front of the fractee.
  
• Futurama's a rerun tonight.
  
• My mom's trying to set me up. That deserves a damn entry of its own.

Sabres are tied 2-2 in the Stanley Cup semis, against the Carolina Hurricanes. Last night's was a particularly frustrating game because the Sabres are missing a lot of their core defensemen, and as a result we have guys on defense who are playing, well, like college players. That's not a bad thing, but having one of our strengths yoinked midway through the Stanley Cup playoffs is a big disappointment. (Frankly, at this point, the Sabres would do well to rotate their decent, experienced defensemen and play four forwards instead of the standard 3-2 formation. But then, there's a reason I'm not a hockey coach.)

Still possible for the Sabres to take it in 6, though. We'll need to hammer down, start hitting the Canes' forwards, and get our defensemen comfortable with blocking shots before they get to Ryan Miller.

Confidential to ESPN: Listen, I like horse racing. I do. But women's softball is on the Deuce, the Angels are playing untelevised, and anyone who follows the early races on Derby Day is at a simulcast location. So can I please see Guerrero DHing and Tim Salmon in the field for some reason?

Speaking of, it's terrible rooting for a basement-dwelling team out of the region. I happen to be a Devil Rays fan. Why? Because it's less trendy than being a Cubs fan, mainly. Also, the Devil Rays have Josh Paul, who is decidedly mediocre and currently my favorite player. Last year he made the Angels' playoff roster merely for existing, since both Molina brothers were catching for LA, and they both usually got pinch-run late in the game. One game, Bengie was DHing and Jose was catching, but got pinch-run, and Paul got put in. He dropped a third strike and failed to tag AJ Pierzynski, setting in motion the White Sox' win over the Angels and their subsequent World Series victory.

Having seen this, the Angels traded Josh Paul to the Devil Rays, where he's backing up the decidedly above-average Toby Hall and acting as personal catcher for the decidedly mediocre Seth McClung. For $475,000 a year.

Tell me how a man can't admire that.

---

SABRES WIN IN OT!

... off a muff, a wiff, and a failure to properly defend. Man, I felt like I was watching bantams again.

Before this game, I'd decided to go Sabres in 3.66. (When the sweep became apparent at the end of Game 4 period 2, the Senators would just fail to show.) However, having seen this one, it's really going to depend on the officiating and whether we can keep Ryan Miller fresh in goal. Frankly, he took a beating last night. The next game isn't till Monday, so hopefully he'll be rested up and his head will be right. Depending how he plays on Monday, in my mind, Martin Biron's going to have to make an appearance on either Wednesday or Thursday. Hopefully Miller will do us proud on Monday and play well, but if he gets his bell rung or if we have another thirteen-goal-game, the kid's just going to be whipped.

Damn it, why did we trade Mika Norenen?

Seriously, the series is very, very winnable. It might take until Game 6, when the Sabres are back in Buffalo. I don't think Miller can withstand this kind of onslaught, though, and stay in sweep position. I mean, shit, the kid's a rookie.

So, Sabres in 6.

So, it's been an interesting couple of weeks.

Those of you who may have been following - which, I guess, would just be strikinglyalert, since I don't think any other Dozo types read the LJ - may have been slightly surprised that the SBA presidential election was won by a bright, easily-flustered woman rather than a large, bearded and easy-to-get-along-with man. For reasons I'd rather not get into, I found myself unable to take the election that was all but mine, and had to withdraw. At this point, it's not looking like I'll be back at Cardozo.

Long story short, two years at UB (in accordance with the ABA's sixty-credit policy for transfers) is cheaper than another year at Cardozo. Other than that, there's just not much to it.

For now I'm back in Buffalo. We'll see what happens from here.

---

I've been drinking this evening, which is most likely why I updated. I drank one of the 25-ouncers of Three Philosophers, a lovely lambic-style from Brewery Ommegang in Cooperstown that reminds me of myself. At 9.8% abv, it's certainly a heavyweight, and once I've gotten through one or two of them, I can't help but be Professor Tom.

I also finished off a 25-ouncer of Apple Ephemere, one of the seasonal fruit beers from God's favorite brewery, Unibroue. I've had the Apricot Ephemere before at Swift's Hibernian Lounge, and it was swell. The Apple's not bad, but I've developed a bit of a taste for well-made cider like the Woodchuck Granny Smith, so it seems to pale in comparison.

For the record, the Dubliner white cheddar that I had with it went much, much better with the Three Philosophers. With the Ephemere, it left sort of a medicinal clove taste that I wasn't thrilled with.

---

Read the ex-ho's journal tonight. (Ho's a misstatement, considering that she posited herself an ethical virgin but was in fact a drama queen for whom virginity was an extra bargaining chip.) Interestingly, it doesn't mention the boy she was engaging in muchas smoochas with at Barrister's Ball. It also doesn't list me among the people she kissed at midnight last New Year's in her "Year in Review" quiz, which I find mildly interesting. I expected I'd at least rate a "Friend A, Friend B, Friend C, Friend D, and someone else who didn't deserve it" or something.

Funny how people's lives go on, isn't it?

---

But I digress....

I just received the following criticism of the Hobbies & Interests section of my resume:

you're incredibly boring. it's like somebody who's listing things they think people would want them to be interested in, but these things really are the things you do in your spare time.


(For the record, I'm aware of the problems with a H&I section, but it's useful to try to humanize me because I'm so damn academic otherwise.)

Lately, I keep getting these absolutely mindbending headaches. Of course, when I worried aloud about a brain tumor, it was overheard by a friend of mine whose brother does have a brain tumor. Ah, the joys of having to appear sensitive.

I finished my petition for SBA President Friday night, and it's now in the appropriate box. Who'da thunk it? Tom finishes his petition at a bar. I know, you're shocked. It was, however, the standard Friday at 5 at Bar None, except that about ten non-regulars showed up, which greatly expanded the pool. At least, until all of them left after one beer. ("This beer's warm!" "Uh, it's Bar None. It's not like you came here for the single-malt.")

... but I digress. My main competition in the election consists of two guys, BB and MK. BB had previously told me he had no intention of running for President, but appears to have changed his mind. Frankly, although either of them would do a competent job as President, I really am hoping they both run. They have the same friends, you see.

Plus, y'know, I'd do better. But it's hard to run on a platform of "Excuse me, but isn't it clear?"

Something about that whole "arrogance" thing.

Well, this isn't something I'm looking forward to. This evening, my buddy Josh and I are going to be teaching a lesson at The Door. Generally I get very excited about that, like last week when Sarah H. and I did the general Supreme Court lesson, or the week before when we did the "What's a Constitution?" lesson. This one, however, was spurred on by the SCOTUS lesson, where we got a lot of questions about constitutionality, framed through... the South Dakota Abortion Law.

Man, do I not relish the opportunity to sit around for an hour chatting about abortion.

But I digress. I'm trying to temper it a little, because after all, it is Law Talk At The Door, and so we really should be discussing the law. I'm reusing the "simplified Bill of Rights" handout we used for the Constitution lesson, and one of the activities is going to be figuring out which of the Bill of Rights provisions touch on abortion. It's also going to be a less than rigorous lesson - it's going to basically be, "Vent your feelings, then we'll do a few activities, and then we'll give you donuts and go home."

Either way, I'll be glad when it's done.

Thank the lord, blessed be Mordecai, et cetera. I finally finished the note I've been writing for the Public Law, Policy and Ethics Journal. Not to get too snoozeworthy, but it deals with Doe v. Mann, 415 F.3d 1038 (9th. Cir. 2005), an August 2005 case that dealt with two pieces of federal Indian legislation, with the result that they're both essentially ineffective and the state of California can do whatever it wants with Indian children domiciled on Indian land. Counterintuitive, and therefore wrong. Clearly.

Or something.

Anyways, it's 36 pages plus two lines, with 196 footnotes. I assume both of those will come up a bit if it gets selected for publication, which we all pray it will. It's now in the able hands of the PLPEJ editorial board, which probably has no intention of publishing it. I think, though, that it would be a really good choice to put it in there - we're a young journal, and we could stand to tick on some searches from students out west who are studying Indian law.

Anyways, tonight's Purim, so I'll probably stop by the school and try to grab some fine Jewish food and such. Should be a fun time.

Insert shameless plugs for scotus_news and mypolitibang, communities consisting of Supreme Court news and my political ramblings, respectively.

Zed had been bothering me to start a politiblog for a while. I set it up as a community in the hopes that I could get either him or powerplay to balance off my shamelessly correct and well-thought-out discussions with mindlessly right-leaning drivel. Sadly, as soon as I actually took his advice, Zed lost interest, so we'll see how it develops.

I'm waiting to see if I get a full-blown jury summons. I got a questionnaire a week or two ago in the mail, and answered it by phone. I assume I qualified, since I've never been convicted of a felony or anything, and frankly I'd like to serve on a jury once before I graduate from law school (since that'll all but disqualify me in the future). I assume being in law school will as well, but...

Where do you go to school?
Yeshiva University.
Which campus?
Brookdale Center.

[NOTE: Tom does not actually plan on misleading lawyers if he gets a jury summons.]

I made oxtail stew and stacked enchiladas this week. Separately, of course. I had some dried red chilis around, and so I simmered them and made enchilada sauce, and did a filling with shredded pork, carmelized onions and jack cheese. Good shit. The oxtail stew is also nice - West Indian style, thickened with yams and brutally hot. I'm enjoying it quite a bit. Unfortunately, oxtail is ridiculously expensive around here. Flank steak, too. Who told everyone that cheap cuts are some of the best to work with?

Other than that, nothing too terribly exciting's been going on. One of my friends is on the wagon for the rest of the semester.

Aren't 1Ls adorable?

I picked up this month's Men's Health and GQ on consecutive days last week, in the wake of the alleged blizzard that was only 27 inches and didn't close anything but a couple of schools. (I took some solace in the fact that I couldn't get coffee at my usual place, but that was only because they got shut down for apparent health code violations. And even then, I only had to go a block out of my way.)

Blizzards always amuse me, and they help me maintain this blue-collar image that I wasn't trying to cultivate but somehow ended up with anyway. (I suppose it has something to do with the 19-inch neck, beard and flannel.) It's easy to just rumble into school in sneakers while everyone's struggling to stand in their boots, with icicles hanging off my mustache, stomp on the carpet and totally no-sell the fact that there are gale-force winds blowing champagne powder all over. Meanwhile, everyone else panics, the guys at The Big Enchilada are using a hose to spray the slush out from the front of the store (seriously), and I'm able to singlehandedly push cars free from the snowdrifts, prompting them to say thanks and me to spend a few bucks at Japonica for decent sushi because I've been subsisting on crockpot stew, beer, and street-stand falafel for the past few days.

But I digress.

Men's Health was decently amusing this month. There was a pretty good recipe for turkey chili that I'll have to fire up when I finish my current batch of beef stew. GQ, meanwhile, was a little more interesting. There was an article by a chronic shoplifter who denies being a klepto but claims merely to enjoy stealing shit, and one about "new-breed steakhouses." You know, the usual GQ nonsense. There was also an article entitled "Joe Biden Can't Shut Up." Unfortunately, it apparently meant this as a compliment. Without getting sidetracked, I think Biden's great to have on the floor, but he'd make a bad presidential candidate.

Karaoked twice this week, including one time when a Greek LLM candidate decided I was his brother shortly before being removed for finding his way into the kitchen of the place where we were singing. The second time, at Izu, I had my feathers fluffed by a couple of girls who whispered to one of my friends that I was really good. Must have been drunk, since all I can do is match pitch, and I don't have a particularly strong voice.

Anyways, duty calls. Hope to get another update in soon.

Happy President's Day.

Been a while since I updated. The visit to Albuquerque went beautifully - the Older Woman and I are doing well. It's a matter of figuring out where we're going to end up, though, which is tough. If everything I've been half-offered in Lea County works out, I'd be more than willing to do time as an ADA in rural New Mexico if it means living where rent is cheap and Erica's happy. (Plus, the salary would qualify me for decent LRAP.) On the other hand, if she ends up in New York, there might be bigger problems. The Manhattan DA's office is just so ridiculously competitive that I won't be working there, and I'm worried about whether I can even end up working in the Bronx or Staten Island. Jobs are competitive.

Everyone wants my the SBA's money. Grr.

Ah well. I'll survive. And maybe update slightly more frequently.

Erica sent me a care package consisting entirely of $40 worth of Pocky.

God, she rocks.

This entry brought to you by PandaCam.

It's been an interesting week. Fall Bash very nearly got cancelled on Thursday. (For the majority of you who don't go to school with me, Fall Bash is a drinking-oriented event that we schedule this time each year for the sake of breaking the pre-finals tension that's going on with everyone. We rent out a club and set up an open bar.) The club we'd set up cancelled at the last minute (5:30 on the day of an 8 PM event), after assuring us several times that they'd be able to open up. They didn't have liability insurance, apparently.

After trying to shunt us to Bar 13, we ended up getting a place on the West Side Highway that was pretty good. The open bar wasn't solid - we didn't have every liquor available, for example, and only one bartender - but for a place on such short notice, it was pretty solid, especially after the first hour when everyone got some booze in them and quit bitching. ("No, we won't be reimbursing you for the cab you didn't have to take. Go to hell.")

I did, however, end up holding the hair of a woman who is not my girlfriend while she vomited. This did not amuse me.

It's a rough time of year, though. There's a lot of tension running through pretty much everything, and so people are oversensitive. I'm also getting to a place I haven't been in a while - thinking of myself as The Building That Doesn't Burn. I got castigated for making a lose-lose decision the other day. Without getting into too much detail, a friend of mine looked like she was going to repeat a mistake she'd made, and I texted her to remind her of that. Apparently, I didn't choose my words quite carefully enough, because I now think she's an idiot, and I had to listen to the stomach-turning "No matter how drunk I get I never lose control" speech.

FYI: "It's something I wanted to do anyway" is nothing but being impulsive when you're drunk and rationalizing it after the fact. I don't know if people who think that way think that other people just lose control of themselves as soon as they smell beer, but everyone retains the ability to make choices up through, say, the five-beer-an-hour mark. You're not special. You become uninhibited like everyone else does, and if you're claiming that justifies things you did, fine. But that doesn't mean you were acting the same way you'd act when you were sober.

I also don't appreciate the implication that I become piss-ass drunk and lose my ability to function, since - get this! - your tolerance isn't what you think it is, I've been drinking longer than you have, and I outweigh you two-to-one. I don't call you on it, but maybe I should.

But I digress.

I'm a calm, reasonable person. I wasn't always, and occasionally I do visibly lose control, though not to the degree that most people do (and certainly not to the degree that my intimate circle of friends does). I have goals, I pursue them, and I find ways to make up for potholes and missed turns along the way. I let people rely on me, I give them a shoulder to cry on, and when they ask, I give them competent, well-reasoned advice.

Nobody gives a shit, because the news is about buildings that catch on fire.

And this is frustrating. When, occasionally, I do catch on fire, I get put through the ringer for it. It's not fair, especially considering everything I do for the people around me. It's not that I'm the first person in my family to get anything past a bachelors degree (yeah, my sister has a masters in ceramic engineering. She's a secretary. It doesn't count.), it's that my grades aren't what they should be. It's not that I'm the first in the family to actually make something of myself, it's that being academic isn't an "honest job" like unloading trucks. My cousin failed a year of pharmacy school, for god's sake, and he's still lionized by everyone... but I don't own a car, so there must be something wrong with me. (I'm. In. Manhattan.) I don't know if I'm just setting myself up for a bigger fall by not being more impulsive or what, but the crap has got to stop.

Oh, and by the way: Do you know what the difference is between the Supreme Court and a regular court?
- The Supreme Court comes with cheddar and bacon bits.

"Mr. Tom is here." - Kristina's doorman, announcing my arrival and misunderstanding my name.

The trip to Hoboken was largely uneventful, although I did find out that the grocery store next to Kristina's building doesn't sell beer. Is that a New Jersey thing? No alcohol except from a liquor store? Ah well. She told me where she hid the good bourbon, so I was happy.

I went as a redneck, with a mismatched denim jacket and jeans, a beater, my old painting shoes and the beer-box cowboy hat my dad made for me. The hat was the hit of the party, apparently. Frankly, I'm mostly embarrassed by it, because it was a sincere gift, but that's neither here nor there.

There was a guy there in a British imperial officer's outfit. He showed up with a bottle of Tanqueray 10 gin (nice!) and proceeded to stay in character all night. Yes, even after the Indian guy showed up. (That was rather awkward.) The boyfriend was also clearly feeling threatened, which was adorable. He was a little fratty and became I Love You Man fairly early on, which I'm always uncomfortable with. I get the impression from piecing together what Kristina's told me that he considers me a threat not in the traditional sense but in the greener-grass sense - like, he didn't want to go to Barrister's with her last year, and so she kind of dangled me over his head.

And ended up breaking up with her. Erg.

So, the overcompensation ("This is a great guy. A fucking great guy. I love this guy." "... this is the second time I've ever met him.") was just a tad awkward and uncomfortable.

---

I'm considering changing my mind on the take-home-final option for my Jurisprudence class. It struck me the other day that it might be nice to write a paper instead.

It's past midsemester.

I think I'm insane.

Interesting get-together on Friday. I did James Carville's Paul Begala's Boys' French Toast on Friday night, featuring two loaves of Union Square Greenmarket challah and a quad batch of the batter (because it's better when it's soggy - ahh, how many things that applies to). A bunch of the first-years showed up, as well as several of my friends. The actual dinner portion of the evening was pretty bad - none of the very talkative people showed, and so we had Michelle and her friend sitting there silent, one of the neighbors sitting there silent, me teasing Sharon and forgetting that not everyone else is aware of the give-and-take that we have (and thus me looking like a giant bipedal penis), Lorraine getting half-cocked on a bottle of cider, and Missy and her boyfriend sitting there like we were all preventing the on-getting of it. After dinner, Chris, said boyfriend, asked if I knew where Sahara East, the hookah bar, was. As I didn't know, they skipped merrily off to their room to look it up on the internet.

"If they're not back in ten minutes, let's head to Reservoir." - Lorraine
"Let's just go now." - Me

Much to my surprise, however, they did show back up, leading to an interesting series of events including a trip to the hookah bar and an attempt to get into Coyote Ugly, which was stymied by the fact that the boyfriend is only 20. This, of course, led to a trip to El Cantinero ("Where even if you're not allowed in the bar, we'll sell you a beer"), and then a trip to 119, and then a trip back to the building where there were ill-advised drinking games.

I didn't know people in their mid-20s still drank Crystal Light and vodka.

At one point, Missy accused me of groping Lorraine, which I mainly attributed to the fact that Missy was seriously in the mood and so was seeing things. However, in the discussion that followed, mention was made of the fact that she's very close to someone who's been the subject of several friended entries in this journal, and that she would like to see Kristina-the-Puppy and I "grow up, get married and have kids together." Where she got this from, I have no idea.

I mean, shit. I don't even think she wants kids. *cough*

---

It's been an extremely drunken several weeks. Once October's over, I think I'll be in better shape, but there was a birthday party every Saturday from the first weekend of October. Yesterday was the first one this month where I didn't have plans. I did, however, go to the 1L post-Elements bar night, since I picked the venue out. I felt a little skeezy, since I was the only non-1L there, but luckily I'm younger than most of them anyway. One of my fellow Senators got a little extra-friendly with me, which was uncomfortable, particularly after a small group of us headed to Off the Wagon to continue the madness with dollar beers and seven-dollar pitchers. (Yes, I was wandering around topping everyone off all night, and yes, I also drank from the pitcher. Just to get it out of the way.)

I have three Halloween parties - one in Hoboken (I'm organizing a flotilla to travel with me), one at some guy's apartment that some other guy invited me along to, and one LLM party at a different guy's apartment that I'm going to because I'm an honorary GLS member or something. I still have no idea what I'm doing costumewise. I might have to reprise last year's ("Fat, bearded Hunter S. Thompson").

Oh, speaking of, I've grown the beard out from Amish Chinstrap to Full Beard. I've had a request for photos which I'll take care of soon, but I'll be trimming back in the very, very near future.

Anyway, this is getting dangerously long. Here's hoping I'll be able to make more entries in the near future.

TomIofIV: I have half a keg in my office.
TomIofIV: I'm just sitting here in silent appreciation of how much better this is than college.
biggmouth1133: hahahaha

The SBA Constitution passed. I celebrated with a few Blue Point IPAs at Reservoir, where I was accosted by a group of transfer students. Apparently, no one's paying attention to them - which makes sense, since the Tulane kids are like transfers, only cooler. I've gotten to know one of them fairly well, and a couple of them have sort of adopted me as their Senator, which is interesting now but will inevitably become annoying.

---

Someone's asking around for my LiveJournal name. I hope I've privated everything I need to private. And shit, even the stuff that's private isn't that interesting. Tom lacks intrigue.

---

Not that I want to be too frat boy about this, but I was so hung over on Sunday morning that it wasn't even funny. All I remember is a haze of karaoke and jello shots, and a Russian girl telling me that she found the construction of the sentence "I want to prosecute" absolutely hilarious.

---

Interesting dream the other night. I was a prosecutor and was in charge of prosecuting a contempt charge against Justice Antonin "Nino" Scalia, who had (at a New York County Supreme Court trial) told a judge to go fuck himself. Through a variety of procedural errors and frivolous arguments, this case made it all the way to the Supreme Court of the United States. Much of the dream centred on getting Nino to recuse himself from hearing the case.

The only other notable part of the dream was the introduction of the Justices. They all had theme music. Most of them were brought out to "Eye of the Tiger," complete with strobes and such. However, being Chief Justice, John Roberts had his own theme music - Johnny Cash's "Folsom Prison Blues." He also wore a cowboy hat and high-fived everyone on his way to the centre seat.

I need to cut back on my sugar intake.