Too Drunk To F***

Marty's social life has taken a positive turn mainly because he had the balls to be direct and forthright regarding a certain financial advisor (thanks to Dubois, the Napolean of Dating Strategies), and now his dates in the near future are tax deductible! But we all know you don't come here to read about chocalate unicorns and happy sugar teddy bears and dancing pixie fairies and rainbow gumdrops. So since Marty has found out that Angry Yellow is listed as a Law Talking Person Blog on other links, he's providing some legal lessons Marty has learned from dumb ass opposing counsel in the past few months:

1. If you decide that you want to scam a homeowners association with a bogus discrimination claim followed up by some frivolous litigation, you probably don't want to have a current default $3.9 million civil judgment against your ass for securities fraud as well as an SEC lawyer gunning after you like Tom Cruise gunning after a believable beard.

2. If you're a lawyer, you probably don't want to accept the above-identified person as a client. You definitely don't want to sign a federal complaint containing wholesale (and easily discoverable because they're part of the public record) factual misrepresentations, especially since by signing such a complaint, you are attesting under the law that the facts contained in the complaint are true.

3. Wanna have a flurry of motions to disqualify you and your firm as trial counsel? Why don't you go ahead and negotiate a deal that falls apart and then represent the client in the ensuing litigation so that you can serve as both a material witness and trial counsel!!! And to further screw over the client, make harmful representations during the negotiation that your client did not authorize and are completely lacking in any factual basis!!!

4. If you see that a co-defendant has lost its motion for summary judgment because it failed to follow a California Rule of Court, and your own summary judgment fails to follow that same California Rule of Court but your hearing isn't for another month, maybe you want to correct your summary judgment so you follow that California Rule of Court. I'm just sayinz, bro.

A Little Less Conversation - A Second Interlude

And who says Marty isn't into Asian women . . . 

OK, I know, enough with the politics. So I'll take a quick break and revert to the Marty we all know and love before I finish off my l'il Dean-like rant. Anyway, it seems like summer is the time all the yellow sistas be jonesin' for the Starkster. For the most part, it's been women from Singapore, South Korea and China that hallucinate a "Get Green Card Here" sign above my profile in Match.com. This summer tho', so far it's been Americanized cuties from within a 15 mile radius of Casa de Stark.

I used to dread that giddy feeling with short bursts of hyperactivity and lightheadedness that comes with the beginning of possibility--I knew that it was all an illusion, nothing would come of it. I knew that I would come crashing down and I would be back to the mundane. Kinda like going to a five star restaurant, but instead of anticipating the meal, thinking about how the meal is all gonna come out in a steamy dump of a turd two hours later.

Obviously, I was a fucking idiot.

But there are signs that I'm not going to be in the short bus for much too long. Like I'm confident that, even though my future financial advisor kept saying how she tries to make all her clients her friends, it was her way of attempting to be cool and nonchalant while being totally into yours truly. Why? Because I doubt financial advisors spend an hour and a half drinking a small coffee out in the sun with their clients after finishing with the business portion of the meeting--especially if the financial advisor usually spends until 10pm in her office, and the ninety minutes worth of slowly nursing coffee will push back that 10pm time to 11:30 pm. I also doubt financial advisors, even slightly tipsy ones in martini bars, let potential clients put their arm around their waists when they first meet them.

So this is a long roundabout Marty Stark way of saying, yeah, I'm cautiously optimistic.

By the by, Financial Chick kind of looks like the above chica.

Juice (Know the Ledge) - An Interlude

By Any Means Necessary 

1. Apparently, we Asians just don't know how to take a joke. I mean, so what if the 49ers former P.R. head honcho put out training video which found humor in a Chinese guy saying "balls", or Abercrombie and Fitch thought a tee-shirt with slanty-eyed caricatures saying "Two Wongs Do Make A Right" would appeal the Asians? Gosh, it's just harmless fun--which begs the question why the 49ers didn't have a Jeff Garcia impersonator in wetback clothes saying "we don't need no stinkin' completed passes" or Abercrombie and Fitch didn't put out a Sambo line of t-shirts with Al Jolson prints emblazened with "WE LUV DEM FRIED CHICKEN". Unfortunately, we are viewed as harmless, so when we speak up, we're viewed as whiners. I betcha if we went around carrying baseball bats beating the shit out of any asshole who starts quoting Long Duck Dong, we'd be viewed differently. Asians need a Malcom X.

2. See, when Democrats like Senator Durbin use Nazi analogies to describe Gitmo, he should be censured, but when Republicans use Nazi analogies to describe Democrats, stem cell research, abortion, taxes and the environment, they should be given a complete free pass by the media.

3. Yes, Senator Byrd was a member of the KKK in his past, and he has since repudiated and apologized for his membership. For those of God's Own Party who try to use this as an example of their own moral superiority in race relations (oh look, we never had a Klan member in our ranks), hmmmm, I wonder how many of those 20 Senators who did not sign or co-sponsor the anti-lynching resolution were Republican?

4. I'm fine with those folks in Kansas teaching creationism, "intelligent design" or whatever piece of crap spin term they're calling fundamentalist dogma these days--so long as they teach all theories of "intelligent design", including but not limited to the universe originated from a lotus flower from the navel of a dude woken from a serpent (Hinduism), the universe originated from a golden egg (Taoism), and my personal favorite, the universe is a big fuck up by a male god--whose creation is also a fuck up (Gnostic Christianity). Let's see if those folks would push so hard for an intelligent design curriculum then.

American Idiot

This Is Billy Bob 

So I usually don't write about politics because I'm afraid if I get started, I won't stop and this blog will get transformed into yet another political blog in an over-inundated blogosphere of pundits. Anyway, there are already folks over at sites such as Daily Kos who do a great job of intelligently and vehemently advocating the progressive cause. But once in a while, something sticks in my craw, and since this blog is a self-serving indulgent diary/rant/exercise in writing, I gotta write what I gotta write, even if it is yet another political diatribe preaching to the choir. So hence this rant featuring Marty Stark's patented long-winded making a point by tortured analogy. Just warning you--for those not politically inclined, go ahead and daydream about cute widdle kitty cats. This rant was inspired by a diary I read on dailykos on why a red-stated voted for Bush despite taking up the keister by the Repos economic policies. The voter said God would take care of his financial woes and Iraq, so he had to vote for the truly God Fearing candidate.

Still there? OK. So my view on religion can be summed up by a joke my dad told me when I was a kid (which is weird because my dad leans conservative and, since English isn't his first language, his humor tends toward bad puns--but I digress). Now granted, I embellished the following joke a bit because my dad isn't that well versed in American culture, but it retains the same message. Ready? Here we go!

So there was this guy named Billy Bob who lived in a small, dusty Texas town. Billy Bob was a God fearing man of the Old Testament variety, believing in a wrathful God and salvation by Grace alone, not by deeds. He did consider himself to be rather progressive for a God fearing man, tolerating his Christ-killing neighbor from Jew York and the many cursed descendents of Ham that had started moving into the town. Instead of trying to drive them out, he spread the Good News of fire and brimstone to try to save their souls.

Now one day, there was a tropical storm coming from the Gulf, a nasty one reminiscent of the original flood. Even that fair and balanced channel Fox News was telling folks to get out, so Billy Bob knew this wasn't some pansy liberal claptrap to get the God fearing out of town and let the descendents of Ham loot the place while the good folk were out. Anyway, Billy Bob gets this idea to show the people of his town the power of Faith. He decides to stay in the town while the storm hits, and he knows that he will come to no harm because Billy Bob has Faith that the Lord will save such a God fearing soul. He has so much faith that he's taken the spark plugs out of his car and thrown them out in his backyard somewhere so he can't leave. Once the townsfolk come back after the storm, they'll see Billy Bob and come to their senses and realize the Power of the Lord and what he bestows on believers.

So Billy Bob sits on his porch, watching the black sheets of rain washing down the streets, smiling knowing that God has graced him. A line of cars move past his home, and his neighbor, who is from Jew York and isn't to bad for a Christ killer, sees him as he's rushing out of his house to get the hell out.

"Hey Billy Bob, you OK? You need to leave!" Jew York says.

"Nah, I'm fine here. God will take care of me."

"Look, I don't think God wants you to sit on your ass and drown. C'mon Billy Bob, pack some clothes and I'll give you a ride to the shelter."

"No offense, but only those who have accepted Jesus as their Lord and Savior can divine God's will. Why don't you stay with me? I can baptize you and then you'll see what God will do for the faithful."

"Uh, thanks for the offer but no thanks. Good luck with that whole salvation thing."

So off his neighbor went. Now the rain kept pouring, and the town being situated on dust and all, well, wouldn't you know it but a flood started pouring through the streets in a couple of hours. Billy Bob ain't a fool, so he up he went to his second floor to watch the happenin's from his bedroom with his coon huntin' dog. Then he saw the sheriff coming down the newly formed river of brown water in a small motor boat. Now the sheriff, he's a descendent of Ham, the son Noah had cursed for being such a lazy shiftless good for nuthin' monkey of a man who had fallen asleep on the Ark when he was supposed to be keeping watch. Noah cursed Ham and his descendants by placing the mark of skin as dark as night on them. Now the descendants of Ham are in the government and whatnot, that's surely a sign that the Tribulations are near.

"Hey Billy Bob! What're you still doing here? You gotta get out! C'mon, get on the boat and we'll head to higher ground!"

"I'm afraid I can't do that sheriff. Y'see, God has a plan for me."

"God wants you to get your crazy ass drowned? I don't think so. Get into the boat, or at least let me get your dog outta here. No need gettin' a dog killed on account of your stubborness."

"Ain't stubborness, it's Faith." But the 'coon dog jumped out of the window, swam over to the boat. Well, the dog is just a dumb animal with no soul to save, so Billy Bob couldn't get too angry about that.

"Looks like you ain't got even the sense that god gave a dog there Billy Bob. I can't wait for you, I got other trapped people who actually do want to get out to help. I hope you come to your senses before we head out."

But Billy Bob's Faith prevailed. The flooding got so bad within the hour that Billy Bob had to get on the roof. Now Billy Bob still had no doubts that God would save him. And lo and behold, the rain had stopped. Then a chopper flew over Bolly Bob's roof, and he heard the voice of the mayor from a bullhorn. Now the mayor was educated in one of the secular humanist schools out on the East Coast, and was trying to push those secular ways onto the town--what with talk about keeping creationism and prayer out of schools.

"Billy Bob!!! We're dropping a rope ladder. You better get your ass up here. We can't wait too long. The eye of the storm is gonna pass mighty quick."

"Well then you just go on ahead. If you had Faith like me, you'd be all right. It's obvious that science can't save you."

"OK Billy Bob. This ain't every third Thursday of the month, so this ain't no town hall meeting. Not exactly the right time to get into this. We gotta go find other people who want to be saved before the storm come back."

Not more than fifteen minutes after the chopper left, the rain started pouring down again. The water just kept on gettin' higher and higher. Not even as the water rushed over his face did Billy Bob's Faith weaken. "Maybe this is the Rapture and God is taking me home" was his last living thought . . .

So when Billy Bob found himself in front of Saint Peter, he said "Oh Saint Peter, I just knew the Rapture was coming. I just feel bad for all those who will have to suffer through the Tribulation"

Saint Peter looked irked and said, "Rapture, Tribulation? Yeah, that's not on the schedule quite yet."

Billy Bob looked puzzled, and not just a little pissed off. After all, he had given his life to worshipping God and preaching the Good News, and here he was and it was not even Rapture. "Well, Saint Peter, if I can humbly ask this, why did the Lord forsake me even though I have been a virtuous man?"

Saint Peter sighed, and gave a cross look to Billy Bob. "Look you dumbass hick, God tried to save you THREE times--what do you think your neighbor, the sheriff and the mayor were trying to do?"

Thank you, thank you, I shall be here all the week!

It's Marty Stark, South Park style. 

From A Million Miles

The ocean is inside us--a single percent of salt mixed in with the water and oxygen containing hormones and neurotransmitters and enzymes, life within life. I've been trying to delude myself that I've been on dry land for the last several months, basking in the sun, watching all the dark things revealed under some blue sky and dying in the light.

I've been working dog hours and earning more money. I've been flirting with attractive Korean women in martini bars and the kewpie doll cute file clerk with a button nose at work. For the most part, this has kept me on even keel, distracted me from the oncoming tides.

But there are days like today, where anger from work, anger at fuck ups and incompetence--mundane anger but anger nonetheless--drains me so that when I arrive home, I can't keep my eyes on the sky and my body away from the tide. And as the ocean starts rising again, on days like today, I grab onto the past, hold it too tightly, using it not as hope for the future or something warm on a cold night, but instead as something I yearn for now. I want that Korean financial advisor with a coy smile at the end of the night to give me a call now instead of treating that memory simply for what it was--good conversation with little probability of leading to anything else, exercising my innate charm that had been so quiet with Her. I want to so take back the missteps with CNN Asia woman and have her sitting on my lap again instead of learning my lessons and moving on.

So tonight, I will hold my breath, shiver and hope that the tide recedes soon. And tomorrow, I will work my dog hours and earn more money and flirt more and live more and hope that is enough for now.