J. Alan Cooper. Monsignor J. Alan Cooper . . . M.D.
Or perhaps I could take a page from Idi Amin's book and call myself "Field Marshall Doctor J. Alan Cooper Dada." I've always liked that idea and I have always thought that Amin was underrated as far as 20th Century Third World dictators go. He was like the Gary Hogeboom of tinpot dictators. He didn't have the industrial base to cause a world war like Hitler or scare generations of Americans like Stalin. He couldn't even make a name for himself in killing huge numbers of his own people, like Mao and the Khmer Rouge did, as Uganda just wasn't populous enough to do anything like that. I mean, what's an aspiring Third World tyrant to do?
Well, what Amin lacked in brains and competence, he made up for in enthusiasm. He thought to himself it's just not enough to kill people any more; no, if you want to get noticed nowadays, you have to have a gimmick, so I won't just kill people, I'll wear makeup! No, no, KISS is already doing that. Wait a minute, I know! I won't just kill people, I'll EAT THEM too! So, armed with his secret police (and a fork) he set about his task with aplomb. That, and he dressed the part, too. I mean, he liked to strut around in his dapper uniform, wearing his Top Gun-style Ray-Bans. What's not to like, right? He looked like a fat version of the leader of the Riffs in The Warriors. I mean, once you get past the whole EATING PEOPLE thing, he wasn't so bad.
Okay, boy, that was a long and weird tangent, even for me. Guys, thank you all for the birthday greetings. I went out and had a nice dinner last night with a friend named Dawn who is a secretary for a lawyer I do a lot of work against. Yes, yes, I know. He's on the other side of the aisle from me (he represents employees in their comp claims) but he's still my best friend in this city. Anyway, it was nice. Not thrilling (i.e., I didn't get laid, nor did I try to) but nice.
I've got a bit of a quandry to pose to y'all but it'll take me time to write it all out. Robbie knows a bit of the story from yesterday, but not all of it. I'll write it all out later.
Well, what Amin lacked in brains and competence, he made up for in enthusiasm. He thought to himself it's just not enough to kill people any more; no, if you want to get noticed nowadays, you have to have a gimmick, so I won't just kill people, I'll wear makeup! No, no, KISS is already doing that. Wait a minute, I know! I won't just kill people, I'll EAT THEM too! So, armed with his secret police (and a fork) he set about his task with aplomb. That, and he dressed the part, too. I mean, he liked to strut around in his dapper uniform, wearing his Top Gun-style Ray-Bans. What's not to like, right? He looked like a fat version of the leader of the Riffs in The Warriors. I mean, once you get past the whole EATING PEOPLE thing, he wasn't so bad.
Okay, boy, that was a long and weird tangent, even for me. Guys, thank you all for the birthday greetings. I went out and had a nice dinner last night with a friend named Dawn who is a secretary for a lawyer I do a lot of work against. Yes, yes, I know. He's on the other side of the aisle from me (he represents employees in their comp claims) but he's still my best friend in this city. Anyway, it was nice. Not thrilling (i.e., I didn't get laid, nor did I try to) but nice.
I've got a bit of a quandry to pose to y'all but it'll take me time to write it all out. Robbie knows a bit of the story from yesterday, but not all of it. I'll write it all out later.
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