Pitiful

Imagine my surprise when I discovered a voicemail on my phone this morning from Calculating Bitch. It's true, I was blushing after listening to the voicemail. However, my embarrassment was not due to the voicemail's effect on me, but rather because I was embarrassed for her.

The voicemail was the worst prank call I have ever been a party to, so bad I am hesitant to even label it a prank call because it would be an insult to bored tweens everywhere. The joke was lame even by middle school standards (an extremely vanilla "I have a secret crush on you!") and she couldn't even deliver the line without laughing. Poor planning, and even worse execution. I expect better from a Law Bitch.

So what is to blame for such a cringeworthy "prank" call? I'm sure Calculating will try and blame the alcohol, but let's face it, alcohol is the only true muse of a quality prank call. I think the true culprit for such a dearth of creativity is none other than that bland, byzantine bastion of legal knowledge that she slavishly devotes herself to. I'm speaking of none other than Westlaw.

So what's the moral of the story? I think it's readily apparent: Westlaw causes brain damage. If you insist on self-destructing, use something a little less potent, like smoking crack or snorting some crank; at least then your friends will be entertained.

4 comments:

Calculating Bitch said...

If you would have listened to the message better you would have known that it wasn't me that called.

Yes, it may have been my phone, but it was also my house. Your secret crush was dared (during a drunken game of Truth or Dare last night) to come out of the closet.

BTW, Truth or Dare is a much different game when you are in your 20s versus when you are 14. Truth is a lot more fun then Dare at this point in the game...

John Roberts said...

Well, whatever. My point that Westlaw causes brain damage still stands.

Butterflyfish said...

You just want to freak out the Westlaw stalkers.

Christian said...

I thought I was his secret crush! Im so crushed to hear I have competition. (the word "secret" is of course relative here...)