When I heard that Rod Blagojevich escaped conviction on all but one measly charge, my life changed forever. There are so, so many things I'll finally be able to get off my chest now that I know the system won't throw the book at a famous politician with enough money for good lawyers. Oh, American judicial system, I love you! I love the way you rely on juries full of people who weren't smart or busy enough to get out of sitting in that stupid box all day. I love how you reward the rich for having huge sums of disposable income they can throw at crack legal teams of unscrupulous careerists. I love how you ignore crimes that are commonly known as having factually happened just because of wormy little technicalities. God bless the USA and its corrupt, broken, mostly meaningless sense of justice!
Now that I can get away with being an unethical monster in public, I've decided I'm going to base my next book on my many criminal exploits since the tender age of 16. I may even break up the story into a multi-volume narrative. I haven't decided if I'm going to divide it up based on time periods or types of crime. Really, I could go either way. My past is more checkered than the last flag at a NASCAR rally. You name it, I've done it or been accessory to it. Murder, extortion, bribery, theft, drug trafficking, impersonating police, arson, kidnapping, all different kinds of fraud... the list just goes on. Here's a preview of some of my greatest hits that will be covered in detail in the books.
When I was 19 I ran genetically modified, hormone-addled pigs across the US/Mexico border and sold them to shifty Nebraskan farmers for a mint. The FDA not only hadn't yet approved a majority of the materials and processes used to make the pigs so large, aggressive and flavorful, it had actually formally banned the chemical cocktail that dramatically increased the sodium content of their brains for the purpose of increased bacon production. On our last run, my driver Ted shot a U.S. Marshall and left him writhing on the side of the road. I never did find out if he survived.
At the age of 27 I conspired to rig the American Kennel Club Dog Show using a complex system of pay-offs, threats and animal poisoning. I took the lives a prize-winning poodle, a Yorkie who moonlighted as a cancer therapy dog at a children's hospital and a Doberman descended from a line of war dogs used to sabotage Nazi efforts in Hungary. I was paid handsomely for my efforts and now I have an in with a dog lover in the Senate whose career I could easily ruin with this information.
On my 30th birthday I beat up a homeless man in St. Louis as a way to sooth the rage resulting from the unacceptable pork chop I was served at dinner. The experience filled me with such an intense feeling of invulnerability that I robbed a jewelry store and set it on fire.
I am, as of March 2000 and to this day, the street racing queen of Melbourne, Australia.
Several months ago at an offshore oil platform I began flicking lit matches around randomly because I was bored and wanted the foreman to take me back to my hotel. It didn't end well.
Those are just small highlights of my exploits as a hardened criminal sociopath. With the justice system on my side (me being famous and rich), I'll probably never do time for any of it.
