My morning coffee and Juice

My morning ritual consists of waking up, starting a fire, getting Mr. Coffee busy on his preparation of the half caf – half decaf and sitting down at the PC opening CNN.com. This is generally where I get my comedy for the day. I think CNN stands for Comedy Network News.

Today this myopic purveyor of the worlds events threw me a slow soft one that had me rolling for five minutes. It was an article about a new literary piece that will hit our book stores in a few weeks. Why did a book bring such a response. Was it a clever humorous piece marveling Confederacy of the Dunces. Perhaps Gary Larson is putting away his –hommed for a while and picking up a pen,

No, this was from another type of author. One where the pen, being held by a non-fitting glove, was obviously as mighty as the sword. I am of course referring to OJ—The juice. Number 32.

I began reading this CNN bit of ‘news’ and the laughter started on the second sentence where the title “What if I did it” was pronounced. “What If I Did It”. You’ve got to be kidding me. Hitler was less obvious.

I read it a couple of times to make sure I got it right. It was true. There it was. “What If I Did It” written by OJ Simpson. My first thought after reading this wasn’t about OJ and the book but about Fred Goldman. Ron’s dad that reminds me of a fella that should be standing behind a green curtain pulling on knobs. The guy looks like the wizard. I thought, there’s a Mr. Wizard lengthy press conference just around the corner. And let down I was not.

However, this came later.

Back to The Juice. Back to “What If I Did It” published by none other than Rupert “Aspiring to be Larry Finch” Murdoch. This was too good to be true. An obvious confession written by a murderer who got away with it because he could afford more lawyers (whose stressed out souls are killing them one-by-one) than Exxon after Valdez, published by the king of all smut, with daddy waiting to do a press conference. Please be careful when laying out the three rings. Who knows what else will get folded into this one.

The article went on to describe the publishers reason for, well, publishing the book (this must be redundant). Her motive was that she ‘felt compelled to publish this to help close this chapter in our lives’. Are you kidding me. Please tell me that you are not pretending to publish this book for the greater good of man. Please be honest with me. Please don’t give me the impression that my eye won’t be stuck closed for several minutes with your blatant disregard for the truth. Come out with it. Be honest.

Please say these words to make things right, “The opportunity to publish this book was a dream come true for us since it will sell millions and we will make millions. This is just the type of sordid literature that brings the average American to their local Borders and B Dalton to ingest something that makes their humdrum life seem pretty good. I’ve already spent $12,000 on a deposit for a villa I the Caribbean this winter where I’ll count the money from sales of this book . Thanks Juice”

Then at least you can look yourself in the mirror the next day. There’s something amazingly refreshing about being open and honest about something despicable. It’s never the act that brings the guilt but the obvious attempt to sugar coat it. Your stress receptors will dance to the spin, not to the act itself.

Juice. You’re a joke. Every news conference about you is the same as you walk off the golf course signing autographs. And damn you have a big head. You like Mr. Potatoehead on those worn out legs.

Fred. I’m sorry for your loss. However, he entire country knows he did it. The man lives in a shame that is making him so much more miserable than if he were in prison. He didn’t get a way with it. Golfing doesn’t mean he got away with it.

Rupert, thanks for not letting me down. You’re the best.

Mrs. Publishing Publisher, you’re going to get a taste of what OJ eats everyday. Deception is not a good substitute for eggs and bacon. Trust me, my cholesterol is over 200 (but I’m ok since my best bud sells the bitchin’ Jarvis-7 upgrade).

Johnny Cochrane and Efleebailey. Rest your souls. You whores.

Marcia and Christopher. My guess is that it’s been tough finding a job.

Kato. You still scare me. By the way, how’s that acting career going.

Judge Ito. My guess is that you’re up to a couple Selestra and an Ambien every night. But you were cute up there.. Did you ever find a kid’s size robe that didn’t drag behind you like a wedding train.

Anyways, I guess I’ll close this chapter out in my own life. And imagine, I did it without a book to help me do so..