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26 September 2006
They need my mom in that courtroom.→[More:]The first time he interrupted the judge, she'd have given him "the evil eye." The second time he'd interrupted, she'd have "jerked a knot in his neck."
And they'd still be going on with the trial today.
She'd have made him sit in an antique spindle-back claw-armed chair until he could explain why what he did was wrong and apologized for it. If he sassed back more, she would have smacked his face. If he had continued to sass back, it would be yardstick time.
My mom would have fed him a steady diet of overcooked spaghetti prepared with bottled Ragu marinara. We ate that, like....every single night growing up. After a few days, you could just show Saddam a jar of Ragu and he would quiet right down. No wonder I hate pasta now!
photo by splunge
photo by TheophileEscargot
photo by Kronos_to_Earth
photo by ethylene
