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For Better Or For Worse, 7/13/05

(Folks, it’s come to my attention that the scheming lawyers over at Mt. Foob are little quick on the trigger when it comes to the cease and desist letters aimed at the Webhosts of those who reproduce the strips without approval. So if you haven’t read the strip yet, click here to open it in a new window.)

Ah, youth! I remember my eighth grade graduation. I think that it involved my grandparents taking me out for ice cream. It certainly did not involve my older sister driving me around while I made out with my girlfriend in the back seat. (Not that this is a “kids today are all roadside” rant. I know for a fact that some of my junior high classmates participated in post-graduation making out. I just wasn’t one of them. I was barely in a position to do post-graduation making out in high school.)

Of course, the guy I feel really sorry for is poor ol’ Duncan. His band goes down in an inferno of clashing tweenage egos, and he doesn’t even have the arms of some 12-year-old gig to fall into for consolation. Instead, he’s just got forty-five minutes of painful, stilted conversation with Elizabeth ahead of him. Maybe he’ll make up some more Canadian jive-talk to describe the depths of the awkwardness. Your life’s in your hands, dude.

Oh, and by the way, you are reading a blog post written by … juror #8! The judge says the case won’t last more than a couple days, though, so I’m not too stressed. I think it would be interesting to blog my jury experiences as they happen, except that that would be totally illegal. Still, I’ll dish what dirt I can, once its over.