Welcome to my Miley Cyrus-like Comedy Monologue (think southern, bubbly, free-floating, stream of consciousness, and probably not completely thought through).
I feel obligated to explain the lost month of June 2011.
Sorry I haven’t talked with ya’ll lately. I’ve been too caught up in the Casey Anthony trial.
That poor girl. Losing her baby, after all those years of abuse by her father and brother. It must have been so tough on her. I’d say she deserved to party for a month–so she could legitimately get a Bella Vita (good life in Italian) tattoo. Cause everybody knows that commemorative tattoos have totally valid enduring value–even when your baby gets tragically, accidentally drowned, and then put in a trash bag, secured over by duct tape, and some creepy meter reader pokes a stick in a skull’s eye-socket, and you end up prison for the rest of your life.
The disembodied voice of a sensible producer–“NOT so fast Cowgirl! Have you ever heard of reasonable doubt?”
No. I’ve got this…
What was Casey thinking back in 2008? Well, maybe it went somethin’ like this…
“Hmmm, my folks won’t keep the baby….and my friends are going clubbin’….and I wanna go. I’ll do the seemingly responsible thing…and still be the party-girl. Come on, Caylee let’s go for a ride.
Hey baby, time to take your vitamins (Xanax). It’ll make you feel better.
30 minutes later, “Dang, this isn’t working fast enough. This baby needs a boost. Hey, I’ve got this chloroform. That’ll work.
Now, there we go, Caylee’s sleeping like a baby. That’s such a cute nest I made for her in the trunk. Oh, but what if she wakes up. Ah, that’s what duct tape is for. It’ll help keep her from screaming. She’ll rest better. It’ll only be for a coupla hours.
Ah, time to dance….
Gimme another shot of Patron. Woohoo!
Several hours later, lemme check on my baby. OMG!!!
What happened? What am I gonna do?
First, lemme get a trash bag. OMG I don’t have a shovel. Wait, the neighbors do. Lemme ask them.
I just need some time to figure all this out. In the meantime, I’ll just leave her in the trunk. Nobody will look there.
Casey’s friends over the next few days/weeks, “Hey we had fun with ya at the club the other night…we’re going out tonight, wanna come?” Casey, “Sure, see ya there. I’ve got a new tattoo I wanna show you.”
Man, this car’s starting to smell. I’d better find a spot here somewhere to put her. Hmmm, there is that woodline around the corner. Nobody would ever look there. Lemme put Caylee’s blanket in with her. She’d want it that way.
Florida native wisdom says you need to double wrap the body—that’s what we always did with our poor-old dead dogs, cause the nearby woodlines can get swampy. You always want your baby to have the best treatment–even under the worst circumstances. Right ya’ll?
“Life is tough. It’s even tougher if you’re stupid” (so said John Wayne in Sands of Iwo Jima). And true-dat to both parts if you’re trying to get a seat in the gallery for the Casey Anthony trial. That nexus of tough and stupid embodied the demographic of folks attending the event. They were so aggressive that the authorities had to literally rewrite the rules for the public attending trials in Florida.
To those who got to sit in on the trial, on behalf of the rest of us, I salute ya. And because y’all represented all of us, I’ll just acknowledge that–“We rock~!” Don’t we ya’ll? We fight for our spot in line. It’s the American way. And so is being able to text wherever we want. That’s what freedom is–freedom to text/tweet my way thru the new Transformers. My BFF NEEDs to know that Transformers 3 Rocks Ya’ll. ReTweet Requested.
In 2036, at the end of the news, when they do that,”25 years ago today…” thing, they’ll hearken back the days of the Casey Anthony trial…..and we’ll be able to say, “I was there.” Not that I was literally there, but I did have the i-Phone App. And in many ways that was even better. I got to control my own climate while not missing a second of the proceedings. Bathroom break, no problem. Thanks Steve Jobs!
So, there ya go. It’s been a great month, June 2011, the year of the non-stop Casey Anthony Trial coverage. Will July compete? How can it? The defense has rested, closing statements are in, and we’re just waiting on the jury.
Poor Casey. Benvenuto a la penal system en Florida—la nostra casa e la tua casa. Bella Vita indeed.
The now more insistent, sensible Producer, “Wait Cowgirl, stop the presses. The glove didn’t fit. The Jury had to acquit.”
Ok, ya’ll? Did ya see that? Casey didn’t murder her baby? Is she free yet? Can we get her on the show? We can share some K2 and hit the clubs. Let’s get this done, ya’ll!
—————-The fine print————————
This was a joke. It was NOT in any way affiliated with Miley Cyrus. For the Record, my only familiarity with her comes from her SNL and American Idol appearances. The Comedy Monologue notion is more an homage to the SNL parody of Miley Cyrus. In those cases (Miley and SNL’s parody of her), I’m sure both are professionally, quite well-thought out. My version here, is a tongue in cheek statement of the world in which we live. I meant no harm…to Miley, Steve Jobs, Casey Anthony or anyone else–including me, your part-time, wannabe comedian. Just trying to lighten urrybody up. K’ ya’ll?
Besides, I thought it was “pretty cool”….even if it was in very poor taste (so said Napolean’s Corporal’s review). What else did you expect it to be? We’re talking about a baby that ended up in a trash bag in a trunk. Bella Vita gone horribly wrong!
Special thanks to B-Squared-B, of Straight2Vault Productions–for his take on the Casey/Caylee Anthony scenario. It’s as plausible as anything else put out there. JDPF