The Belly of the Beast

Well things have changed dramatically sense Uncle Eddy's visit to jury duty. Mot only are knitting needles now verboten, but the once highly coveted Jig saw puzzles have been jammed unceremoniously into a corner. They have been irrevocably mixed together. One can no longer tell the pieces of The Bare Foot Boy from Van Gogh's Sunflowers.
The herd of people waiting to be assigned their fate must now read, eat, play hand held games,talk too loudly on their cell phones, with the fast of foot and lucky few who are willing to fork over a few dollars placing themselves in front of the four the working conputers, able to surf the web. However the hunt and peck typist is shit out of luck, as it seems that the jurors ahead of me have in their manic search for a relief from the boredom either worn off the letters from the keys, or have maliciously scratched the letters off.

More latter, though I must say, the tequilla at lunch very much helped my outlook torward the rest of the day.

So I didn't get around to sketching during this stint at Jury Duty, but I did dig out a few from a previous trip.