– WhyisThisManHere, Arizona
The long lost love child of Vincent Price and Colonel Sanders took the stand today in the agonizing scuttlebuttsurrebuttal phase of the Jodi Arias trial. The psychology “diplomate” crawled out of a crypt deep within Jodi’s fog to testify ALL DAY to his credentials, his education… and the fact that he never talked to defendant Stabby Einstein, or bothered to read a single police report. Nonetheless, Dracula’s butler says he no-likey young whipper-snapper Janeen DeMarte’s diagnosis of BPD, and (more importantly), he’s totally on Team Jenny for Homecoming Queen.
Stabby’s a real trooper; she doesn’t let a little thing like sedatives keep her from the all-important task of staring down the jury. Even when semi-comatose, the dedicated demon still glares while jotting down personal reminders to swallow all of their souls by the end of the day.
Wilmott’s mysterious bald spot has reappeared. Methinks Stabby threw another temper tantrum this morning while Jenny was dressing her in a Seinfeld inspired puffy-sleeved white shirt (“I don’t wanna be a pirate!!”) Or perhaps last night’s scuttlebuttsurrebuttal cram session was so stressful, she and Heavy D got into a b*tchy slapfest and he took out a chunk of her hair.
Geffner, who apparently couldn’t finish dying his mustache to match his hair color in time for his court appearance, told the jury he determined Stabby didn’t lie or distort her answers on DeMarte’s psychological tests. He also concluded the tests did not indicate an aggressive, hostile, or violent personality, but rather a traumatized lass suffering from PTSD. What a nice bedtime story for Nana Arias, who snoozed through the entire proceedings.
Goofball Geffner is a great physical comedian. The professional expert witness couldn’t operate the touch screen computer in the witness box without repeated detailed instructions from Jenny. Then the lip-licking crypt keeper spilled his water (twice!) all over the place, and sheepishly giggled while wiping up his mess. Then to top it all off, he burped and/or farted on the stand. Derrrrrp!
We get it, Jenny. You don’t like DeMarte. But your relentless smear campaign will not win you any votes for Homecoming Queen. You didn’t need to pry open the mausoleum door and drag this weirdo out of his coffin to reiterate by belch everything you’ve already argued. Get over it already.
It gets even better: Since Geffner has a “general familiarity” with brains, Jenny thought she’d try and kill two birds with one stone and use Geffner’s zero experience with autopsies to refute Medical Examiner Horne’s testimony about the gunshot coming last. The shrink testified that in his untrained, unexperienced and totally worthless opinion, Travis could have ambulated and spoken after being shot in the face. Because that’s how lazy stoners present a super professional scuttlebuttsurrebuttal.
Juan must have guzzled several 5-Hour-Energy bottles at lunch, because an amped up Martinez shot right out of the cannon to expose Geffner as nothing but a hired gun “paid to say” whatever Team Stabby demands. He listed a litany of cases in Geffner’s past in which his credibility was totally shattered by presiding trial judges. Dracula’s sassy butler just smiled obnoxiously and giggled inappropriately at the jury as Juan questioned him.
Strawberry margaritas make Jenny’s constant objections and struts to the bench a lot easier for me to deal with.
Then Martinez served up a beatdown to end all beatdowns over Geffner’s totally uninformed assessment of Travis’ brain injury. The smell of scorched toast permeated the courtroom- nay, the world- as he established the psychologist has zero background in ballistics, gunshots to the brain, or just plain old autopsies. Good work, Jenny. You NAILED it.
So I guess everyone is gonna get into their jammies and roll out their sleeping bags on the courtroom floor tonight. Stabby will either sleep handcuffed to the table leg, or get her own locked tent, complete with a magic password to gain entry. Luckily, Jenny remembered to bring matching Jem & the Hologram nightgowns for them to wear. Hopefully Nurmi remembered his leopard print Snuggie.
Lawdy, lawdy, now we have to get through Whiny Wilmott’s re-direct. Heaven help us. Even my dog is groaning…