God bless Newsweek magazine for running a cover story on the final season of Friends this past week. After all, I owe everything I’ve got to Ross, Joey, Monicle and whatever the hell those other sleazy nogoodniks call themselves. Hell, I have a trendy new haircut, don’t I? It’s what the French call, “Le Stupid layers around Le Stupid Round Face.” So I was born with an elliptical facial structure that suits the Rachel haircut perfectly! So sue me! And sue me they did.

Patriot that I am, I showed up in the Orange County courtroom one fine September morning draped in a parka of stars and stripes. But apparently, Judge Lance Ito (famous for his role in the O.J. Simpson Trial of the Century) is no expert on the topic of fine fashion. I guess good taste just isn’t something you learn in law school, now is it? You can’t wear a black robe with brown loafers, weirdo! That’s just bad manners altogether.

So, apparently my Patriotic Parka and layered ‘do clashed with Judge Ito’s tame and very, very un-vogue persona. I felt like inoffensive oil being forced to deal with water, who’s always complaining about the bloating and the cramping and the gas. My God, the gas. You know the type. All I really ever wanted was a steamy night of flirtation with vinegar. Maybe we could have made some raspberry vinaigrette, draped ourselves over a nest of baby greens, if you know what I mean. Am I right, girls? Who’s with me?

So, out of the blue, Lance informs me that I’m guilty of copyright infringement. For what, I ask? For looking carefree and delightful while sporting my fancy new ‘do. It’s hardly a crime to look good in the United States. Or so I thought. If there was an official law against workin’ it, well then Bette Midler would be serving time, Dan Rather would be on strict house arrest and Jay-Z would be getting the chair! I guess Jennifer Aniston, two-bit-hussy that she is, just couldn’t handle the competition. Newsflash! We’re in a capitalist society here, Jen. More like Jennifer Anis-sucks, anyway. Could I be anymore right? I hope her and that nancy-boy Ross get married, have to move to a low-income community and have rebellious children who end up having to work harder than the average middle-class citizen to amount to the goals of the corporate elite. Eat that, Rachel. You should never have left that young and good-looking fellow who you thought knocked you up sideways.

So, I’m out on bail now. Terrific. The Good Lord blessed me with a face the shape of a seasoned plum, and hair so thick and silky that I’m often mistaken for a Morgan horse. What does the judicial system do with my gifts? They squander them for the sake of buying a new statue with the naked lady holding weights, with the blindfolds and handcuffs and the whatnot. Those sick bastards. Spirit of Justice, my ass. John Ashcroft was right when he said to “cover dat shit up.” That’s just indecent.