For those who may not recall, this is the 23 year old Nigerian national, who tried to light his fully loaded underpants on Christmas day last year on Northwest Airlines flight 253 from Amsterdam to Detroit. He happened to be wearing a set of boxers, or briefs, we can’t and don’t want to be any more sure of which, made of plastique, or also known by the generic designation of PETN. And for those who are not familiar, this is some pretty nasty stuff. For further information on PETN click here.

Just to bring everyone up to speed, in case you’ve been living under a rock or on another planet, this guy was stopped by other passengers on the plane seeing him use a lighter and trying to light something sticking out of his pants. I’m thinking to myself, why is it, when I came back from Canada 2 years ago, did I have to let Mr. Customs practically feel my junk in order to get on the plane, and this guy waltzes on a trans-Atlantic flight with plastique in his pants. I still have nightmares about that trip. Anyway, back to business here. In any case, he got on and nearing landing tried to light up, which was seen by other passengers, who then heroically jumped him and subdued him.

So Umar, has been charged with several nasty sounding charges, including “Attempted Use of a Weapon of Mass Destruction” and “Willful Attempt to Destroy an Aircraft” among others and is looking at probably several life sentences. What do you suppose will be his greeting upon entering the federal lockup. “Hey, is that plastique in your pants, or are you just glad to see me?” He can only hope it will be that kind.

So the joke is, he fired his lawyers today and will be representing himself in court. U.S. District Judge, Nancy Edmonds, almost pleadingly asked him if he was familiar with the US legal system, and court procedures, to which he answered, of course, NO, and he even admitted that English was not even his first language. Per Umar, “I prefer to represent myself. Any representation I have, there will always be a conflict of interest…any representation I get would present me in a way that is not in my best interest.” Amazing. Finally and it seems almost desparate, the judge assigned standby counsel for the accused to answer questions he may have during the court proceedings.

He did ask the judge a question, and I can’t figure out if it’s shrewd or stupid, “If I want to plead guilty to some counts, how would I go?” To which the judge wisely answered, that’s the reason he has standby counsel. What’s most amazing is this incredible legal system of ours that seems to really try to protect the rights of the accused.

Well, if you’ve tried to get on a plane wearing plastique pants, don’t call us. However, if you’ve gotten a ticket, or you have warrants outstanding, or there’s some criminal charges looming for which you need representation, please DO call us. Once you call, we’ll do more than standby, we’ll get right into your case and bring things to a conclusion. We’re Ticket Busters at 666-6666 and The Defenders at 333-3333. We are standing by, just waiting for your call.

So, shall our city go straight to rehab? Dr. Drew? Where were you on this one?

This poll doesn’t make any sense, we have the universe’s happiest Mayor, Oscar Goodman!

OK, the first step to rehab is admitting to the problem: Nevada residents have been hit hard with the foreclosure crisis, unemployment rate is at 13.1 percent- higher than the entire nation (9.7 percent thus far).

Our service industry is suffering tremendously because we never saved for a rainy day- no, we didn’t save for our college education. However, you can say many residents helped fund some college tuition one lap dance at-a-time. Bygones…

Nevertheless, we are still not happy.

But, don’t blame us, blame our parents. Our Governor is out having affairs and then he up and gets a divorce. Papa Obama constantly refers to us as the red-head step-child (no, not literally) and never gives us any words of encouragement- which is very necessary for a family to thrive. Recovery is far ahead, but I doubt we are unhappy.

According to the list, the unhappiest city is Huntington, West Virginia. The happiest is Boulder, Colorado.

This is why yesterday’s Super Bowl win tasted like Pecan Pie for New Orleans and for many Americans. For the first time in NFL history the Saints came up and conquered, restoring hope to a city that has been in a struggling economy for the last four years.  

 After Hurricane Katrina, Americans showed solidarity and assisted New Orleans by setting up relief funds, medical aid, rebuilding houses, and donating time to America’s city in chaos.

 New Orleans hung in there, took their handouts and did what was necessary to survive after such a devastating event. But, yesterday was different.

 The Saints sent out one big thank you to all of America and finally won back their city fair and square. No more handouts. It was symbolism at its best. Maybe even a fairytale…the stories my mom would prelude with, “remember this is only imaginary.”

 After the game, I thought… finally some good karma, some divine intervention for this city. This is a perfect scenario for an economy that has been suffering for so long. This victory is sure to give New Orleans a good boost.

 However, my cynical side kicked in, the one where people yell not another conspiracy theory! No, not the voices in my head, but the die-hard Saints’ fans and of course my friends who always cheer for the underdog.

  I started to think… was this another handout given out by Corporate America? Was this an Ode to My Mum: putting out that disclaimer at the beginning of the fairytale?

 The NFL is big business… Did Peyton Manning take one for the other team? Or, did he take one for his home town?

 And, if the Colts did lose this Bowl for the betterment of society aren’t they the real heroes or are they just gettin paid.

 Didn’t this sort of thing happen with boxing too? After a while, we pretty much knew a fight might be fixed? It’s hard to believe that we can’t just have a good ol’ fashion American Football Fairytale rather than a Corporate American Hand-Me-Down Dream.

 Or, perhaps I’m still dealing with mommy issues?