“Ha! I can do this grand-jurying thing with my eyes shut! In fact, I think I will!”
Q: How many grand jurors does it take to change a light bulb?
A: The bulb is burned out, but they’ve ruled it doesn’t need to be changed
Q: Why did the grand jury cross the road?
A: To get to the wrong conclusion
Q: How can a grand jury tell that an elephant has been in their fridge?
A: Those giant footprints in the peanut butter could belong to some other animal, so we have no idea
Q: Why do firemen wear red suspenders?
A: The grand jury has heard insufficient testimony proving that suspenders are a thing
Q: Knock, knock!
A: Who’s there?
Q: Grand jury.
A: We’re not home.
Q: Oh, okay, bye.
Q: What’s black and white and red all over?
A: A grand jury with a checkerboard
Q: Why is a raven like a grand jury?
A: Both invoke sadness, grief, and parody
Q: Why is a grand jury like a writing desk?
A: You can use both to write whatever narrative you want
(If you think these are terrible jokes, by all means, let us speak of things that are like a terrible joke…)
Midlife Crisis Crossover! 
Knock knock
Who’s there?
Manslaughter
What’s manslaughter?
Congratulations, you’re now on the grand jury panel!
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I’m smirking ruefully at this. Perfect addition.
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What is really going on in this country?
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I wish I had the tiniest clue. I wish more people had clues. I wish clues could be mailed to everyone in America and we could work together to piece together the puzzle, and then, whatever is going on here, figure out how to do the opposite of that.
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Whatever it is, it’s ugly. I lived in Detroit until I was 13 and saw a LOT OF STUFF. Nothing really has changed.
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I think this qualifies for tragi-comedy.
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Aptly put. When these started popping into my head, I have to admit they didn’t improve my mood…
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