Notices by M.S. Bellows, Jr. (msbellows@c.im), page 6

Today I hope John Roberts decides to clean out his nightstand drawer and notices that the small bottle of lube he and his wife use every time they make love has a 2021 expiration date, and it's still 2/3 full, and it wasn't a very big bottle to start with.

My meanest #IHopeJohnRoberts to date, for good reason:

This morning I hope John Roberts can't find any matched pairs of socks because his Black housekeeper hid one sock from every pair before she left yesterday, and then that on his way to work this morning he stopped at a drive-through for coffee and his Black barista put seven pink packets of saccharine in it instead of two sugars and then the Supreme Court building's Black doorman noticed he had dog slobber on his pants and didn't tell him and then today he goes out for lunch and the Black cook spits in his gumbo and then his waiter does too and this evening on his way home he stops for a cocktail with a friend and his Black bartender slyly pisses just a little in his Manhattan and the white ally cocktail waitress adds a cherry she dropped on the floor and things like this keep happening all day today and every single other day for the rest of his privileged, racist, godforsaken life, right up to the very end when his immigrant Latina ICU nurse will see he has soiled himself in bed and just ignores it and leaves him festering in his own shit for three more hours and that's how he passes away.

John Roberts’ effort to gut the Voting Rights Act is complete | CNN Politics https://www.cnn.com/2026/04/30/politics/john-roberts-voting-rights-act-race-protections

I hope John Roberts has a blister on one heel today because he didn't get to wear his better socks yesterday.

I hope John Roberts drives over a pothole on his way to work this morning and instantly a giant crack appears in his windshield.

I hope John Roberts wakes in the middle of the night tonight with the realization that, because of him, the British Royal Family has more accountability than the President of the United States, and before he can even haul himself out of bed pukes on his duvet in spontaneous, visceral repulsion at his own execrable betrayal of the American principles he pretends to live by.

I hope John Roberts has to leave work early because of an incredibly intense migraine focused exactly behind his right eye.

I hope one of John Roberts' adult kids watched last night's Colbert and was shocked to learn how CBS obeyed the tyrant in advance by censoring the planned show, and so picked up the phone and said, "Dad, I love you, but I'm really angry and disappointed in you for empowering these assholes, and I think it's best if we don't talk for a while."

I hope John Roberts lost track of the days over the weekend and fell asleep last night thinking it was still Saturday and slept in this morning and was relaxing in his easy chair with a cup of coffee when the phone rang with a frantic clerk wondering where the hell he was.

I hope last night John Roberts was visited by the ghosts of Thurgood Marshall, William F. Brennan, and Louis Brandeis, and they all told him that unlike Scrooge there was no hope of salvation for him as Antonin Scalia, wrapped in chains and half-buried in burning feces, nodded sad confirmation.

I hope John Roberts stopped at the library today eager to borrow a copy of John Grisham's latest novel but they told him the waitlist was 12 weeks long.

I hope John Roberts doesn't get invited to Leonard Leo's birthday party even though Leo is who asked the Supreme Court to strike down Trump's tariffs, and that Roberts feels sad and lonely about that.

I hope John Roberts needs to call the Mexican embassy for some information about a travel visa for a future vacation and the automated system says for instructions in English press 2 and he presses 2 because he doesn't speak Spanish and then the voice continues in Spanish but with a British accent.

(Reference: https://apnews.com/article/washington-dol-spanish-accent-ai-3a1b8438a5674c07242a8d48c057d5a3 )

I hope John Roberts wore his favorite old Led Zeppelin concert tee to bed last night like pajamas and this morning when he was taking it off it tore really badly right across Robert Plant's face.

I hope the five Supreme Court justices who didn't attend the State of the Union last night instead went out for bowling and cocktails and had a really nice time and in hindsight John Roberts feels like he made the wrong choice about how to spend his evening.

I hope John Roberts' mail carrier intentionally fails to deliver his mail today.

Supreme Court rules USPS cannot be sued for undelivered mail in 5-4 decision | Fox News https://www.foxnews.com/us/postal-service-cant-sued-intentionally-not-delivering-mail-supreme-court-rules-5-4-split

(Digression: obscene decisions like this are why, in this thread, I'm making it a practice to curse U.S. Supreme Court Chief Justice John Roberts every single day: https://apnews.com/article/supreme-court-transgender-students-california-cca311ae39d267f31c1392a0bcf780cd

I've been a lawyer for nearly four decades. I've been PROUD to be a lawyer! On the day I graduated from law school I was privileged to shake hands with our commencement speaker, the outstanding liberal justice William F. Brennan. Lawyers and jurists like Brennan have been responsible for much of the social progress America slowly made through most of the 20th century, and I foolishly thought that that progress would mostly continue.

John Roberts represents the betrayal of that proud tradition. More broadly, John Roberts represents everything that is wrong with privilege and whiteness and toxic maleness and greed. So yes, I curse John Roberts, in small ways and large, every single fucking day. Because he has betrayed a noble calling, and the instant there's someone in the Oval Office who won't make Eileen Cannon chief justice, my final curse will be a general, passive wish for John Roberts to die painfully and slowly (but not too slowly).

But until then I curse him creatively, trying to bring a little humor to my rage.)

I hope John Roberts throws up a little in his mouth today.

I hope John Roberts' knee hurts really badly for no obvious reason so he limps everywhere he walks today and he has no idea why but damn it *really* hurts.

I hope John Roberts goes out for Middle Eastern food tonight and his waiter secretly spits in his hummus.

I hope John Roberts' shoelace breaks, and not at home where he could just change shoes. And that those shoes have fairly short laces anyway, and that it breaks right at the eyelet where the knot will get in the way.