Archive for October, 2009

95% of criminal clients, by the very nature of their being, are inherently fucking dumb as hell. This is a simple concept most people can understand; then again most people do not kick in doors of homes to steal LCD TVs, drive ridiculously drunk with large quantities of marijuana in their car, rob and rape women getting off work, or get into clunky home made submarines with hundreds of kilograms of cocaine. To the average schlub, these are ideas destined to result in a net loss. As one of the lifeat160 poker degens might say, “it is negative ev to lead sherriff’s officers on a drunken high speed chase only to end up crashing headlong into a 75 year old oak tree and nearly break your neck.”

However, if criminals weren’t the dumbest fucks on the planet I wouldn’t have a job and then I’d be on http://temporaryattorney.blogspot.com and http://www.jdunderground.com a lot more. Still, you would think that most of them would realize basic fucking realities. This week presented two mindblowing examples.

Example 1: Mr. North End Boy – Mr. North End Boy is the most well mannered gangbang thug I have ever met. Admittedly I dont see a lot of non hispanic gangbangers in my line of duty (we speak Spanish and our clientele for even non criminal cases is 75% hispanic) and in fact almost all of our Black defendants are court appointed. But this guy is always glad to see me when I do jail visits. So this genius has a history of course, and this time he is caught up in a major gang prosecution. City 17 is using some complicated statutes to go after street gangs. Long story short, this guy is facing two major felonies where he could get 30+30 years if found guilty. Not to mention he also got into a fight with a cop where he severely mangled one of the guy’s limbs. Not a pretty case. Thousands of pages of discovery about his gang, the “North End Boys.” So we’re about 3 weeks out from trial, and the prosecutor pulls me aside and says “Hey look, this case sucks. Tell you what, 5 years for everything.”

My eyes nearly bug out of my head. 5 for everything is a fucking dream offer. My guys already been in two years. He should get 10 or more on the cop beatdown alone. I’m eager to tell the client that he could realistically be a free man in another 2.5. Just plead guilty to the whole thing.

Him: “But man I wasn’t in no street gang!”
Me: ” You weren’t in the North End Boys? ”
Him: “Naw man we weren’t in no gang.”
Me: “So you and the other 10 codefendants, you got these elaborate tattoos on your arms saying ‘North End Boys’ for nothing? That’s no gang?”
Him: “Naw man we just got that you know, not a street gang, it’s just, you know”
Me: “Just a geographical indicator, right?”
Him: “Yeah man one a those”
Me: “Just to remind yourselves where you live should you get lost, right?”
Him: “Yeah.”
Me: “You’re willing to go to trial and risk 60 on that?”
Him: “Man I din do nuffins. I wasnt in no street gang.”

I try in vain to explain to him for 15 more minutes that nobody gives a fuck since you have 4 prior felony convictions. You’re not getting shit expunged, but you are willing to make yourself look like a jackass just so you can argue to a jury that the “North End Boys” are just young gentlemen who happen to live in the Northern part of City 17 and not a bunch of gangbanging jackasses so you can get 30 +30. It never occurs to him that on the cop charge alone he would be pretty fucked if it was up the judge. Hell one of the codefendants pled to the gang memeber charge alone and got 11 years.

Example 2: Rape Boy – Rape Boy is a kid. Literally. This case does kinda break my evil conservative facade because this guy was literally a boy when he and some other older guys went out and well, you can guess, all throughout City 17. I feel for the guy because the prosecutors will only offer life in prison. He was the least culpable of the codefendants. Anyways we tried to have him found incompetent because he has blasted his brain with every opiate and stimulant and depressant and you name it known to man for at least 2 years prior to the incident. On a barely pubescent kid, he has to have seriously fucked his brain up.

Well after the competency review the judge found he was legally competent, but even acknowledged that there was no doubt this kid’s brain was little more than half eaten jello in the fridge. This is a clear indicator to me that if we pled open to the court, we might get a shorter term on a departure sentence basis. Trial isnt an option, this guy sung to the high heavens and waived miranda rights almost immediately right in front of his parents. Trial would be a waste of time. There’s literally no defense, and the victim is a beautiful and highly intelligent and sympathetic woman.

I go to the jail to visit him as we’re running out of time to plead since the trial is next week. I tell him that if we go to trial its going to be a lot of me sitting on my ass while the State just runs us over with damning evidence. I explain to him that if we go to trial the odds of him getting a higher sentence (guideline sentence is 24 years) up to and including life is increased. But if we open plead the judge could even sentence you as a youthful offender/juvenile (unlikely) but you are more likely to get a departure from the guidelines by accepting responsibility.
He proceeds to explain to me that any sentence might as well be death. I explain to him that if you had a choice between life in prison or 20 years, you’d be an idiot not to take the time. Then the kicker:

Me: “You get 20 years, you’ve been in 2, you’ll be out in 16 if you act good. You’ll be my age when you get out and have a life.”
Him: “I’LL BE OLD!!!”

It takes everything in me not to reach across and beat his ass. I’m not fucking old! I’m 31 for Christs sake. Yeah I’m starting to find white hairs in my goatee but still, I’m not fucking old. Anyways he still hasnt agreed to plead yet. I called his parents and we’re going to have a come to Jesus with him. His mother will beat some fucking sense into him. I hope.

If you know the name of the human debris being murdered, press one.

Our office is part of a network of attorneys who get referrals for free through some prepaid legal plan. It pays pretty reasonable for basic shit. Anyways a prior divorce client wanted a will done up. Easy peasy. So I get her instructions and set her up with an appointment for today. Review it, get two bodies to witness the signature, and ill notarize it.  30 minutes total work for 150 bucks.

But today had to be different. The boss was out, so instead of using her as witness 2, I had to use Milton. I didnt think it would be terribly difficult. I needed him to write his name, address, and sign in two places. He saw the testator sign the will. But oh no. He wouldnt sign. Not until I actually read aloud the notary affirmation and made her swear she signed it, AND made Milton swear he saw her sign it.

Milton: “You need to do the instructions. Just to be safe.”

Me: “What.”

Milton: “Do you need me to explain this to you? It isn’t hard.”

Me: (internally)

No you blithering shitstained jackass I understand I just cant fucking believe you want me to swear you in to have you tell me you saw what you just fucking saw you cheap, lying, no-good, rotten, four-flushing, low-life, snake-licking, dirt-eating, inbred, overstuffed, ignorant, blood-sucking, dog-kissing, brainless, dickless, hopeless, heartless, fat-ass, bug-eyed, stiff-legged, spotty-lipped, worm-headed sack of monkey shit! Hallelujah! Holy shit! Where’s the Tylenol?

Me: (actually) yes please explain it to me.

Milton: Er emm… You need to.. oh she did sign it.

Me: (to client) Raise your hand Miss. (she does) Do you swear or affirm that you just signed this last will and testament in front of myself, milton, and the secretary and that this is your wish? (yes)

Me: (to milton) (internally) Do you swear or affirm that I should fucking gut you from head to groin right now and wallow in your entrails you assblasting fuckwad?

Me: (to milton) Do you swear or affirm that you just heard her swear or affirm that she just signed the will in front of you me and the secretary and that you saw it and heard it?

Milton: Er ah yeah. (signs the witnesses lines in his left handed ass backwards worse than Michael J Fox shaky ass handwriting).

Secretary: (stifling many laughs into her wrist. She actually pierces skin biting her knuckle to keep quiet.)

Milton leaves, the secretary does in 20 seconds what took Milton 5 horrendous minutes, and the client just has this embarassed look on her face. Mostly because I feel like such a dipshit for having to ask Milton to do such a basic task. When I told my boss about it later (we love to share our milton tales) she told me thats why she refused to renew his notary license. Fantasies of miltoncide abound through my head.

I had to hop a Sunday plane to Jurisdiction X to attend required CLE video replays. Since I’m toiletlaw/TTT 4 lyfe I decided to stop for a cheap breakfast instead of cook one. So I stopped by the ol local golden corral for breakfast. I’ve come off the “holy shit im a lawyer” thing long ago. But if you feel like you need to check your ego somewhere, GC is the Toileteer’s best friend. 8 bucks for all the “food” you can cram in your throat. But its not just the powdered eggs and grilled grade Q pork and little milk boxes you can eat. The atmosphere, and oh yes, the conversation.

I managed to secure an “omlette” made with “eggs” (probably the same liquid egg product from mickey d) when I overheard a distinct, well spoken voice from behind utter:

“I finally had an erection, and was ready to go. She said “Im not in the mood.” ARGGGGGHHH so I had to go into the bathroom to relieve myself.”

Which was exactly what I didnt want to process clearly through my mind as I was about to bite into a sausage link. I quickly shoot a glance to see who it was who said this.

Baby Huey’s Black Goony Brother, complete with unkempt public hair like beard, plastic framed glasses, and a sore on his cheek. He had to be about 6′4, 375 pounds, and likely led his high school football team in sacks and sexual assaults. Call me racist or whatever but he was pretty white sounding for a black guy. Intrigued at how such a wall of humanity could possibly be getting some (in light of how rarely i do) I listened further.

“I was talking to her about life in the Philipines as I took her photos for my website. She gave me other photos but I dont know if I wanted to have them, the girls looked 12 or so”

oh swell, a website willy with kiddie pics. I add up the years in my head depending on if the sherriff’s get him or the feds. I dont want him either way. I’ll defend most anyone but kiddy porners tend to be a little more icky than your common drug thug gangbanging dipshit.

Also overheard by said genius:

“Kids these days can make 60-70 thousand on websites and they dont go to college. Its a shame these days cause…”

( I missed the end of this comment as I cursed my TTT law degree and wondered why I didnt just start a porn referral service. Hey Billed Hourly, you busy?)

“I was married once and my father told me that each woman is another man’s dream and you just have to accept that fact and that you’ll never get a blowjob again after marriage”

(This ponderous statement gave me pause for a moment as  I reflect on how I used to get regular bishop polishing at the beginning of dating, and how its maybe once a year if im lucky now. Suddenly the economic security of marriage is looking less like an incentive.)

“There’s a tooth in my sausage gravy”

On this note, I decided I had enough and dropped my two bucks for the service mole who took my plates. I looked back at the wilderbeast and noted that I could see his stomach distending under his wolf t shirt under the table. I could only imagine the disinfectant needed to go to those nether regions. Then I thought to myself “he must have to move that stomach to take care of himself” and then I threw up a little in my mouth.

His meth mouthed mid forties balding blond haired date said “Wow you’re so deep. Take me to the circle K for some pall malls” and turned around. She looked at me and smiled, showing her three black and yellow teeth. Somewhere in the background noise, a squinty eyed kid played a banjo while Ronny Cox plucked along.

People divorce for two reasons mostly: money troubles and fucking other people. One of the main documents you file in a divorce is a financial affidavit. It is supposed to give a snapshot to the court of how much money you got, what you spend that money on, what assets you have, and what liabilities you have. However, in practice, your objective is to convince the court you’re fucking destitute and can’t pay a damn thing to anyone and poor pitiful me.

Ive been seeing more divorces lately and its just peachy. Give me the drug dealers and rapists over these people.

So in one case the other side makes twice as much as our client. Our client scratches by so we filed a motion for temporary attorneys fees and alimony (alimony less likely) the hearing goes as expected. Her attorney grills our guy finding out that he could actually squeeze out 200 more a month or so. Then its our turn.

Q:So uh, respondent, you claim 2500 a month in expenses on animals?

A:Yes.

Q: And what do you do with these animals?

A: Ride them, show them.

Q: Ever win anything?

A: No.

Q: So they’re a hobby?

A: Yes.

Q: A hobby you claimed $35000 in business losses last year in your separate IRS filing right?

A: Uh I dont remember the amount

Q: You and my client separated on So and So date right?

A: Yes

Q: And you bought a 100K Motor Home around that same time, right?

A: Yes

Q: My client’s not on that note is he?

A: No

Q: My client’s never been in it, is that right?

A: He knew about it but he never went in it.

Q: Is it solely in your name?

A: No.

Q: Who else?

A: My mom.

Q: She helps you buy things?

A: (admits to the mother basically subsidizing almost 3 large a month in expenses she didnt claim on her fucking affidavit)

JUDGE: Why did you buy a 100K RV?

A: For my son’s mental condition. It helps him with familiar surroundings during our vacations.

JUDGE: How often is that?

A: Twice a month.

*pin drops, loud as a bomb*

/me gets to litigate rest of case on her dime.

I work with this humanoid in the office. Whereas I’m more of a “go-to hearing” monkey, everything’s kinda my responsibility guy, this loathsome wretch of a misanthrope pretty much does research and writing. On occasion we do appellate work, and its what makes his impish heart tick. Not in a cutesy little childish impish sort of way, I mean 3rd edition D and D damage resistant, acid spitting, demonic imp sort of way.

For all his intelligence, he has not heard of the word “tact.” He is, in fact, the worst person in the world. How he has escaped Keith Olbermann’s grasp I cannot possibly imagine. Trial judges have instructed my employer to specifically *never* send this fuckwit to court again. I suspect this is the main reason why:

example 1: Misdemeanor plea in front of the Hon. Machine Gun Dispo Docket.

J: JohnSmith0912345AttorneyToiletLawyerWhatAreWeGoingToDoToday

(gasp)

TL:WeveReachedAResolutionYourHonorPleadNoContest0912345Count1ReduceTo

(gasp)PossessionCount2NolleProsseAlso0913367NoContestCount1RecklessDriving

(inhale) WithHoldAdjudicationAllCountsCourtCosts6MonthsProbationDUISchoolMandatoryMinimums

J:StateAnnounceANolleProsse

Prosecutor:NolleProsseCount20912345Count1ReducedtoPossession

J: Mr. SmithPleaseRise (inhale, read off faster than the drum break in Metallica’s One) *holds up plea form* DidYouReadThisFormWithYourAttorneyIsThisYourSignatureAtTheBottomAreYouSatisfiedWithThe AdviceOfCounselDoYouWishToEnterAPleaOfNoContestDoYouUndertstandYoureGivingUp TheRightToTrialAndCallWitnessesAndTheRightToAppealTheSufficiencyOfTheEvidence

(and so on he reads the litany)

Defendant: Yes Your Honor (to all questions)

J: ISentenceYouTo.. (and so on pursuant to the agreement)

Judge Machine Gun Johnny works really fast and you have to be on your toes. I could plead 7 guys out inhis court in the time it would take to type this post.

Anyways, substitute Milton, and its more like this:

“Your Honor ehh, uhhh, I uhh, my client, wishes to uhhh oh, change his uhhhh plea.”

For a guy who has read probably 200 transcripts of a change of plea hearing he has no fucking clue. Worse yet, you have to write him a god damned script. I had a misdemeanor plea out in timbuku he was going to cover for me since I had to go across the got damn state for something. I gave him a plea form, told him the terms, and told him to knock himself out.

The boss comes to me later and asks me to give him directions. Oh sure, I thought he needed a mapquest.

No he needed step by motherfucking step directions. Like 1. Find courtroom 2. Find client 3. Say hi. 4. Review plea form, etc.

For a friggin misdemeanor. The problem was the guy violated probation with this charge so he was in el clink.

But in all seriousness I had to write the fucking litany to him. Or liturgy. Or whatever the hell it is its called when the judges question the defendant to make sure its knowing and voluntary. But this 6 foot tall cavalcade of stupid and fucking oblivious needed the whole damn thing. It took me 20 minutes of walking back and forth and back and forth to his office to answer questions a drugged up but slightly curious globus monkey could answer on their own with a modicum of effort. i could have driven to the courthouse, waited till the next morning for the docket sounding and done it my damn self in the time it took to explain to this sphinx of a man how to do a job a newly minted 200K in debt attorney 4 months out of the post graduation drunken haze could do with 3 minutes of explanation and a “go get em tiger.” I swear this job would be great if it werent for the fucking clients and god damned Milton.

The guy sounds like he had a really serious stroke at some time in his life. i’m not kidding either. I wanted to find his group insurance application to check it for congenital defects or something. He’s like Droopy the Fucking Dog except he’s a lawyer and he isn’t funny. Supporting the stroke theory is how slow he walks and he doesnt say anything. Perhaps its all the fucking instant coffee he drinks. He’s caffiened himself into thinking he’s in the movie Heavy Metal or something. But he is in reasonably good physical shape (compared to my fat ass thats not saying much but he is reasonably fit).

But thats not the worst of it. This guy likes to brag. A lot. He is the world’s biggest braggart and just doesnt realize nobody gives a flying fuck about him or what he has done or who he knows. At any given moment he could pop around the corner and I could be writing a motion or thinking about how the main character from http://www.questionablecontent.net reminds me of my hot, three input girlfriend from my early 20’s, and he will lay into me with

“Uhh Hey ToiletLawyer, do you know how so and so set the record for the four minute mile, well I once ran a 3:57 mile in Brooklyn” and off he goes nonstop.

Or better yet is when he talks about people he knows and how awesome they are. Every motherfucker he knows is like CEO of some fortune 500 company or a potentate of some Southeastern Asia Disputed Zone or something and they all went to the same boarding school and the same colleges and shit. And this guy makes less than me. He’s like 10 years older than me, has been an attorney for 13 years or so, and I bring down more than him. And thats not a lot, kids.  How someone who used to play cribbage with a retired41 year old Microsoft Executive or something is now stuck in the same shitlaw job I am, except he doesnt do half the shit I do, it boggles the mind.

I don’t want to go into any more detail about this jackoff, for fear of outing myself and him. I’ll save the hell of travelling with the guy for some other time. When I first worked at this office as a clerk while waiting for C and F to clear me, I had to share an office with him. I would put on radio on a very low level and he would just bitch to the high heavens.

Anyways if I ever see him upset about a red swingline I’m staying away from the office for a few days till the fire dies down.

So I figure I would let you in on a standard day in my life. The glory of the lawyer for all to see.

4am: Wake up with intense burning intestinal issues. Run to bathroom. Run out of toilet paper, desparately suppress a smile while using the ABA journal starring Hon. Justice Sotomayor in kabuki dress on the front page. (ive proudly never paid for an issue yet and have been getting them since 07). Crawl back to bed. Grumble about not having chipotleaway.

6am: Up again. Crick in my neck annoys me awake to the sounds of Morning in America. Stumble to the laptop. Check lawjobs, check craigslist, check indeed. Nothing. (im trying to find a job in another jurisdiction far from City 17. More on that some other day)

7am: SmuTTT.com.  There’s something a little ironic. Me, being a TTT Toileteer surfing such a site. Check for any good milf or drunken nightclub stuff. Nothing. Drudge, hotair, SomethingAwful, Tom the Temp, JD Underground, nymex, nasdaq, and huffpo while waiting for the bacon to get hot.

7:45am:  Shit Shower Shave. While rinsing and before repeating it hits me that some traffic guy I did an intake on last week had arraignment today on his case. I swore I did the waiver 2 minutes after he left the office and put it in the mail. It bugs me all the way to work.

8:40 dig around file box to find case for client i think i might have fucked up on. Find it turned around the wrong way and note the waiver copy and service date. I hate mornings where I think i fucked up but didnt.

9:00 here comes the phone calls. this morning its all my divorces all lined up and chirping at me, complaining about why family law judges can’t set hearings as quickly as criminal judges. I can get on a docket in felony with about 3 days heads up for a change of plea. Its 5-6 weeks if youre lucky in family law.

9:45 client faxes us a state order for child support and whines about it being so high. Dont have so many crotchspawn chief.

10-1230 work on various stupid shit pertaining to family law.

12:50 -1:00 inhale lunch. one of my unstated benefits is i get lunch practically for free. the downside is ive eaten the same pork bomb sandwich for months. Salami, Pepperoni, Ham, Bacon on wheat with american cheeze, deli mustard, japalenos, pickles, onions. Polyps in my colon rejoice.

1:05 – 1:20 drive to the courthouse listening to the usual talk radio spewtards.

The courthouse itself is a menagerie of every slice of life in city 17. There are the beggars sitting on the sidewalk, newspaper hawkers, the occasional bible preacher, hordes of indigents of every size shape and color, all trying to get in the same building with 3 lousy security stations. My suspenders always set them off.

Criminal court docketing is what we call a “cattle call.” 3 days a week each courtroom has a morning and afternoon docket. Each docket will have anywhere from 50 – 150 defendants on it. As an attorney its your job to get on the waiting list on each courtroom and struggle over the din to hear your name called.  Most judges dont use microphones and are real quick to drop bench warrants so unlike most attorneys i leave the pocket tetris on my cell phone off.

Today was a light docket in traffic. My delightful client was going to enter a plea on a case with some stipulations. Basically he’s a horrendous driver with a driving record as long as my arm. They had him staggering on video for field sobriety exercises, and he stated for the world to hear that he had some drinks. But! Thanks to the fact he has a medical condition they let him plead to a lesser offense. However the catch was he would either have to do probation and other things and lose his license for 10 years, or he could do jail. My client jumped at the jail time. We worked out a deal with the prosecutor that also got a charge dismissed so he wouldnt suffer enchanced penalties for being a “terrible driver” (my jurisdiction has enhanced penalties for certain types of offenders) and I went in thinking he would be there and we’d just get it done. 6 months county jail. Well, that prosecutor wasn’t there anymore. Some new guy was there. All of about 5′1. I sauntered over (i’m 6′1 and wella bit FAT so im imposing in comparison) and browbeat the prosecutor to take the same deal but 120 days. He accepts and the judge ships it. My client is actually happy. I’ll take it.

So its back to the office, and pray till 430 gets here.

And with the cardboard tube toilet paper roll baton passed on, I shall ascend and take the nom de guerre of the toiletlawyer. I read my predecessor’s contributions. He cashed out his chips after hitting a small jackpot in the law lotto. Don’t know if I would have done it, but hey more power to you. Here’s to his memory:

*flush*

So. Blogs like these are all about ego stroking. Consider the other blogs on the subtledig roster. Billed Hourly is little more than softcore porn and it works for her (or in other words she works for.. well lets leave that be). Hey I wont lie, I fapped a little. But what will my purpose be? Maybe my mighty words will inspire the jobless, tired, struggling masses of young lawyers in today’s “you’re lucky to get soup” economy. Such authority! Such grandiosity! I’ll crack a beer and celebrate how awesome I am later.

I’m going to go a little stream of consciousness with this first post, and then figure out where we’re headed later. So a little about me:

I’m a 3rd year lawyer. Graduated in the middle of my class from a TTT. In debt up to my eyeballs originally. Multiple time test taker. I got lucky to find a job in aught seven working with a micro firm doing mostly criminal defense. I cling to this job like my life depends on it, barely scraping in 45-50K. I practice in a non NY jurisdiction in “City 17.” There’s more about me but we’ll peel the layers on that onion as time goes by.

I’m going to lay out a few rules and plans for this wingding, and let’s see how you all take to it:

1. I promise to try to be funny/entertaining/provocative/informative/drunk.

2. I will throw in some anecdotal evidence about being a criminal lawyer in City 17 and its surrounding environs. Criminals can produce such comedy gold!

3. No sleuthing me. You get to be anonymous so I get to try to be as anonymous as I can.

4.  When you get time, do a little lurking at JD Underground and Tom the Temp

5. Other than that feel free to recommend topics and such.

SubtleDig here, we’ve discovered the next toiletlaw author, look for an introduction shortly.

We will be moving the toiletlaw 1.0 posts to an archive, there will be a link coming on the sidebar. Thanks for reading.