Fetish Friday: It’s Still Rape.

We’re gonna have a serious Fetish Friday this month, it’s going on today and tomorrow, and we’re gonna have one for an important reason. This is the “very special episode” of the Fetish Friday, you know, the one where all the readers become addicted to a stimulant in order to study, or where the neighbor takes pictures of the bos, or where a main character makes a new friend who’s being abused at home. If you want the full effect of this post, I suggest you find some heart-warming late-80’s, early-90’s background music to play over it as you read, because while there may be a couple chuckles, and while there may be a few off color comments, the fact is today’s post is deadly fucking serious.

To that end, let me tell you right now: If discussions of rape are going to trigger you, you need to stop reading and go find something else to do. It’s cool, I get it, we’ll still be around next week and you’re not going to miss anything big.  But it’s probably best you don’t read today’s post.

Because today? Today you little shitstains, I’m gonna talk about rape and consent.

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An Offer They Can’t Refuse: Getting Clients to Pay, Part 2

Alright, so Monday I talked about all the reasons I hate it when a client doesn’t pay their bill. The main reason, as you might have gleaned, is because I provide a service, like every attorney out there, which requires me to use my knowledge, time, resources, and professional expertise to help people that can barely count to 11 even if they take off their pants first. This is not an easy task, and frequently leads me to question my life choices.

Today we’re gonna forge the fuck forward by talking about the four options frequently focused on when a client refuses to pay, and since it’ll be a long one, let’s just go right into this shit.

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An Offer They Can’t Refuse: Getting Clients to Pay, Part 1

Let’s take a minute here and talk about the clients that stiff you on the bill. I’ve talked about this stuff tangentially in the past, but then it was always sort of in the vein of “how to avoid getting stiffed when picking your client.” Now? Now I want to talk about it in a little different of a light. I want to talk about what you do when a client is stiffing your ass on the invoices, and what options you may have.

First, though, let me say this post was supposed to go up last week. However, I used a hypothetical in the first version of all of this shit that greatly resembled a situation that arose when a client tried to fucking stiff me on my bill. So, discretion being the better part of valor, and realizing that people may take a hypothetical as being about them, I took that post out of the fucking rotation on the site. Better to keep my license and lose a post, you know?

That’s all resolved now, though, so I feel free to go on my mini-rampage about the assholes who come to you in tears begging you to help, and then afterwards decide that your effort was, for some fucking reason, sub-par and not deserving of compensation despite the fact you hit them a home run on a case that was based around shit like “My dog drank soapy water and shit out bubbles, therefore I am entitled to $1,000,000,000 and a new car.”

So, buckle the fuck in buddy, cause over the next two days we’re gonna go full bore on the bastards that think they can steal from me.  Today is part 1, which should help you shitty motherfuckers understand why a lawyer stiffed on their bill has a goddamn right to take it personally.

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Freaky Friday: Lawyers Are Deadly

Let’s just be honest, the law does not attract the most savory of professionals.  I mean, by and large, lawyers are learned professionals who exist to help other people with their legal problems, and do so as a manner of calling. However, we have a disproportionate number of fucking psychopaths lurking in our profession. I mean…a really fucking disproportionate number of psychopaths.  As one attorney told a researcher:

 “Deep inside me there’s a serial killer lurking somewhere. But I keep him amused with cocaine, Formula One, booty calls, and coruscating cross-examination.”

Isn’t that just comforting? Just those two sentences shatter the image of the local lawyer as being the stalwart Atticus Finch and makes them more of the Patrick Bateman type of person in your head, doesn’t it? But that’s ridiculous. One man does not a profession speak for. I mean, how many lawyers could really be off their goddamn rockers, right? It’s not like you’re going to go into your local attorney’s office and immediately get chased down the hallway by some 40-ish lawyer with a bad combover wearing a Brooks Brothers suit and wielding a motherfucking axe, right?

….Say, do you like Huey Lewis and the News?

Well let me put on this album and tell you about the blood on the hands of two particular members of our profession in this month’s Freaky Friday.

Ignore the newspapers taped to the floor.  I don’t have a dog.

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