So for the past few weeks I’ve sort of taken this blog off the beaten path and started writing some shit for prospective purchasers of legal services. Some of that has been by necessity, since my recent reading audience has expanded further than a few attorneys sitting around a Slack channel and some law students from Twitter. So, naturally, because I’m a big ol’ media whore when it comes to this shit, that means that some of my topics have been less in the way of legal thought and more in the way of “Don’t be a fucking moron, kay?”
This has left, quite fucking understandably, some of the attorneys that read the blog feeling like they’ve been tossed on the trash heap for the newer readers, as the topics that are directly pertinent to their interests have decreased while goofy shit, like bondage and Furries, has increased. But what they’re missing is the fact that as I give advice on mundane shit to the muggles, I’m slyly trying to suggest ways a lawyer can switch up some things about their practice and themselves in order to get more of their fucking money.
Like today. Over the past couple weeks I’ve walked some mouth-breathing morons through the process of locating an attorney on Google, because apparently functional adults need to be told how to fucking Google shit, and how to not appear like a complete and utter chucklefuck. I understand the latter may be particularly difficult for members of the great unwashed hordes that call your office asking for free advice, but I’m at least trying to offer better advice than “Shower, and for God’s sake, lay off the fucking Axe body spray. It doesn’t attract women. It attracts shame.” But today is special, because today, at the request of several people, I’m going to toss out five tips on identifying the attorney a client doesn’t want to fucking hire.
And you assholes with bar licenses should perk right the fuck up, too, because I’m not only telling them how to select an attorney, I’m telling you how to stop looking like a complete and total shitstain.
So, that shit said, let’s take a look at the Five Warning Signs that clients should pay attention to.
Continue reading “One Size Doesn’t Fit All: Clients, Judge Your Lawyers.”
Last week I told all of the non-lawyer punks that are now reading the blog about how to contact a lawyer. Of course, being muggles and potential clients, and therefore incapable of wiping their own asses with an instruction manual, the immediate response to the post was “But…But Boozy, how do we decide what lawyer to hire once we’ve found one! I mean, plenty of lawyers are scumbags who just want our money!”
You hear that sound? That’s the sound of a million good lawyers out there sighing and throwing themselves backwards in their chairs all at once because you “heard from a guy about this one lawyer that was a real son of a bitch” and “didn’t care about the case.” Look, some lawyers suck, that’s just the nature of things. Some birds don’t fly, some dogs bite, and some lawyers have no business with a bar license, but that shit happens. Most of the time, though, the reason your fuckstick friend is so unhappy with their lawyer has absolutely nothing to do with the lawyer themselves, and a lot to do with what they think happened.
So how can lawyers fucking combat this plague of people that assume we’re all money-grubbing whores out for every penny in their pocket? Well, first, don’t hire me. Because I’m likely to be a money-grubbing whore out for every last penny in your pocket. Outside of that? Well, maybe I should take a fucking moment and tell people how they can act during a consult and assess a lawyer. I mean, I told lawyers how to assess a case and a client a while back, maybe it’s time for a companion piece on what to do once one of the mouthbreathing morons that make up the mass of humanity stumbles, through sheer happenstance and coincidence, into a law office instead of their friend’s living room. You know, that friend who “totally was a criminal justice major in college and can give you free legal advice.”
So, lawyers, turn back. This one’s for the potential clients. Or, you know, don’t turn back, because you motherfuckers know how I feel about clients and you may get a little bit of enjoyment from this shit.
Continue reading ““Don’t Be A Dumba**” : 5 Tips for The Potential New Client”
I was supposed to review Larry Kelter’s new book, Back to Brooklyn this week, but that’s gonna get put off until Monday so I’ll have the weekend to actually, you know, finish the review. That sort of left me without a post yesterday, which is the main reason I’m getting one up on Thursday. If you’re not a fan of that, go to hell. I’ve been a little busy managing my goddamn mountain of furries and a few new cases that I picked up over the past week.
Both of which gave me a great idea, namely, how to identify a lawyer that you want to hire as opposed to an asshole like me that’ll want you to hire them. Apparently, looking through the Twitter feeds of idiots, I’ve discovered that too goddamn many people have absolutely no idea how to contact an attorney that doesn’t appear on a billboard or a mid afternoon commercial. This is a fucking issue, because people, and especially the subset of people defined as clients (those mouthbreathing morons) are attracted not to professional advertisements, but rather to eye-catching ads designed to rope you in.
This means that some folks are going to bad lawyers.
So, while I generally fucking hate clients and believe they deserve all the misery they’ve brough on themselves, I’ve decided that this one’s for you, Mr. Idiotic Lawsuit Bringer. Let’s talk about how you can skip right over the shitstains that populate the legal profession and hire an attorney who’s worth a damn.
Continue reading “No More Phonebooks: Teaching Idiots to Find A Lawyer”
It’s Monday, which means I should have spent my weekend working on a nice post for you guys and digging into a post for Wednesday, leaving me free to come up with and post something for this week’s Friday entry. What I did instead was drink copious amounts of Sour Monkey from Victory Brewing Company, then wash all of that down with half a bottle of Booker’s bourbon while playing games on my new computer. The end result is I don’t really have shit for you today, and trust me, I felt bad about it.
I mean, when I started this site the whole idea was to post something three times a week. Multiple times now I’ve failed to do that. I’ve gotten busy, or fallen behind on shit, and decided that the blog entry is the last thing I needed to be worrying about. Some of you out there are saying “Oh, Boozy, don’t worry about it man! We know that sometimes you’re going to be busy or overwhelmed, it’s cool to take a break every now and again.”
No, motherfuckers, no it isn’t. Because that would make me a liar, and I fucking hate people that lie to me about shit. You know why? Because I have to deal with clients, and clients lie all the fucking time. Those assholes are giving me money to help them and they lie about shit.
And look-ee here, just like that I have a reason to be a salty bastard this early in the morning: Bitching about clients that lie.
Which is every client.
Because all clients lie.
Continue reading “Clients are F’ing Liars: Dealing With A Client’s Knowing Omissions”
Before we jump into today’s post, I want to touch on a few things that seem to have occurred over the weekend. Over the past week, I’ve been subjected to conversations with the dregs of humanity. These are people with absolutely no moral fiber, no education, and no future. I can’t believe how many of them have retweeted me since Friday evening, and frankly I’m ashamed that they follow me.
I’m speaking, of course, of Ohioans (What? What did you think I was talking about? Bigot…).
A second order of business before I go into today’s topic is a disclaimer: I’M NOT A FUCKING TAX LAWYER. There is a very specific sub-set of very boring attorneys that handle things like “tax codes” and “Tax Court.” I’m not one of them. I’m your general civil litigator with a bad fucking attitude and a bottle of whiskey in my desk, so don’t come running to me if you try to form a church and get your ass audited. It’s your own damn fault. You shouldn’t be taking tax advice from an inebriated asshole with a website just because the furries really like him at the moment.
In fact, you probably shouldn’t be making your life decisions based solely on what the furries like. That just…That seems like a bad idea to me. Great people, but think of the optics of justifying your decisions with “And it’s all because a six foot badger told me to do it.”
ALRIGHT! So, now that we’ve got all of that shit out of the way, let’s move on to talking about motherfucking non-profits! Yeah! Can you feel the excitement? We’re about to get all 26 U.S.C. 501(c) up in this bitch!
Continue reading ““No, Reverend, You Can’t Buy Rims With Donations.” : Boozy on the Non-Profit Form”