Good morning and welcome back to Monday here on Lawyers & Liquor, where I try to recoup all the goodwill I burned through in recovering from an injury and being a general roustabout in anything not case related by redirecting you all away from my flagrant ignoring of my responsibilities on this site and back towards the questions of law, fact, and fun that tend to pop up profanely here. Isn’t that just one hell of a run-on sentence? Anyhow, I’m your hobbling host the Boozy Barrister, here to pour seething hot rage and recommendations into your eyeholes as we keep trucking on through the dark night of litigation finance.
You may remember that last week, before I disappeared into the netherworld of lazy lawyers in their off time, I spoke about the threats that are coming to bear on the Legal Services Corporation, the federal agency that provides grants to legal aid non-profits and assists them in letting the indigent have their day in court. The whole reason we have to have organizations like this is because, frankly, if someone hires me to bring a lawsuit or defend one I expect to get fucking paid as a result. Now, some of you out there are saying “Boozy, I thought lawyers only get paid if you win!” To that I say: Do I sound like the type of guy who takes cases on contingency? I like eating my meals. The only gambling I ever do is at the pai gow table, surrounded by hard-smoking and hard-drinking Chinese businessmen screaming things in Mandarin and Cantonese (neither or which I speak). I’m not gambling in the office.
I mean, I would if I could, but it’s been hell on wheels trying to get the partners to recognize the need for a pai gow table in the conference room.
No, in most cases us American Attorneys get paid win, lose, or draw. You may go home with empty pockets and a judgment against you, but I go home with my check or I don’t sally forth into the legal battlefield with you in the first fucking place. And that, for many people out there, is the problem. But…what if I told you there was another way? And there may be one, too, if we dig back through the past and examine the alternative method of paying for a lawsuit…which is what we’re doing this week.
But first, let me explain the two historical methods of paying for a lawsuit: The English Rule and the American Rule.
Continue reading ““Fees Fi Fo Fum”: The English Rule and The American Rule, Part 1″
Southern trees bear strange fruit
Blood on the leaves and blood at the root
Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees
As the night falls and the moon rises, we’ll take a journey this week far beneath the law library into the catacombs where the bones of lesser lawyers line the walls and guttering torches light the way. That’s right, it’s time to enter the legal crypts for another monthly edition of Freaky Friday here on Lawyers & Liquor, where we talk about the morbid, morose, paranormal, or unsettling parts of the law and legal history. So settle in and sit a spell as we pull down a dusty tome of dark legal, and illegal, knowledge to drop on you. Especially this time, as we talk about the ghosts of America’s past, both figurative and literal, of those denied justice, sentenced to death, and executed by the whims of the mob and the animus of illogical hatred.
But first, a warning:
Today’s post will contain graphic historical images and content. There is no nudity, but it will be disturbing. There will be dead people. There will be people killed for their skin color. Feel free to avoid the post this month. I’ll be back next month with another one that’s more light-hearted.
Continue reading “Freaky Friday: The Ghosts of Justice Denied”
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.
Continue reading “Freaky Friday: Lawyers Are Deadly”
HEY! So, there were a lot of great suggestions for posts yesterday from my newly found technicolor zoo of friendly animal-people, but I woke up this morning and thought to myself: “Am I gonna listen to these assholes? I don’t even let other lawyers suggest what the fuck I’m going to write about!”
So today, I’m writing for all the people out there, you sweet little clueless shits, that have decided they may want to be lawyers. I plan on making this a continuing series, by the way, because there’s a lot to be said to the dumbasses that feel the need to become attorneys.
Continue reading “So You Want To Be A Lawyer, Part 1: A Brief History of the Legal Profession”