Four Reasons I’m Totally Okay With Not Being At Clio Con.

So this week, as this post is being typed and going live, there’s a conference full of lawyers going on in New Orleans. Called “Clio Cloud Conference,” it’s as if decades of governmental corruption, a goddamn hurricane, and having a dozen people bet they can tell you “where you got them shoes at” wasn’t enough punishment for choosing to live in the original city of perpetual sin (seriously, that place has all of the Big 7 available within easy walking distance from your hotel), an internet lawyer company decided attorneys should descend like locusts from the heavens on the fair city for a few days. Of course, this doesn’t include yours truly.  Because yours truly can’t justify taking off a Monday and Tuesday to fly down to New Orleans, wear horribly loud Hawaiian shirts, and “network” with people like Keith from Associate’s Mind or any of the other legal luminaries that will be rampaging around the Quarter.

Instead, I’m in my office with a desk overflowing with files, bad fucking music playing in the background, and a cup of coffee as black and bitter as my goddamn soul is.

But I’m not bitter about the fact every other goddamn lawyer on the internet seems to be gathered in a cesspit of fun and depravity. Not at all. Why would I be bitter about that? Shit, I can even give you four good reasons why I totally don’t even fucking care that I’m not at the Clio Cloud Conference in New Orleans!

We All Know Buzz Aldrin is the Best Astronaut.

You know who the keynote speaker is for the legal conference down there? Commander Chris Hadfield, the fucking astronaut who commanded the International Space Station. After leaving his position as the most powerful Canadian in history, considering the man was the ultimate authority off of Earth for a period of time, he returned to the planet and said to himself “Gee, I think I’ll go talk to a room full of lawyers and eat some goddamn beignets.”

Only the latter of the two choices make sense.

And while Chris Hadfield is cool and all, the only astronaut I want to see talk is Buzz Aldrin, the second motherfucker to step on the surface of the moon, who has spent his post-space career generally being as badass as he can fucking be. Let me point out that while Chris Hadfield is an amusing scientist and professor who has written a series of books expressing hope for mankind and our reach into space, hope doesn’t play well with lawyers. Meanwhile, Buzz Aldrin, as an elderly man, punched a guy who called him a “coward and liar,” and instead of being chagrined dedicated an entire fucking chapter to the aforementioned punching in his autobiography.  That’s a sonuvabitch I’ll miss work to see.

Chris Hadfield? Well…I mean…it’s neat he gave a concert from space…I guess. If he comes to the local coffee shop to sing Wonderwall I’ll go check him out.

Who Wants To Hang Out With the Cool Kids Anyhow?

Plus, the whole damn conference is just packed to the gills with all the cool kids from the goddamn internet. Keith Lee from Associate’s Mind is there, and so is Sam Glover from The Lawyerist and all these other pseudo-celebrity lawyers that I read on the internet every day. Where’s the fun in meeting those people, like the CEO of Fastcase, Ed Walters? Bunch of fucking prima donnas, that’s what they are, all of them. I like to spend my time hanging out with a more down to earth crowd than astronauts and folks whose work I’ve read and followed for years.

Like Donnie, the mentally unstable gentleman sitting at the bar next to me as I type this. Did you know Donnie is the goddamn Emperor of the Supreme Court and is going to make it illegal for dogs to wear boots on their heads? Donnie’s going places, man. Why would I want to interact and network with those other guys when Donnie is offering to make me Attorney Rear Admiral (which he insists is more powerful than Attorney General “because boats, man”)?

Yeah. Fuck you guys, you bourgeoisie legal assholes. Donnie and I are going to get some shit done.

I Bet The Food Sucks, Anyhow.

You know New Orleans is famous for its food, right? Well you know what these guy are going to do? They’re going to bring in a bunch of food trucks to the conference. Food. From Trucks. I mean, what is this, the ice cream man grown up and trying to make me a po’boy? Nevermind the fact that New Orleans has arguably some of the best food trucks in the country which are likely coming to the hotel to serve the ravenous hordes of lawyers that have invaded. They’re still eating food. From trucks.

I, meanwhile, can go to the local Arby’s and sit down like a civilized human being to eat my mass produced but comforting slop like I always do. Sure, those people get to try new and exciting cuisine in one of the best cities in the United States to do so, but as Trump has proven what we really need in this country is more of the same old thing with no surprises. Those people trying all that tasty automotive edibility? They’re practically un-American! One half pound roast beef for me, sir! On white bread, like God fucking intended.

Those commies can keep their good food with interesting flavors.

I Got To Keep My Money.

You know how much tickets to this thing cost? Like $700 per goddamn person.  That’s fucking ridiculous, even if it does include meals and access to everything…and CLE hours from courses taught by some of the nation’s experts in the fields they’re discussing. You know, shit that costs like…$500-$700 to get anyhow. Oh, and networking events, fun with other people, the ambience of New Orleans, events and shit with open bars, and the chance to pick the brains of some of the leading edge thinkers of the legal industry. I mean, still though, $700.

Here’s a list of things I can do with that $700 that I likely will do:

  1. Buy 700 $1 scratch-off tickets
  2. Buy 7 $100 scratch off tickets
  3. Buy 14 bottles of $50 Bourbon
  4. Buy 35 bottles of really bad Bourbon.

I think the choice is clear, don’t you?


So, I’m totally okay with not being at the awesome fucking conference currently happening with all of the legal trendsetters. Completely cool with it. Shit, maybe next year I’ll start my own goddamn conference in my basement and shit. I won’t have Chris Hadfield and food trucks, but I can get a guy in an astronaut costume to play the fucking clarinet or something and order in some pizza.

Bet I could still get Keith Lee to come, though. The guy’s a bit of whore.

So next year look for BoozyCon 2018: A Lawyer Conference for the Rest of Us.

….Only 800 scratch-off tickets (unused).