Freaky Friday: Murders are not Defects – The Case of Milliken v. Jacono, et. al.

Welcome to yet another Freaky Friday here on Lawyers & Liquor, where we explore the creepy, macabre, paranormal, or just plain strange shadows of the justice system.  I’m you ghost host, the BOOzy Barrister, and today we’re going to deal with something more frightening than any possible ghostie or ghoulie out there.  That’s right, today we’re going to talk about the required disclosures that a person must give when they’re trying to sell you a house, and what they may not have to tell you at all under the current law.  Specifically, we’re going to talk about the Pennsylvania case of Milliken v. Jacono, and how the highest court of the Keystone State has ruled that a murder in your new starter home (and the subsequent haunting that followed) isn’t something you need to be told about.

Fucking comforting, isn’t it?

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Freaky Friday: The Westfield Watcher Is Not A Material Defect

Welcome back to Freaky Friday here on Lawyers & Liquor, where the crypt door to the unholy filing room has swung open and the little ghosties and ghoulies from all over have crept out to serve summons in the dead of night.  I’m your ghost host, the BOO-zy Barrister, here to talk about the creepy, paranormal, and downright weird areas of law that others seem to forget exist.  Or at least don’t mention, because as we learned about in the past, there’s a lot of stuff in law that we’re not going to tell you about when we’re taking on your case.  Like the fact that lawyers are essentially modern day vampires who suck your blood, but we don’t wear capes (okay, everyone except that one legal aid guy, but he’s a little strange and nobody sits next to him at bar functions anymore.)

Is that really an issue, though?  Not telling people shit? I mean, it’s like the biggest horror movie trope there is.  You don’t tell someone that the amulet you left them in your will is haunted by a demon that comes out at night to anally assault you without lube.  You fail to mention the cemetery that got paved over so your new house could be built on top of it.  Maybe you leave off the part about the family of stalkers that’s been watching your house for the last several generations and sends you letters demanding that you feed the home “young blood.”  It’s a trope, right?

You know, except for that last one.

That last one totally fucking happened in real life.

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Freaky Friday: Felonious Fortune Telling

Welcome to the May, 2018 edition of Freaky Friday here on Lawyers and Liquor!  Yeah, I know, I got my dates all messed up, this is normally supposed to be the second Friday of the month and all that, but we’re in the process of re-vamping the Friday post timing and shit to match up to the interests.  Freaky Friday will lead the month, followed by Fetish Friday, then Furry Friday on the third Friday of the month, with the last Friday of the month being open to topic suggestions from the Patreon supporters of the website.  So, now that all that boring shit is out of the way, let’s get on back down to the brass tacks of talking about the law and shit as it relates to the paranormal, the strange, the creepy, and the down right strange with your ghost host, the BOOzy Barrister.

If you’ve ever been on the streets of any major city, you’ve likely seen a couple of places with neon signs in the window that blink on and off, saying shit like “FORTUNES READ!” or “PALM READING!” or other shit that’s really similar to that.  It’s like a staple of the urban experience these days that there’s always some fortune teller willing to fire up the crystal ball, put on a headdress, and take your money in exchange for getting your fortune read in a room decorated to look like a Romani caravan from some bad 1930’s black and white Universal monster movie, right?  So you amble in the door, you plop down your money,  giggle with your friends even if you’re a member of the toughest of the biker gangs, and decide to see what the fates, or at least the person putting on weird accent across from you, has to say about your future.

[Newsflash: Your future will likely involve furries. I don’t know how at this point, but it’s a safe bet that furries will be involved].

It’s all in good fun, right! It sure is, Frank the Future-gazing biker. Right up until you realize that you may have assisted the fortune teller in breaking the goddamn law in your state.

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Freaky Friday: Silence of the Lamb Funeral Home

“Don’t tell me they’re not burning bodies. I was at the ovens at Auschwitz.”

Good evening, and welcome to another episode of Lawyers & Liquor Presents Freaky Friday.  I’m your host, the BOOzy Barrister, here to guide you through the dark world of human, and not-so-human, nature as we explore the paranormal, the macabre, the spooky, and the downright sickening aspects of the law. This month, we have a real treat for you, a home cooked meal if you wish, arising from the curious case of Pasadena California’s Lamb Funeral Home and its erstwhile owner, David Sconce, whose attempts to make it exceedingly clear “You can’t take it with you” led to a massive reform of the California mortuary laws and regulations.

And now, without further adieu,   let’s fire up the crematory ovens as we step back in time thirty years to sunny Pasadena, California and the Lamb Funeral Home, where in the depths of the ovens something sinister has begun.

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Freaky Friday: The Curse of Johnny Frank Garrett

 “I’d like to thank my family for loving me and taking care of me. And the rest of the world can kiss my everloving ass, because I’m innocent.”

Welcome to Freaky Friday here on Lawyers & Liquor, where we crack open the crypt doors to discuss the supernatural, paranormal, unsettling, unbelievable, or just plain morbid aspects and stories from the practice of law. I’m you obese crypt keeper, the BOOzy Barrister, and we’re about to take another midnight stroll through the darkness to discuss this month’s macabre tale of an allegedly innocent man that went to his execution defiant…and took with him pretty much every lawyer, judge, and spectre of the legal system that sentenced him.

So without further ado, huddle in around the campfire as we spin out the tale of the Curse of Johnny Frank Garrett.

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