So You Passed The Bar, Part 1 – Still Not A Lawyer Yet

Welcome back to Lawyers & Liquor, the website where I genuinely don’t care what you think as I ramble about legal crap and try to impart a bit of wisdom to the Pampers-wearing pestilence that is the baby lawyer and the law student out there, as well as a healthy dose of spite for the experienced attorney who can find their way in the world.  I’m the Boozy Barrister, and it’s Wednesday, October 10, 2018 as we enter the dark and depraved world of the recent bar admissions.  To a lot of people out there that sat in a stuffy room during two to three days in July to take an exam, and then agonized through the months after, congratulations.  You’re lawyers now.  Or at least you will be as soon as someone administers the oath of office and character and fitness clears your baby-smooth bottoms for the practice of law.  But don’t worry too much about that last point.  If Michael Cohen can get a license to practice, so can you.

Instead, let’s take a moment and recognize that despite the fact you have a license to practice law, none of you really have any clue what you’re going to do next or how you’re going to do it.  And you definitely lack the bare minimum of experience that turns the license to practice law into something other than a license to commit malpractice and take your client from a million dollar house on the hill to eating Vienna sausages and saltine crackers in the local trailer park, right? Right. Don’t even try that “getting offended” shit with me here.  You still have concepts like “truth” and “justice” ringing in your fucking ears from all the idealistic law school professors that never once in their lives did a client intake.  You, folks, are fresh-eyed and happy people.  And I’m here to put an end to that shit right the fuck now.

So why don’t you little pricks settle into your high chairs and straighten the tie on your Baby’s First Real Suit as Boozy tells you some shit you need to know in the real world of the day-to-day shit lawyer.  Because, brothers and sisters, it’s about fucking time someone did.

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Furry Friday: Adoptables, How The F*** Do They Work?

Welcome to yet another Furry Friday here on Lawyers & Liquor, where the multicolored menagerie turns the Boozy Barrister into a mad mustelid for one day out of the month in order to discuss a legal issue related to the fandom full of giant critters.  So buckle up the harnesses, shine up the tags on your leashes, and sit down with a dog bowl full of coffee and stay as we dig into the  intellectual property particulars behind one of the finest traditions of furry art: the adoptable character.

And how, at the end of the day, unless certain precautions are being taken by both the artist and the purchaser, the end product is essentially nothing that most people would think it is.

I’m the Boozy Badger, and this is Lawyers & Liquor’s “Furry Friday – Adoptables, How The Fuck Do They Work?”

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Freaky Friday: Cadaver Law – Grandma’s Corpse is Court Property

When the crypt doors creak and the tombstones quake, ghost come out for a swinging infringement of Disney’s copyright on the lyrics of this song.

That’s right guys, it’s time to swing open the mausoleum and take a trip down the weird world of the legal and illegal. It’s Freaky Friday here on Lawyers & Liquor, and this month we’re going to talk about the unique legal status of the human cadaver.

…I get the feeling a few of you will find this information important, and immediately afterwards will call off work to go “take care of something” in the basement.

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A Fully Functioning Furry Fiefdom: Anthrocon, Part 1.

I want to preface this whole thing by explaining something about attorneys in general: we like to think a little experience goes a long way.  A lawyer with no experience in a particular area of law, but a willingness to learn it, will take a small case in that area. We’ll do all the research and learning to be barely competent, and going forward we’re confident that we now know that area of law.  “Yes,” we’ll confidently tell people that ask us, “I’ve handled those cases before! I know what to expect!”

It was in this spirit that I went to FurtheMore back in April. Everyone had told me Anthrocon was essentially the fucking Super Bowl of furries, and it may be good for me to at least go to a couple exhibition games in advance. So, when FurtheMore made the offer to show a lawyer around their fandom, I accepted and had a great time!  So I was confident. I had been to a furry convention. I knew what to expect. I was ready.

…I was not ready.

I was amazingly not-fucking-ready.

Oh my god was I not ready.

I was so not ready that, guys, no shit…I’m gonna have to talk about Anthrocon in two fucking posts this week, with Film Friday (an exploration of lawyers in the media) being my review of Brian Cuban’s new book on addiction and the legal profession.

Which essentially means I’ll be posting about two days of drinking with giant animal people, then spend a day talking about the crippling addiction issues faced by my colleagues.

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Champerty Champions: Betting on Litigation

I think I mentioned before that I’m the son of a plaintiff’s personal injury attorney.  Essentially, growing up, this meant my family’s fortune was pinned onto the misfortune of others.  Paying a water bill for my father wasn’t a matter of billing time so much as it was a matter of hoping someone got bit by the neighbor’s dog or t-boned by a semi truck.  There were Christmas’s where a wrongful death suit meant a new Nintendo, and there were nights where a bad jury verdict meant the family was playing Uno by candlelight and filling up empty gallon jugs with water until the utilities were turned back on.  Feast or famine was the name of the game in those days, and all because of the concept of a contingency fee.

Which is why lawyers, like shitbirds of all stripes and colors, turned to lenders to meet their normal expenses.

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