FurPlanet’s Furry Friday: FurryAir – At Least It’s Not Pet-Screwing

Welcome to another Furry Friday here on Lawyers & Liquor, where I pop open the doors to the rescue shelter that is the internet and allow all the strangely attractive six foot animals to roam free all over my mind.  I’m your host, the Boozy Badger, and while I have the Barrister’s dignity and self-respect bound up with some fuzzy handcuffs and shoved in a hotel clost let me take a minute to first thank the new Furry Friday sponsor here.  We recently replaced the Furry Friday sponsor with the awesome folks over at FurPlanet. These fine hawkers of furry literature have been in business in this community since 2004, back when most folks logged onto the internet with a message that screamed “WELCOME, YOU’VE GOT MAIL!” and have a huge selection of anthropomorphic novels, collections, and comics in their catalog given above. And, and, because they know how much you just love to save a penny or two, for the month of October 2018 you save 10% on every order with the code FBM2018 when checking out, not to mention you get a free $20 book

As Bubbles from Trailer Park Boys would say, “That’s a nice fucking kitty right there.” And we don’t know. The person running their shipping department could actually be a cat. Wouldn’t that make this shit all the more appropriate? Looking at the FurPlanet shipping options, they even have what appears to be an option to ship by air, which means you’ll get those products fast and clean with a cheap…wait. Hold on. I’ve received a message from the crew over at FurPlanet and I’m sorry to announce that there is a possibility the air shipping options may be cancelled. Apparently the new furry-based alternative to UPS didn’t actually pay for the planes, pilots, or shipping material.

Can you guess what we’re about to talk about today?

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Still Not A Lawyer, Part 2 – Let’s Talk About The Oath

Welcome back to another bright and sunny day here on Lawyers & Liquor, where the coffee is as black as my twisted heart and the stress is as overbearing as your mother asking when you’re going to settle down and find a nice boy or girl to share the joy of your life with. I’m the matzo-loving litigator, the Boozy Barrister, and today we’re going to continue our discussion of all the things that have to happen after you pass the bar exam. That’s right, we have another day of celebrating the professional celibacy, or, if you’re caught up in the character and fitness portion of this whole mess, legal cuckolding that is the newly admitted baby lawyer. Be you the recent admission with the ink still drying on your license or the gritty old attorney slowly aging into irrelevance, we here at Lawyers & Liquor believe that you, too, deserve to be roundly lambasted and lectured about the poor life decisions you, personally, have made to lead you to this point.

You may recall that last time we discussed the simple fact that even with the board of bar examiners saying you are minimally competent to practice law on the basis of a few essay questions and filling in the right bubbles here and there, that doesn’t make you an attorney until you’re actually admittedto the practice of law. And, as we talked then, the admission to the practice of law is more than a mere formality, because it involved shit like the Character and Fitness examiners digging deep into your sordid little past of keg stands, requiring you to supplement anything their darkened little souls require. It’s a form of legal confession, except you don’t just think the person hearing your confession may be jerking off, you know they probably are, and there’s no penance for the past in the majority of cases. But whilst you wait for the cabal of legalistic proctologists of the profession to finish snapping on their rubber gloves and just getting elbow deep all up in your shit, there’s something else you can start considering on the assumption that everything will turn out okay, and that’s when are you going to take your oath and become a lawyer.

Because lawyers? We not only fucking swear, we are sworn as well.

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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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