Quote:
Originally Posted by Pretty Little Flower
Hold on, I thought I realized that the exact same joke was embedded in your post, and that my response post was serving to build on and underscore that joke. That does not sound like your definition of a canonical whiff. That sounds more like . . . wait a fucking second, what the fucking hell is wrong with me. Am I actually having a conversation about whether an anonymous post I made on a lawyer chatting board is a whiff? Did I actually adopt and use the term "canonical whiff"? What the fuck has gone wrong with my life? I was supposed to be post-paycheck by now, fucking hot secretaries whom I hired to drive cases of single malt scotch and other comforts of home to vacation spots thinly-disguised as meetings on high profile regarding pro bono cases I dabbled in when not attending society fundraisers as favors to celebrity friends. This post is the EXACT OPPOSITE of how things were supposed to go. This whole fucking chatting board is THE EXACT OPPOSITE OF HOW THINGS WERE SUPPOSED TO BE.
|
My dad’s best friend and law partner used to joke about how their lives were exactly as they should be. Of course, dad went back into public service, while John moved their formerly shared practice into defending 49ers in their DV and DUI cases, so dad took out loans for college while John bought vacation homes and ski boats, so the joke started to wear a little thin. And then one day we got a call that John had choked to death having an anaphylactic reaction to something; we’re still not sure what. Could’ve been anything; allergies are weird like that. What I’m saying is buck up, little camper; sometimes the single malt is the thing that kills you.
