You kids may have heard about the Arizona Sheriff’s Deputy who went pawing through a defense attorney’s client file in open court while she was presenting oral arguments. Well here is the video from the court. That officer is one ballsy bitch! The action starts around the 0:35 mark.
In celebration of Hump Day, I wanted to share this little gem with you. Enjoy!
FN1. The trial transcript quotes Ms. Hayden as saying Murphy called her a snitch bitch “hoe.” A “hoe,” of course, is a tool used for weeding and gardening. We think the court reporter, unfamiliar with rap music (perhaps thankfully so), misunderstood Hayden’s response. We have taken the liberty of changing “hoe” to “ho,” a staple of rap music vernacular as, for example, when Ludacris raps “You doin’ ho activities with ho tendencies.”
U.S. v. Murphy, 406 F.3d 857, 859 (7th Cir. 2005).
The early part of the week was spent preparing to argue an Objection to a Motion for Relief in Bankruptcy Court. I am working in the Civil Clinic at school this semester and our client’s Mortgagee wanted to foreclose on her home. I know zip about the bankruptcy code, but apparently its fairly straight-forward. I dug through some supplements and the code itself and wrote the objection. I was able to watch several seasoned attorney’s argue the objection before I had to do my dog and pony show. I was a little nervous, definitely shook a little bit at the podium, and talked too fast. This was in between trading good-natured barbs with opposing counsel about the new Lexus he just bought. Oh the perils of private practice! In any event, the judge gave our client some time to catch up on her payments and postponed ruling on the Mortgagee’s Motion for Relief.
With the hearing out of the way, I turned my attention to my law review Note. As I mentioned previously, I failed miserably in presenting my topic and was told to redo it. I spent nearly 40 hours in the library this week working! it out. I had to put together a substantial outline of to show that I knew what I was doing. As I started doing more research and writing, I actually started looking forward to writing the Note. Just last week I was of the opinion that I would rather poke my eyes out with an ice pick than write this Note. It’s all about perspective boys and girls!
This weekend brought some much needed fun. I went rollerskating with the gays and was reminded how I am no longer a spring chicken. My knees started to hurt after an hour of skating, I was nearly taken out by speed skating 14-year olds, and some old bitch was channeling Brian Boitano whilst skating to the inspiring musical selection of “Make It Rain.” Classic! Bitch nearly took me out as he pirouetted around the rink. Last night we went to the big silly gay bar in Manchester, NH for some shenanigans (read: dancing). I was not assaulted by any militant lesbians, was not yelled at for drinking on the dance floor, and generally held it together. Highlights include the token black guy in our group posing for pictures with the locals for no particular reason other than he was black, and a drag queen forcing one of our kids to motor boat her chest.
So that’s the view from the men’s bathroom at work. I don’t know whose brilliant idea it was to put a wall of windows in such a private area. Personally, I’m not pee shy, but I certainly don’t revel in the fact that someone might be watching me do my business (like in Shortbus).
Professor K decided we were going to talk about attempt crimes today. For some reason, he suddenly made his left hand into the shape of a gun and pointed it at the student sitting at the prosecutor’s table:
Professor K: If I load my gun and point it at Ms. Huntington, does that constitute a sufficent step to charge me with attempted murder?
Class: Awkward silence that occurs in most 8:00 AM classes
Me: (raising hand)
Professor K: Hmm…yes….(looking down at his list of names and pictures)…..Mr. Stiles?
Me: Ugh…if you’re going to shoot Ms. Huntington can you please aim for her stomach? I’m right in the line of fire…
Professor K: I’ll take that into consideration…
God love the 1L’s.
As I was walking through the school parking lot, on my way to class this morning, I was nearly run over by a black Cadillac. I was about to give the careless driver the finger and dose of Oh no he didn’t!, but was stopped by the deep bass-like sound emanating from the tinted albatross. The disembodied voice of Robert Stack (or what sure as hell sounded like him) was proselytizing about long-arm statutes and attenuated connections. With a curt little smile, I kept on walking, because inside that death trap of car sat a frazzled 1L trying to learn all he or she could about the intricacies of personal jurisdiction. That in and of itself is far more punishment than I could ever administer. Welcome to law school bitch! 
I was in Boston last week for an event hosted by my undergraduate college and I took the subway to get to the event location. I often see an assortment of interesting characters, offering all sorts of mild amusement, riding the train. As such, I thought I would share this open letter which I delightfully found on craigslist recently which frames my sentiments exactly:
Dear MBTA riders,
That sucks about the fare hike huh? Anyway let’s talk about proper transit etiquette when one is crammed onto a metal tube with a bunch of strangers, yeah?
1) When you’re about to get on a train, you need to realize people are getting off of it. Wait your turn, the train conductors stick their heads out the window looking for people like you, they see you, they’re not going to pull away while you’re half in the door, even if some of you deserve it.
2) If you’re sitting in a handicap seat and you’re not handicapped or disabled in any way, you’re a dick. Get up and let the elderly person, the guy in an air cast or the pregnant chick sit down. Drunk Sox fans don’t count as being disabled, even if they can’t walk.
3)Those seats are damn tiny, but they’re not urinals. Somehow men seem to play the 1, 3, 5 game with the seats and it’s not cool. Guys, you’re big and strong and can’t possibly be expected to close your legs for fear of damaging your junk. But maybe you could make the exception during rush hour when there are 3 seats in a row and nobody can sit down because your legs and arms are splayed open like the Vitruvian Man.
4) Public transit is one of the last large, government run facilities that does not subject people to searches and carry on scans.We’d like to keep it that way, so please stop being crazy and scaring us. Understand that some people can be paranoid if you’re yelling incoherent swears, punching walls randomly or just sitting and simply giving off an aura of violence and have crazy eyes. You know who you are. Get off the train and go calm down and come back when you’re not making teenage girls from the suburbs piss their pants.
5) Speaking of teenage girls from the suburbs: I know that riding the train is like probably the coolest thing ever and you have to take pictures for your Facebook profile to put in your **~BOSTOONNNN~** album but try to keep the squealing and braces snapping to a minimum. If you get lost, ask someone in an MBTA uniform where you should go instead of helplessly wailing “Oh my GOD where are we? Oh my god we’re going to be killed, we’re in Mattapan!”
6) A special note for Red Sox/Bruins fans: Similar to the above statement, we can tell by your dress and your wide eyed, slack jawed expression that you are not used to riding the train and you are so totally lost. There are signs all over the damn place that tell you to take any train except E to Kenmore. I know you’re in the big city, but you do not have to act like you think a city dweller acts. We don’t knock people the fuck over to get a seat, nor do we Purel every visible skin surface after touching the rails and glare at everyone who nudges us. Newsflash: the train isn’t normally this crowded, it’s hot and stuffy and packed because of YOU. Have some courtesy, people who are not dressed in head to toe Red Sox gear are probably sick of your shit. Also, Teenage Boys in Nautica Hats and White Jordans: We know you’re drinking. You smell like the Captain Morgan’s your big sister bought for you. Work on not puking or peeing in your McDonald’s cup, and stop swinging from the overhead rails. Otherwise, carry on.
7) Some people I think have attachment issues and seem to be confused about what constitutes a companion. Your lunch box, purse, briefcase and coat do not a person make. Therefore, don’t give them their own special seat. There is also no such thing as an Invisible Man, if there is an empty window seat next to you on one of the older green line trains, you need to move in. Small Asian girls with headphones, I’m talking to you.
For people with large packages like luggage, baby strollers, huge instruments etc.: I feel you. People are rolling their eyes and sighing and shit but seriously do they want to pay for your cab? What are you supposed to do, stick your baby in the diaper bag and put it on your lap? Or leave your luggage on the plane after what I’m sure was an annoying flight filled with even more assholes than this train? Nope. Tell them to suck it, and to clear a path when you’re trying to get off the damn train. See #1 for info on these tards, they’re not easy to get around.
9) Don’t be so nervous when Spare Change Guy asks you if you have any spare change in that delightful rasping way of his. He’s used to being turned down, someone eventually gives him money. I saw a guy get so flustered one time he dropped his briefcase and change went flying everywhere. Spare Change Guy had a field day with him.
10) People generally like to sit and behave themselves on the train. Wherever they’re headed, they probably would rather be somewhere else, like home in bed or at the park with their kids or drinking alone in their living rooms. But we all have to deal with each other for these periods of time every day and night and it would be nice if everyone made an effort to stop being so aggravating to everyone else. So, if someone is wearing headphones or reading a book/newspaper, they’re probably not looking for a conversation. Leave them alone. Girls don’t come on the train to find boyfriends, stop telling us how damn fine we are and that we should be models. Once a comment like that is in the air, you’re stuck on the train with that person at least until the next stop and it’s awkward for everyone. If someone is sleeping soundly, let the poor guy sleep. He’s probably tuckered out from trying to maneuver his way around Red Sox fans. And if someone is truly in need of a seat, or needs help with their groceries, or can’t make the step up onto the train, help them out. Good Karma goes a long way and it’s about time everyone stopped pretending they’re the only person on the train that matters.
Sincerely,
A Frequent Rider.
