Wednesday, July 06, 2005

King Erasmus, Esquire (whatever that means)

One of my fantasies is to become a lawyer. Not the kind that works hard, long hours, but the kind that gets to throw his weight around like on some of the TV shows I watch. “What would my friend the Mayor think if I got a ticket, officer?”.

I’d love to be the kind of attorney who hammers the jackasses of the world. When I or my friends have problems with companies, I’d call, give them a hard-ass time, talk about suing, and settle for the GDP of a small Latin-American country. “Yes, that’s correct, my brother did not receive his rebate. Send the settlement check, plus $5000 for my fee by courier to my office. Oh, wait. While I’ve got you on the phone, Verizon Wireless, let’s talk about enabling all the Bluetooth functions of my V710 phone…”

Ahhh, this could be fun. I could also make up insulting legal terms for people who annoy me. “Your Honor, I would like to ask the court to issue a Writ of Habeus Corpus, or in the case of Mr. Jackass, a Writ of Habeus Loser.” I could sue with impunity, tying my enemies up in court until they capitulate. That’ll get my hedge trimmers back. Stupid Flanders.

Yes, it’s time for me to head to bed. When I get sleepy the delusions of grandeur just seem to come out of the woodwork.