Mosta my objections gets overruled, Donna. I think 'em up faster than they can overrule 'em. Usually I just keep my mouth shut and let the jury know I'm just being a good boy, but what they're hearing from the other guy is all nonsense.
Funny thing about the "Keep shakin' that bush, boy," case, is that I walked the guy. He'd been drinkin' and blew a red light, broadsiding a car crossing the intersection, shaking up the lady in that car, and banging his face on his steering wheel. Face bleeding, he failed the field sobriety test and then the blood alcohol test. (This is a war story, in case you hadn't noticed. Lawyers only tell war stories about the cases they've won, for some reason.) The DA wanted a year in the stony lonesome but my guy was booked for a movie and didn't want to go in. The lawyer who sent him to me, now a federal judge, figured he couldn't win it.
Last time he saw me he called me the miracle worker, which I kinda never forgot and don't mind repeating even when not asked, as it happens to coincide with my own modest view of myself.
Don't ask me how I did it, that's a trade secret. "Magic," is the usual answer.
Later the actor had a movie opening, I guess for a test run, in SF and he invited me to attend as his guest which was nice. Introduced me to all his co-stars as his mouthpiece in SF who kept his *ss outa jail. I'm sure they were duly impressed. My kids, were, when they saw him on the TV. "That your client, Dad?"
Greatest thing I ever did in my kids eyes was this. A friend of mine ran a golf tournament, and since he had sent me a big case, I owed him a favor, but I couldn't do anything directly because he was also a judge. A very bad judge, but since he was my friend, I keep my mouth shut about that. So they had a raffle after the tournament and after dinner they pull the tickets out of a box and announce the winners. Being a nice guy 'n all, I buy a hundred bucks worth of tickets. There's a room full of people.
First I win the TV, then I win the VCR, and then the golf bag...by that time I'm offering the gifts back but they say no, you won 'em fair and square, so I got to keep 'em. All the judges there (the place was filthy with judges) had chipped in two bucks apiece for a couple raffle tickets, so my C-note skewed the odds.
When I brought the loot home, however, my kids thought I was the greatest thing since, what, think of something after the Beatles and before the Simpsons.
Nuttin' I've done since has equalled that.
Tonite I went to a Samoan party. A friend of mine is running for public office and his wife is Samoan. You ever see Samoans? Very big people. Big is handsome, big is beautiful. You can see why Gauguin went apesh*t over Samoan women. Large, but they move like fluid thunder. And God help you if one smiles at you. You are then a dead duck. Big smiles that don't take no for an answer. The dancing. People throw money. Enough dances and you make up the campaign deficit. Just don't get in the way of the guys. Even the cops steer clear of Samoans around here.
Okay, from now on, short answers, but tonite I'm winding down.
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