Yummy yummy

Jawbitch was working on a lecture, but she couldn't get xrays scanned into her computer. I spent some time helping her out. The bed scanner seemed to be producing good results.

G-man: How's it going hon?
Jawbitch: Looks like it is working fine.
Max: Why do you call her hon?
G-man: Because she's my honey.
Max: Do you really eat her?
G-man: D'oh.

Deliver my Liver

I'm starting to grow weary of putting out the extra mile for my firm. Now that the summers are gearing up to get here, once again I've been recruited to be a mentor. Not only do they want my time, but they want my vital organs too. The firm has planned several summer associate social functions, many opportunities for drinking. Then again, if I leave in the middle of the summer, I can pass the torch on to the club I founded while at ustafirm:

THE MENTORLESS ASSOCIATES.

Sure Happy It's Thursday, Malcolm X

Today was bring your kids to work day at G-man's firm. Little G's been dying to go, since she missed it last year. She'll get to meet and play with other kids from the people I work with. They had a mock trial, which I'm sure the kids loved.

Ever notice that people generally ask from a rather small pool of questions when first meeting someone? Everybody asks where you are from or where were you born, but not where you were conceived?

So, what's your favorite, unusual ice breaker?

Aloha

I had to work, but Jawbitch, Dustwitch Senior, and the kids got to go to Hawaii.

Little G surfed.
















I'm glad the volcano didn't blow.

The Sport of Poker

At breakfast this weekend, Steppinbro argued that Bluto's post about poker as a sport was just ridiculous.

G-man: So, why don't you think poker is a sport?
Steppinbro: Because there's no physical activity that raises your heart rate.
G-man: Yes there is, just try pushing in your whole stack of chips in a final table for a $1M prize. That's gonna raise your hear rate.
Steppinbro: Nah, that's just minimal activity. People who say that poker is a sport are people who can't really play sports. It's just a game.
G-man: But basketball is a game. What makes it more of a sport than poker?
Jawbitch: You're not going to win this one, G-man. Just shut up and move on. Next subject--what are you guys doing today.
AuntK: I think I'm going to go to Costco to go food shopping.
G-man: I shop online at peapod. But I guess that's not really shopping because it requires only a minimal amount of physical activity.
Steppinbro: But shopping is not a sport. There's no competition.
G-man: Tell that to the lady that pushed her cart in front of me to get the last box of Charmin tissues on sale, or the other bitch that cut me off to get in line with her oversized pile of groceries. I'd say that grocery shopping is definitely a sport.
AuntK: That's what I'm saying.

Sure Happy It's Thursday Channel No. 9

I'm travelling to Indianapolis, to visit an eccentric inventor's house. In the back, he has a warehouse that stores all of his stuff. We need to get documentation from twenty some odd years ago to invalidate a fairly notorious patent troll's invention.

Thank God for packrats.

So, what's your most favorite, visited business travel destination?

Cooking Class

Recently, one of my female colleagues DR went to an all-women's lawyer convention. She reported the following, after which the appended email exchange occurred:

When the mediator asked the question of the GC panel how they preferred to be contacted (or pitched) by outside counsel, a panelist said that out of all the pitches that she'd received (and there had been many), her all time favorite was a cooking class event by G-man's firm in New York. At the event, a chef taught the attendees to cook a particular meal and then they all sat down and enjoyed the meal together. The panelist said that the best part of the experience was that nobody talked about business at all. They just chatted and got to know each other.

G-man: Needless to say, I must not have attended that event.
DR: The cooking event was just for women! It's a secret club, don't you know.
G-man: I'm preparing my reverse-sexual discrimination complaint as I type.
DR: Maybe you can go to the next one, you know, as the token guy.

I'm Baaaack

Boy do we have alot of shit to catch up on. But first, this brief non-commercial interlude.

I really can't stand my secretary. She has to be the laziest person on this earth. I really don't generate a whole lot of work for her, but when I do, I'd like to get it back in a reasonable period of time, not, like three weeks later, just before a bar date (and it hasn't even been reported to the client yet).

G-man: Just a few minor typos in here.
Secretary: I couldn't find that little symbol you put in the document.
G-man: It's a Greek letter "alpha." It looks like a fish.
Secretary: Yeah, but I couldn't find it in word.
G-man: Just scroll down in the typeface you're using, it's in there.
Secretary, highlighting the delta: Is this it?
G-man: No, that's delta. It's three symbols before that one.
Secretary: Oh, there it is, at the beginning.
G-man: Yeah, that's why they call it the alphabet.