What do you call 300 lawyers at he bottom of the sea?

A good start.

Ok - I know - that joke is old and tired and terribly unoriginal. But when the cement shoes fit... One recent personal experience and one current news event have me itching to tell endless reams of lawyer jokes.

My husband is a lawyer (by training only). I don't hate him, to be clear. And I don't hate the good ones either. The ones with whom I have trouble with are the ones who should be having significant difficulty looking at themselves in the mirror every night.

I won't use real names here because I don't know what kind of shady business these guys are involved in and I want no connection to or repercussion from that cadre of criminals.

We renovated our house. The project ended over a year ago but we have spent the intervening time battling with our original millworker over monies he claims we owe him. You see, we fired his lazy, incompetant ass after he repeatedly failed to deliver product that even remotely passed for complete, let alone, of adequate quality. He promptly placed a lien on our house. We had given him plenty of chances to get us what we deserved and he failed every time. So we fired him. Properly and fairly. Fired him. As in, pick up your tools and get the fuck out of the house that we've already spent way too much on and waited too long for.

At the onset of the lawsuit - I really believed this was a no brainer. I laughed when I saw their claim for amounts in excess of the originally contracted price. I confidently scoffed when our lawyer first suggested we offer a "walk away" settlement of $0 apeice. I cringed when I heard we were going to have to go through the motions of a pretrial. I puked when that failed to deter them and we ended up in mediation. And I postively, absolutely, full-on shit myself when I heard, just yesterday, that our contractors are now going to end up settling prior to our scheduled trial; resulting in a payment to this wretch in the amount of $80K. How did this happen? Two words: his slimeball, scumbag, fat, overly-arrogant, cock-sucking, peice of shit-lawyer, "PS". I'm so mad I can't even write any more. There is really nothing more to say on this topic. Besides - I have something else to rant about.

Nicole Kish is apparently a "good kid". That's according to her defense attorney, John Scarfe. I'll name him as he's already been called out by the press. A "good kid"? My idea of a "good kid" is one who makes her bed, eats her green beans and does her homework. A "good kid" doesn't stab someone multiple times because he didn't hand over his spare change. Ross Hammond is dead. He didn't like being harassed while on vacation. I don't blame him. I live in this sometimes fine city and don't like being confronted by panhandlers who feel that they deserve to get handouts from me for no good reason either.

I appreciate that John Scarfe has a job to do. He is a defense attorney and he needs to provide the best service he can to his client. But since when does and should that include going the extra mile to rub salt in the wounds of the victims? Can you imagine how they would feel waking up to see the picture on the front page of the Toronto Sun? The one that depicts a jovial Nicole, rushing into the arms of her waiting family as she is released on bail? What do you think they would give for just ONE MORE hug from Ross? When does HE get bail? To add insult to greivous injury, do they need to hear that Nicole is a "good kid"? What about Bruce and Connie Hammond's "good kid"?

My stomach now fully churning, my mind furiously whirling I have to end this blog. PS and John Scarfe, how do you sleep at night knowing that you work to improve the lives of the undeserving? How can you look at yourselves and be happy with your lives, knowing full well that you need The Beats?