A Life as a High Priced Attorney-And a Junkie Sex Addict

By a9inchcock

This Story Is True....I Know So, Because I Lived Every Stomach Churning, Soul Crushing Minute of It

I was inspired to write this biopic mess after seeing these recent posts on Steem:

• "The uncomfortable truth about being a Professional Truck Driver in the United States - An in depth analysis of the life of a trucker!".  As of this writing, Truck Drivin’ Man’s vapid post has generated for him and his kinfolk, an amazingly stupefying STM$5,602.06.  Currently, his Steem$ are worth BTC 12.43567 on Poloinex (a crypto and alt-currency exchange) or roughly USD $8,406.39.   

You mean to tell me that any asshat with an Internet connection and a device as simple as a fucking $10.00 burner smartphone can make nearly $10,000 a day by describing--in horribly sleep inducing detail--a day in the life of a fucking truck driver.  Sure some of it shows his lack of business sense and tugs at the Ole heart strings of some readers, but c’mon Truck Drivin’ Man, life’s rough—get a fucking helmet.  Nearly $10k for this?  Where the fuck do I sign on to capture the tears of this Unicorn?

Maybe if he were a porn star, astronaut stranded on Pluto (or whatever letter/number combination they’ve renamed it now), Elon Musk, or even a Baldwin brother.   That was posted yesterday and he's at nearly S$6,000--this place is fucking insane.  In a good way.   And while his story can be a bit eyebrow raising at times, it's neither earth-shattering nor really all that interesting a read.

Cheese and rice, I've got stories about smoking and snorting heroin and cocaine (kiddie speedballs) in the spacious men’s bathroom stalls of Federal Courthouses in various locations throughout the U.S.—not as a defendant in some federal criminal matter.  Fuck no, I was there as an $200-400/hour attorney defending Fortune 500 clients.  Stories of fucking the hot older MILF attorney in conference rooms, offices, and, of course, the good old bathroom stall....finger fucking her dripping pussy under the table during a deposition.  Then there's  the embarrassing, unflattering side of rampant substance abuse and addiction: shitting oneself, pissing oneself whilst sleeping with a very beautiful, funny, smart, sexy woman--you will neither see nor talk to this woman again.....poof; but you did get to fuck the hottest MILF in a law firm's mother ship (main office) with probably 1200+ employees and attorneys...and maybe 10 certified MILFs in the pool of 600+ women.  But then again, you shit, pissed and puked on yourself.  I'd take mulligan on those thing over banging the Law MILF eight days a week and 5-19 times on Sunday.

Well, IMFHO these TRUE stories have got to be at least 25% as interesting as Keep on Trucking’s.  And let’s just clear this up right now:  this is not a “Fictography.”   This is not the Steem version of the Oprah’s Book Club of Lies Selection, “A Million Little Pieces”.  No, anyone that knows me personally and actually reads this will know exactly who I am.  It’s not a Shatoshi Nakamoto sit-e-a-ton here.  In order to protect the truly innocent: my wife, my ex-wife, my mom and dad, brother and sister and six nephews, I’m going to continue writing this under my pseudonym, a.k.a. my steemit.com username, a.k.a. my go to porn site login/username.  The average Steemit.com user could probably figure out exactly who I am within the commercial portions of an episode of “Keeping Up With The Kardashians.”   [Side note, I believe their father, the late Robert Kardashian is not spinning, but actually break-dancing and popping and locking in his grave over the sheer jejuneness of his progeny.   

(See, e.g. jejune, adjective UK  /dʒəˈdʒuːn/ US  /dʒəˈdʒuːn/ formal disapproving

(1) very simple or childish: “He made jejune generalizations about how all students   were lazy and never did any work.”

(2) boring and not interesting : “a jejune lecture by one of our professors.”  

(3) without or lacking any redeeming value

The facts contained herein are by no means secret nor are they being revealed here for the first time.  People that know me professionally or personally or both, know that every single act proving the stupidity of mankind I write about below is true (or just my own brand of dunce cap wearing assclown: a generous portion of Retardo Mantalban-like imbecilic behavior, mixed with some Steven Segalesque overconfidence).  Every embarrassing, sad, fucktardian thing I write about herein, is, within a standard deviation or two (give me a break, I was high on heroin, coke, benzos, occasionally speed and MDMA [side note: actually, ecstasy is basically Methamphetamine all dressed up in a sexy name].  

Doing some quick and dirty calculations, that should make my dark, depraved, sad, retarded stories worth roughly STM$1,400.51.  Fuck me running with scissors, that would be like capturing and harvesting the tears of a herd of unicorns. Or is it a harem, or band, or string or as I ran this through “The Google” one comedian’s reply to “what is a group of horses called?”  Answer: “a weight watchers meeting.”  I just about wet myself and I don’t know why—likely extreme sleep deprivation.  

Or are Unicorns transsexual or hermaphroditic like Tom Cruise.  Who, incidentally starred in a movie about unicorns entitled “Legend.”  It’s the one film he will not speak of and denies its very existence.   He wears tight green tights throughout this classic.

Beginning my career as an associate attorney and eventually becoming an equity partner, practicing in the Business and Intellectual Property Litigation Groups at the law firm of Huge, Huge and Large LLP*.  (*names have been changed to protect the guilty).  

I got high on my John Belushi/Chris Farley – Lite version of the speedball (a mixture of heroin and cocaine). Speedballs are generally injected, but being that I had to wear white dress shirts, I didn’t think blood seeping through the arms of said shirts would look very good to a jury, judge, or FBI or DEA agent that frequented the same Courthouses as me) Chicago, Milwaukee, Minneapolis, Philadelphia, and some smaller personal opium dens/shooting galleries/crack houses like the United State District Court for the Western District of Wisconsin located in progressive and tolerant Madison, Wisconsin.  

• Then there is this Steem post: which seemed, at a quick first glance at the title, downright strange, boring, and painful: "Sex Addiction And The Mid-Level Wal-Mart Executive.  [Spoiler] RANT AHEAD [Spoiler]  I firmly believe that ANYTHING involving Wal-Mart is going to result in some form of pain, whether you are an employee, customer/shopper, or the 70-ish year-old man, living out his "golden years" as a Wal-Mart greeter,  summarily terminated for "grazing" on a snack he was standing in line to purchase on his break.  Apparently, Wal-Mart has a well-defined policy of considering all grazing of food items a criminal offense--shoplifting.  Now I know from personal experience that they would never arrest a customer because (1) I graze the shit out of Bomb Pops, Cookies, Beverages, and anything else that can assist me in wading through the cesspool of humanity that constitutes the customer base at my local Wal-Mart in Phoenix.  It recently led me to post this Facebook status update while embedded by my wife in the Mogadishu meets Tijuana like war zone/Retardo Mantalban Fucktardery that IS my local Wal-Mart but it highlights the only pro on my pro/con list of reasons to shop at Wal-Mart:

Please Hold and Listen to This 9 Hour Flute Solo While I Get Some Sack Time -- Part 2 (The Good Stuff) To Follow.