M'fer at law--a worthy nickname (part II because there's more than one)

And the motherfucker-at-law just so happens to be in the same office in Sacramento, which is basically the ass crack of California in the midst of explosive diarrhea. I'm not kidding. I had to go out to that fucking place.

And the guy who is the subject of this post. I had to meet with the fucker. He had (has) all the charm of a decaying possum where the scent blows up in your face from the scalding hot street while you’re on a long run. It hits you harder than a redneck woman trying for a husband. Actually, that's all better than dealing with this little fuck. He's like a bowling ball with a face full of butt hair for a beard. Actually, butt hair has a softer texture. I don't know where this guy's facial hair comes from, but it's nasty. 

Okay...so despite this guy looking weirder than banjo boy on Deliverance he's worse in person and downright sadistic via email. This merry band of ambulance chasers let this fucker meet with clients. He should be left in a basement in a cage never to see the light. He's the un-client service lawyer. He's where all good things go to die.

This fucker is a sucking, black void who is a rip in the fabric of reality.

I'll say more later, but I am pushing back from my keyboard as I contemplate the succubus created by this clown. A guy can only take so much.

Here's the fucker (from New Jersey), but he's more radioactive than any toxic waste up there.