"Don't you be hating on anybody," my mom used to say, usually right before smacking me on the back of the head with her Enquirer and making me see double for a hour. Well she dont have to worry about me hating on anybody anymore does she? But lawyers are an acception. Their like a barrel of bad apples if you ask me. This guy Strock puts his feet up on the desk which is one step away from talking to me on the john in my opinion. He drinks water from a botle and wears a bow tie and suspenders like he's the worlds most expensive rodeo clown. And then to top it off hes got some kind of phone you cant see stuck behind his ear so when I walk in and he says "What did you do now?" and I start in to telling him about the deal down in BA and why I had to leave he says "Hey Goober! I'm on the horn!" He dindt even hear me say "Its Ruben with an R" because he was already talking again to some lady named Bernice and whatever she's saying he's not happy about it because he said "Bite me, Bernice" like three times in a row. And he must of hung up, however you do it with a phone that hangs behind your ear, cause he says to me, "So what's your problem?" like I was waiting in line behind Bernice with a base ball bat. So I start in with the story of the I-thought 18 year old girl in BA and her father who stuck me in the thigh with one of those long bar b q forks right through my bermuda shorts and then chasd me down the street with a leaf blower. I felt like stopping to see exactly what he had in mind to do with it, but I didnt. Long story short, I got some kind of a extra diction notice in the mail which i what I came to see this Strock guy for. And you know what he says to me? "Can you get me any skeetch?" And when I just stare at him he says "you know, dummy dust? Bugger sugar? Jenny Crankenstein? Methamfriendsofmine? Wake up, Alfalfa!" Well needles to say I walked out of there. I done my share of bad things but I draw the line in the sand about drugs. so tonight Im going to hit the Jim Beam.