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Okay, for years we've had this local advertisement out of Longview for this lawyer whose trademark is this ridiculous hat - it's some sort of leather fedora that is too small for his head. In every commercial he tops off a rather nice suit with this odd, poorly-fitted, headgear and exclaims, "You can trust the man in the hat!" Seriously folks, I don't want a lawyer who can't dress himself. I'm a far cry from a clothing expert, but I know enough to realize that this hat looks stupid as hell. Why doesn't he just cut to the chase and go with a beanie; you know, the kind that has a propeller? Seriously, why is this man wearing a stupid hat for a commercial? What is his target audience? Has anyone actually thought "well, I was thinking of hiring that successful lawyer out of Dallas, but, what the hell, I think I'll take the moron in the poor excuse for an Indian Jones hat." If it was a cowboy hat it would at least make sense. Yes, it would still look stupid, but, since this is Texas, a cowboy hat would at least fit a theme. But no, lets go with a tiny brown fedora.
This morning I saw a commercial on CNN where this nicely dressed lady was talking about her law firm. Her hair looked like a colony of rats had spent the night building a nest in it. It made me wonder if she wasn't somehow angling for the same market niche - people who are looking for lawyers with screwed up heads.
Seriously, what is the deal? I have a friend who went through law school a few years back - they aren't giving those degrees away on the back of cereal boxes. You have to be pretty damn sharp to get a degree in law. Maybe I'm missing something.
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Once upon a time I used to be good at video games. In high school I had one of them hot Intelivision game system. That's right, no Atari for me. Well, my buddy Ory bought an Xbox and we played two players this afternoon. Bless his heart, the boy has the patience of a saint. If you could have overheard this is what you would have heard Ory saying,
". . . No really, you're doing pretty good. Okay now cover me. No me, cover me. Don't shoot me; cover me or they'll get me. Okay, they got me. Just move over to me and press the X button. Move to your right. No, your other right. Okay, now left. Now Right. Stop! See that bloody mass at your feet. Yes, the one you keep shooting. Okay, press the X button and it will heal me. That's the B button. That's the A button. That's redial on you cell phone. There. Now cover me so they won't get me. Okay, they got me. Move over to me. No, don't shoot me . . . "
- then, thirty minutes later -
". . . no, really, you're doing pretty good . . . "
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