One of the great things about moving to a new place is I get to move the age back a couple of years. I’m 23 again and back to sleeping almost exclusively with co-eds. I tell them I graduated law school when I was 19, and hence missed out on the college experience. I tell them law is just a stepping stone for running for office and that my grandfather was a Senator and BAM! I’m back in a twin bed poking a college sophomore who has zero expectations about having an orgasm.  It’s great to be me.

My encyclopedic knowledge of pop-culture, my spikey blonde hair and my electric blue Mustang aren’t the reason I am able to do this.  It’s the physique. I realized the other day I don’t even know how good I look because I am used to seeing myself every day.  I can’t imagine what it must be like for a girl to see me for the first time. I was slow getting out of a conquest’s bed one morning and ended up running into and then sleeping with the roommate, which wouldn’t have been remarkable except for the fact that it started a war between them with each battle getting more and more kinky.

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Even the great Mike Triforce has a learning curve. K Street is not South Street my friends. I can’t just drop the top on my ’stang and fill it with those who turn and smile when I slap their ass. Believe me I tried.

After striking out I was so desperate for ass I almost called the Princess and made her drive down from Philly. But then I know she would have insisted on staying the night. Then I’d wake up with fresh melon and “I love you” written in yogurt. What kind of skank calls that breakfast? Hint: Apply heat to protein. Batter+Butter = good.

All that changed when I got an assignment from the lobbying group and went to the Hill. I recognized a bro from my frat working in one some obscure Congressman’s office and he told me that here money is assumed, and it’s all about power based on your relationships with congressman and White House execs.
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Mikey’s back. Tell a friend! It’s good to be back. Back in an elite law firm and back to my old fighting weight.

Where did I go? To fat town ladies and gentlemen. Let me  explain. Remember however long it was ago that KF Li said he had dirt on me? Well, the dirt was I was faking a bipolar disorder to get worker’s comp and avoid getting laid off. Though the little pricklet never squealed I couldn’t take that chance SO I took a page from Homer Simpson’s book and started to gain massive amounts of weight. This was done not only to create a disability in it’s own right but to reinforce my contention that I indeed was funny in my head.

Now I know the women reading this are weeping. How could such a gorgeous specimen of the male ideal let himself go? That would be like spitting in the face of the Creator. But dear ladies I ask you this: should I have to work?
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I normally don’t participate in discourse of this sort unless there is an immediate and tangible benefit like taking an attractive young coed to bed. I need to work on my conservative asshole shpiel because I had a misfire with a girl I chose because I didn’t have the energy to compete for her more attractive cousin. In reality I just don’t care.

Ok, I make no secret of the fact that if I want something I get it. Alcohol, cars, electronics, travel, premium housing, the latest trends and newest sports equipment…only the best for yours truly, and I have a crushing debt load. I also make no secret of the fact that paying my loans is my absolute lowest priority. I have told stories about gambling with my loan balance for a month just to prove a point. That point is paying my loans is like letting the Princess sleep in the bed after I have defiled her (if she is indeed still capable of being defiled) just because I usually do it doesn’t mean I have to and I am the one in control.

So if my loans magically evaporated I wouldn’t necessarily spend more money. I might, over time, carry a lower credit card balance. Eh.
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Doctor beats Lawyer. I-banker beats Doctor…Lawyer beats I-banker. Wait! Here me out. What do the best I-bankers do? That’s right, white collar crime – Madoff! Madoff! And they either go to jail, or worse, chicken out with money still on the table, never knowing if they have the hottest chick, fastest car or biggest house money can buy. If you’re going to play the game like that please just go live in your mother’s basement and learn to make cucumber sandwiches and Sangria for your mother’s book club.

Ok so what about doctors? They’re chumps. I mean in theory being a doctor should be the highest paying job in the world because what’s more important than human life?

Ha! Human life. It takes doctors until they are well into their thirties to realize that we as a human society don’t value human life for shit. That’s why people in the third world die of shut we cured a hundred years ago while the best and brightest researchers are trying to figure how to regrow hair and prolong erections.

So we come to lawyers. Traditionally they are at the bottom of the professional pyramid…but when was the last time you saw a lawyer go to jail simply for knowingly and repeatedly breaking the law and then getting caught? I can’t think of one either, and as it turns out a of illegal activity is extremely profitable and easy.

Like with the great scam I can’t go into too much detail about the shit I have pulled but I can let you know enough to get some of you out there thinking of ways you too can be as cool and financially awesome as me.

Now in addition to being an attorney I am also an actor and musician. Actors and musicians have certain common attributes including being lazy and good looking. They also tend to commit crimes and know career criminals that is to say individuals who draw their lively hood from breaking the law.

There’s more to it than just drugs though that is number 1. Stolen and counterfeit merchandise is huge. Number 2 is the large, difficult to classify area of grifting and scams.
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So apparently My sexual escapades are not fitting for blog entries. Now, any sensible person will tell you that your choice of life partner has more effect on your financial well being than any other BUT since certain of those among us who are celibant against their will are hating…let’s try a new topic, the art of casual conversation.

When I ask you, peon in Debtor’s Prison, how your day was, how you are doing, etc, the correct answer is “fine.” I don’t care if you just got your arm amputated and your puppy died in a vain attempt to save your mother from a burning building.

Next if I ask you a question you should immediately identify how I am trying to seguay into a conversation about myself. Obviously I don’t care what you think. If you just stare blankly I will eventually launch into a monologue that will amount to talking to myself without the stigma BUT you can create the illusion of dialogue with phrases like “I don’t know what do you think?” I could ask for your frikkin name and that is still the best response you can give.

Next if I ask “Are you around at [such and such time]” the correct response is no response simply wait for me to tell you where to be at that time. Of course you are around, you’re unemployed or underemployed. You have no money therefore no worth therefore no life. But for the pathetic sound of your voice a thank you might be in order.

The point is you are a non-entity. That’s why people talk over you, cut you off or treat your latest contribution to a conversation as if it never happened. The sooner you learn this and start playing by the rules the sooner your life will start to make sense albeit in a tragic sort of way. But buying into the rules has it’s advantages. It’s like hazing. Play by the rules, believe in the rules, work to get to the other side of the coin.

I am tired of this meme going around about the 5 slacker commandments.  First, I am insulted that people keep forwarding it to me.  Are you paying attention?! I invented these.  Second, I am pissed that people keep saying I am the poster boy for this, it’s really a backhanded comment when you think about it.  It’s like telling a woman you like her make up.  You’re not supposed to see or notice make-up.  Same thing with bullshitting your way through a law firm.  But the most important thing here is this simple point:  The 5 “slacker” commandments aren’t ONE way to succeed at a law firm, it’s the ONLY way.  It’s not like I’m cheating at a game I could win if I played straight up and just worked harder.  If I did what people who wish they were me pretend to think I ought to do then there is a 100% chance I end up like Benito.  Let’s review.

1: Look like shit so it looks like you’re working hard

That’s work people.  I look good no matter what.  I look good with stubble, I look good with a beard, I look (especially) good naked, I look good and smell good no matter what I’m wearing or how long I’ve worn it.  I have to do some really filthy shit to look how I look on the average work day. I have to wear alot of sweaters to cover up my shredded six pack.

2: Keep a Filthy Office

Again, this is work.  If you work at a peer firm there are people who clean your office.  And this trick is old.  It’s not even so much that your office is dirty or cluttered, it’s that it’s never static.  The landscape is always changing.  Everything looks different.  This ain’t “Catch Me if You Can,” you have to pull this shit day in and day out for years.

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S’up losers? The following story is too deep for most of you.  In the original post I state there is a message for most of you but I lied.  You can read this and feel morally superior to me if you want OR you can read it with an OPEN MIND (unlike Erin and SG) and thoughtfully consider my position.

If I had to identify one thing that is the foundation of my mental and emotional health it is my concise moral code. I am not going to tell you what it is because that would detract from it’s utility. When you share a moral code wayward lost vulnerable people adopt it, then they debate it, then they try and codify it, etc.

But I will say this, one can think of “morals” as a predisposition – like the child of alcoholics are often predisposed to becoming alcoholics themselves. I am predisposed to experiencing discomfort when I engage in certain activities and I have created a code BASED on these predispositions. Now, I realize this is deep so before I go any further let me state up front: my story is about epic greatness involving a SMOKING hot slam piece Russian chick that I am vacillating about whether to take to poundtown via the Hershey Highway BUT it’s relevant to you pions as well because it can teach you how to avoid this “shame” phenomenon Benito writes so much about.
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As far as I’m concerned the show should be called One and a Half Men…and Charlie Sheen is that one and a half.  Charlie Sheen gets alot of attention for being the (former) highest paid TV actor. Who cares? TV is for losers, it’s like contract work in the legal world. That’s not what makes Sheen rich. Sheen is rich because he has so much damn time on his hands. You have this wealth of time too, and in a similar environment of zero accountability, easy access to drugs and loose women…where showing up for work for two hours a day does actually induce others to give you kudos.  This place is called Academia.  Let me put it another way.  What does the best law school in the country (Yale) produce? Law Professors.  Why? Law Professors aren’t rich after all (though they make more money than most of us ever will).  The reason is that in academia you have TIME and ZERO ACCOUNTABILITY.

Trust me on this one.  As a bro I competed with law professors to take slam pieces to pound town all the time.  I had to let a number of the professors see me take pictures of them with my phone in order to scare them away from my prey.  Also as an actor, even I pass up most opportunities for pilots in favor of small roles in films and the occasional commercial.  Why? Look at the Mac Book kid.  He hocs computers for a couple of years and suddenly he’s standing next to Bruce Willis in Die Hard 4.  Ever see that kid on “How I Met Your Mother?” Hell no.

This is supposed to be one of those rare uplifting posts.  Work with me kids.

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This is for my peeps who are pimps first and professionals second – the type of slick mothers who can hop on a plane to a country where they can’t speak the language with only the clothes on their back and spend three months with the type of women suicide bombers dream about.

This is also in response to Sweet Hot Justice who wrote a piece “Biglaw Bros: Why Slam Pieces DON’T Want You.” The article can be found here

http://www.sweethotjustice.com/2011/03/01/biglaw-bros-why-slam-pieces-dont-want-you/

and reposted on ATL here

http://abovethelaw.com/2011/03/biglaw-bros-why-slam-pieces-don%E2%80%99t-want-you/

Basically SHJ says that dimes aren’t interested because at the end of the day even the most successful lawyer doesn’t make shit compared to a finance guy and law just ain’t sexy.  And you know what? She’s right.  But dimes want you anyway.  Why? Let me explain.

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