The Pen Is Mightier...

Since I'm on record as enjoying a good judicial bench-slap, I'd be remiss in not passing this (.pdf) along:

Before proceeding further, the Court notes that this case involves two extremely likable lawyers, who have together delivered some of the most amateurish pleadings ever to cross the hallowed causeway into Galveston, an effort which leads the Court to surmise but one plausible explanation. Both attorneys have obviously entered into a secret pact--complete with hats, handshakes and cryptic words--to draft their pleadings entirely in crayon on the back sides of gravy-stained paper place mats, in the hope that the Court would be so charmed by their child-like efforts that their utter dearth of legal authorities in their briefing would go unnoticed. Whatever actually occurred, the Court is now faced with the daunting task of deciphering their submissions. With Big Chief tablet readied, thick black pencil in hand, and a devil-may-care laugh in the face of death, life on the razor's edge sense of exhilaration, the Court begins.

But, they are extremely cuddly, enjoy long walks on the beach, like teddy bears and ice cream and always tell their mothers that they love them. Sadly, for the offending Esquires, the court was not done with them just yet...

After this remarkably long walk on a short legal pier, having received no useful guidance whatever from either party, the Court has endeavored, primarily based upon its affection for both counsel, but also out of its own sense of morbid curiosity, to resolve what it perceived to be the legal issue presented. Despite the waste of perfectly good crayon seen in both parties' briefing (and the inexplicable odor of wet dog emanating from such) the Court believes it has satisfactorily resolved this matter. . .

At this juncture, Plaintiff retains, albeit seemingly to his befuddlement and/or consternation, a maritime law cause of action versus his alleged [employer]. However, it is well known around these parts that [employer's] lawyer is equally likable and has been writing crisply in ink since the second grade. Some old-timers even spin yarns of an ability to type. The Court cannot speak to the veracity of such loose talk, but out of caution, the Court suggests that Plaintiff's lovable counsel had best upgrade to a nice shiny No. 2 pencil or at least sharpen what's left of the stubs of his crayons for what remains of this heart- stopping, spine-tingling action.

DEEP IN THE HEART OF TEXAS (clap clap clap clap)

This last bit may be offsides:

In either case, the Court cautions Plaintiff's counsel not to run with a sharpened writing utensil in hand--he could put his eye out.

He'll be crying himself to sleep tonight on his huge pillah...

(via Unfogged and LGM. As a commenter at Unfogged added:

All your motion are belong to us. Counsel for both parties are pwned. It is so ordered.

Good god, I'm a dork sometimes...)