So I'm looking at all this different shit to find out how we're gonna tax-treat this escrow, and none of this shit makes any sense to me. I check my facebook a few times...I'm thinkin damn that Katie Kadue lookin sexy sexy...and then it comes to me...I remember Joe Bankman's sage words: "When all else fails, Bitker and Eustice..." Eustika!
I head down to the Tax Library and have Thomas (no is no Thomas is Thomas!) photocopy the two pages of escrow shit from Bitker for me and come back to my desk. Bullshit! Worthless! I get so angry that I close my door and have an all out, extended nose-picking session, wiping boogers all over the Bitker.
An hour later, I remember something else Joe Bankman or Atticus Finch or somebody said: "Law is all about analogy..." I look at the Bitker again, and there it is, right under a greeny...Eustika! At first I try to ignore it...naw, naw that ain't it...but it is. It's as good an answer as I'm going to find...and it's boogered the fuck up!
Now, you have to understand: I hate Thomas. Plus the 25-story plunge to the tax floor makes me a little bit more constipated every time I have to make it. I frantically chisel away at the boogers, re-wiping them on yesterday's WSJ...
But the stains will not come clean!
But wait! I can photocopy it! Gets the stains right out! Eustika!
I haven't used the photocopier yet...Nina does that shit for me. (she's my secretary...how hard?!) But I can't have Nina do this one. I mosey over to the photocopier with the Bitker rolled up like a Playboy, slide it on, press the button, tray jammed. Fuck! What the fuck does that mean?!
Nina: Mapoo are you trying to make a copy?
BA: Um, yea Nina I really didn't want to bother you.
Nina: Am I pronouncing your name right?
BA: I mean, languages have different phonologies...
Nina: Tray jammed? Oh this stupid thing! (opens tray)
Whatever, thug life...she probably just thought it was cum stains...girls think that's hott.