Why Trump’s Tough-As-Nails Man Lawyer Is Undefeatable

Donald Trump is bringing out the big guns to defend himself in the Russian situation which he reassures us doesn’t even prevail. Trump’s knight in gleaming armor is septuagenarian defense attorney John Dowd, who’s like your grandpa if your grandpa was a pissed-off homunculus forged from every Alpha Beta in the 1987 classic Revenge Of The Nerds .

Coming out of the barrier flee, or at least limp in a very determined sort, Dowd is described as an ex-marine who may or may not have helped our country at Verdun. The first excerpt in this Reuters commodity is “I fight hard-boiled, ” because that’s what old mortals in clothings in courtrooms do. He goes on to say “this is war, and I will demolish you, ” like the devil of late-‘9 0s RPG that didn’t get be converted into English so well. Suffice it to suggests, he seeks to vanquished his enemies and to discover the lamentations of their women, the latter of which he will do pro bono.

Dowd is 6’4″ tall, a fact we are aware because the essay told you so while never explaining why you need to know that about a advocate. They use words like “no-holds barred” and “attack” when describing how he works. Again, as a advocate. Have you ever been to law? Even Law& Order could, at its coolest, merely pay us Sam Waterston. That’s best available story can offer. Real-life court is as action-packed as falling asleep on the toilet. Or it was, until Dowd got on the stage with his harsh desegregate of jurisprudence and courtroom capoeira. Oh, did you have an dissent? Well be prepared to keep a shattered prickle, you crap-shack of a human. You exactly started Dowd for the tally!

Dowd has accused reporters of whoring for the prosecution, and has given them the paw. The digit! Maybe the middle one, because this pissed-off granddad isn’t taking any goddamn sass from shitheel reporters. Fuck no. He’s thoughts into the courtroom wearing a King-Kong-Bundy-style one-shoulder-strap unitard, and he’ll boot-fuck justice right down James Comey’s throat before suplexing Robert Mueller onto the shattered bodies of who the fuck knows, probably Obama and Hillary.

Every day, John Dowd wakes up and tongue-fucks Lady Liberty ’til she’s good and swoony, then picks up 50 lbs of right in an Old-Glory-themed tote bag from the White House gift shop, before doing 1,000 reps on each arm until he’s so vascular you can see the blood-red, white, and blood nectar scurrying through his veins.

via Business Insider
“YOU WANNA THROW DOWD ?! YOU WANNA THROW DOWD ?! ”

John Dowd wears finely chipped dress made from the tissue of asshole prosecutors who dared perform look linked with him and were vaporized on the spot by his fiery legalese. “This is war, and I will overcome you! ” Why anyone dares step into a courtroom with Dowd has been studied for over 50 years by anthropologists, and they’re no closer to achieving any sort of logical know. John Dowd fucks his rivals so hard that their mothers can’t even sit down properly for the next day and a half. He’s 6’4″ , motherfucker! Have you ever stacked white-hot justice that high without having it perforates a hole straight-shooting through your sternum so it could wear you as a goddamn hat? Fuck no! FUUUUCCCKKKK NOOOO !!!

John Dowd dares anyone to even mull the word “Russia” within three bricks of him. If his spider smell gets to tickling, if you even have a beverage rained made from vodka, he will fucking windsprint like a PCP-addled gibbon through traffic, horde, and goddamn windows to hurl you like a idolatrous sacrifice into the roiling craters of his justice volcano. This is not a goddamn competition. THIS. IS. WAR.

Emory Law
“I regulation like I fuck: HARD.”

“I is no longer a snowflake, I can tell you that, ” replies Dowd, maybe while feasting directly from the inside of a grizzly bear he suffocated with his own dick. The section briefly cheapens into talk of actual court-type material, but it is only meant to lull you into a fraudulent gumption of security before we get back to Michael Bay Presents: Lawyer, as Dowd and the writer continue to hammer home the idea that this is not a 76 -year-old man who should, statistically voicing, be dead, but a goddamn unstoppable troop of nature. They say he’ll be a “ferocious follower of the President, ” because he literally dine that bear’s someone and gained its superpowers! Six foot fucking four inches! You know how towering James Comey is? Six hoofs under, bitches!

Is the work requires that this old, old-fashioned, old person be presented as what would happen if Rambo and Clarence Darrow had a baby? Yes. Because too many action heroes these days are based on Marvel Comics. What the hell is an Iron Man? That shit isn’t real. What is real is Grampy Dowd and his tough-as-nails approach to habeas corpus .

Expect to see Dowd in tribunal rending his shirt off and putting every Democrat within Camel Clutch range into the throes of sorenes and dishonour, because that is how good lawyering is done. Fuckin’ research? Well-thought controversies? Precedent? Goddamn evidence? Do you even rule, bro? Have you making such a sugared legal increases? WHY DON’T YOU EAT SOME MORE OF THESE STRAINED PEAS, YOU FUCKING NANCY BABY? WHY DON’T YOU DIE IN A HOUSE FIRE TO PRESERVE A SHRED OF YOUR DIGNITY? GGGRAAAGHHHH !!!! L-AAWWWWWW !!!!!

John Dowd. Remember the mention, geeks. He’s succeeding, and right is coming with him.

Be sure to check out our new Cracked Podcast miniseries, “Looking The Part, ” in which Soren Bowie and Daniel O’Brien are dissecting pop-culture’s greatest whiskers, blemishes and tattoos. Listen to part one HERE and catch personas two and three in the Cracked Podcast feed upon Apple Podcasts or wherever you get your podcasts .

 

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