Donald Trump is bringing out the big guns to defend himself in the Russian situation which he assures us doesn't even exist. Trump's knight in shining 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 gate running, or at least hobbling in a very determined manner, Dowd is described as an ex-marine who may or may not have served our country at Verdun. The first quote in this Reuters article is "I fight hard," because that's what old men in suits in courtrooms do. He goes on to say "this is war, and I will defeat you," like the villain of late-'90s RPG that didn't get translated into English so well. Suffice it to say, he seeks to crush his enemies and to hear the lamentations of their women, the latter of which he will do pro bono.
Dowd is 6'4" tall, a fact we know because the article says so while never explaining why you need to know that about a lawyer. They use words like "no-holds barred" and "attack" when describing how he works. Again, as a lawyer. Have you ever been to court? Even Law & Order could, at its coolest, only give us Sam Waterston. That's the best fiction can offer. Real-life court is as action-packed as falling asleep on the toilet. Or it was, until Dowd got on the scene with his brutal mix of jurisprudence and courtroom capoeira. Oh, did you have an objection? Well get ready to sustain a broken spine, you crap-shack of a human. You just went Dowd for the count!
Dowd has accused reporters of whoring for the prosecution, and has given them the finger. The finger! Probably the middle one, because this pissed-off grandpa isn't taking any goddamn sass from shitheel reporters. Fuck no. He's heading 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 corpses 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 justice 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 red, white, and blood nectar rushing through his veins.
via Business Insider
"YOU WANNA THROW DOWD?! YOU WANNA THROW DOWD?!"
John Dowd wears finely cut suits made from the flesh of asshole prosecutors who dared make eye contact with him and were vaporized on the spot by his fiery legalese. "This is war, and I will defeat 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 understanding. John Dowd fucks his opponents 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 punch a hole straight through your sternum so it could wear you as a goddamn hat? Fuck no! FUUUUCCCKKKK NOOOO!!!
John Dowd dares anyone to even think the word "Russia" within three blocks of him. If his spider sense gets to tingling, if you even have a drink poured made from vodka, he will fucking windsprint like a PCP-addled gibbon through traffic, crowds, and goddamn windows to hurl you like a pagan sacrifice into the roiling pits of his justice volcano. This is not a goddamn game. THIS. IS. WAR.
"I law like I fuck: HARD."
"I am not a snowflake, I can tell you that," says Dowd, possibly while feasting directly from the inside of a grizzly bear he strangled with his own dick. The article briefly degrades into talk of actual court-type stuff, but it is only meant to lull you into a false sense 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 speaking, be dead, but a goddamn unstoppable force of nature. They say he'll be a "ferocious defender of the President," because he literally ate that bear's soul and gained its powers! Six foot fucking four inches! You know how tall James Comey is? Six feet under, bitches!
Is it necessary that this old, old, old man 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 court ripping his shirt off and putting every Democrat within Camel Clutch range into the throes of pain and humiliation, because that is how good lawyering is done. Fuckin' research? Well-thought arguments? Precedent? Goddamn evidence? Do you even law, bro? Have you made any sweet legal gains? 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!!!! LAAAAAAAWWWWWW!!!!!
John Dowd. Remember the name, nerds. He's coming, and justice is coming with him.
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