[Ed. note: This post is authored by ATL guest columnist Hope Winters. Hope is an early retired lawyer, turned Senate staffer, turned corporate lobbyist. She lives in Washington, DC. Read her previous work here. Read part I of this piece here.]

After this dinner I'm still starving from, we hop into the car to drive to the purported "private" room we paid extra for. Now I'm really starting to believe murder or rape is a foregone conclusion. I attract criminals like Jewish men attract Asian girls. And here's the thing, there's nothing to stop anyone from doing anything. We're not allowed to lock either our door nor the front door to the Brady Brunchesque house we will be staying in tonight. Our "private" room is in this house. I said a private room. Like hotel room. Not a room in some random family's house. Not some room I'm not allowed to lock.

As I enter the spacious open living room containing a lot blue mats and a lot small purple chairs for meditation, I find a DVD player. Excellent. Civility. I'll just do my Denise Austin Yoga for Abs video and skip class tomorrow. It's almost pitch black in the room because not only do these people not eat, they don't do electricity.

I walk over to the big glass window peering out over the water -- trying to find the lake, and then, I hear this boy's voice.

"Hey." I turn around quickly.

Plaid flannel shirt. Black wire rimmed glasses. Scruffy beard. Red North Face jacket. So Ted Bundy.

I have met my maker.

Can Hope survive her first encounter with Ashram men? Non-homicidal details after the jump.

[Ed. note: This post is authored by ATL guest columnist Hope Winters. Hope is an early retired lawyer, turned Senate staffer, turned corporate lobbyist. She lives in Washington, DC. Read her previous work here.]

Well, as I told you in my last piece, I have been desperately searching for inner peace during these incredibly depressing times.

I decided, however, that I needed to amp up my desire for such peace. Meditation class was increasingly becoming too easy, and I was now ready to become a guru of inner peace. So, my friend Olivia and I packed up our car, left the comforts of our urban existence, and headed out to the great unknown. The Ashram.

I had found the Ashram online. It was a place where we could find balance, do yoga, and eat organic vegetarian meals. And it was dirt cheap, to boot. Girls, in case you missed the Times piece, ashrams are the new spas. We all have to cut back now. And isn't it about time we work on our insides instead of outsides? Don't worry. Those saddle bags are going to whittle away anyway due to scarce food supplies forecasted for fourth quarter '09.

"I didn't know it was a silent retreat all weekend. I thought that was just on Saturday." Olivia, already breaking the rules, whispers to me upon arrival.

Oops. I forgot to shepardize this case. I don't recall reading that part on the website.

More after the jump.

We've written before about a unique perk for the attorneys in Venable's D.C. office. Like many firms, the office has a rooftop with amazing views of the nation's capital. Unlike most firms, it also has a rooftop bocce court.

The bocce balling and Venable's representation of Michael Jackson led us to ask at the time whether the firm is DC's weirdest. We hear the attorneys there were actually thrilled with the superlative.

Venable is proud of its bocce ball and touts its annual bocce tournament on its diversity page. This year's tournament took place earlier this month. We came across an account of the bocce showdown:

Friday June 5 was the annual Bocce Happy Hour Kickoff. We take our Bocce Seriously - 64 teams in a "March madness" format. there are lots of rules, heckling, trash talking, and a prize. usually a month of free parking ($230) and your name inscribed on the Sir Francis Drake Trophy Cup. It's big. oh AND you "get" to be Commissioner of the Tournament the following summer.

This year, the "Commissioner" decided to combine bocce March Madness with an American Idolish singing competition. Some of the bocce ballers got dressed up for their serenades, including "one guy dress[ed] up as Susan Boyle" who sang "Memories." It sounds painful to us, but our narrator swears it was fun.

Read the full account of the bocce balling, karaoke singing, alcohol-fueled tournament, after the jump.

"Not wanting to push her too fast, he rode her easy.... She got hot and wet, but too wet."

That sounds like something you'd find in the pages of a soft-core porn novel. But no, instead you'll find it in the non-sexily titled "MarineMax's Motion To Dismiss Count X of Plaintiffs Second Amended Complaint," filed in the Southern District of Florida last week.

Michael Krieger of Clear Marine Ventures has filed a breach of contract suit against boatmaker Brunswick Corporation and a host of other characters -- including MarineMax -- involved in the maintenance of his boat. MarineMax's defense attorney, Jack Kallen, decided to have some fun in describing the nature of Krieger's relationship with his sea vessel.

A footnote claims that the motion "is not intended or meant to titillate, but illuminate the unique relationship that an individual has with a vessel and the special, discriminating and demanding wants and needs of a wealthy individual, who was disappointed and dismayed with his purchase." But titillate it does. Here's an excerpt, via the Southern District of Florida Blog:

He first saw the model on line and in a promotional brochure (para. 13-15).... Her glossy exterior, sculpted body, sophistication, bloodlines, not to mention the accolades of how she could perform, intrigued him, piqued his curiosity (para. 13-15; Exs A. and B. to second amended complaint). Needless to say, he needed to know more, meet her, ride her. He was excited (para. 22).

Suitable arrangements were made. Not wanting to push her too fast, he rode her easy (para. 36, 37). With her prominent front pushed up, her rear somewhat down, her performance was somewhat hesitant and resistant. But he was told she was a maiden, that he'd be her first owner (para. 40, 47).

We called the motion's author, Jack Kallen, to find out why he decided to pen such a smutty motion. We told him we thought it was funny. "I hope the judge does too," he replied. Read on, after the jump.

I had no idea (and evidently neither did Perkins Coie) that today was supposed to be a special day for lawyers. But apparently April 14 is the one day out of the year that people are supposed to be nice to lawyers.

There's even an entire website dedicated to the day. The site even has some "starter ideas" on what you can do to participate in this glorious event:

*Take your favorite lawyer out to breakfast or lunch (make sure it's not billable!).
*Send your lawyer a "just because" greeting card or a bouquet of flowers.
*Switch your ring tone to the "dah-dah" sound from NBC's "Law & Order."
*Do some simple repairs around the house with a gavel instead of your trusty hammer.

Or how about paying your legal bills, so lawyers can stop being laid off?

After the jump, we reach to Steve Hughes, creator of the site (and the day), for details about how National Be Kind to Lawyers Day came to be.

Is something going down at McKee Nelson today? A tipster reports that there is a surprise, all-attorney video conference scheduled for 1:30 today.

Managing partner William Nelson announced the meeting succinctly via firm-wide email this morning:

There will be an all attorney meeting at 1:30PM.

Recently, these mystery meetings have been held to release good news. In September, Covington & Burling held a surprise meeting to announce the acquisition of Heller Ehrman's IP department (admittedly, that was not good news for Heller Ehrman). Last month, Jenner & Block held one to reassure associates (shortly before a number of partners were let go).

Okay... so these meetings aren't always "good news," but they have been "good spin."

What does the future hold for McKee Nelson? Well, one of their biggest clients is JPMorgan Chase, one of the only banks left standing. Things can't be too bad, right?

We'll let you know where the chips fall.

Update (2:15): McKee Nelson confirmed that they laid off 17 associates and 15 staffers today. Read additional coverage here.

Earlier: Jenner & Block's Mystery Meeting
Musical Chairs: Covington & Burling Snaps Up Heller's IP Department
Layoff Update: Jenner & Block

Heller Ehrman continues to stave off involuntary bankruptcy, despite not being able to pay employees their accrued vacation time. But Heller's breakup continues to take weird twists.

The latest bizarre news comes from Seattle, where some associates have wondered whether they are about to be evicted from their offices. Tension was so high that Heller management had to send around a clarification email:

TO ALL HANDS (SEATTLE):

I have heard various rumors in the hallways to the effect that the Seattle office will close imminently and therefore that everyone needs to move out pronto. To clarify, here is the status.

The landlord has not issued a notice to vacate. If such a notice were issued, the notice period would be ten days. For reasons too long to explain, we overpaid rent throughout 2008. When those overpayments came to our attention, the firm asked that they be applied to cover (completely) the October rent obligation. The landlord has since asserted that the overpayments instead should be applied toward a fee that was due in connection with our give-back of space on 58. The Dissolution Committee is working with our outside counsel and communicating with the landlord to hopefully resolve this issue, and to clarify with the landlord any issues relating to removal of property from our space. To the best of my knowledge, closure of this office is not imminent and the date of closure remains to be determined, based on the pace of collections versus ongoing costs and also based on the banks' decisions about what spending they will approve.

A law firm on the edge of solvency "overpaid" their rent? We hope that the explanation for this oversight is too long and difficult to get into, but we wonder if it is just too embarrassing.

Meanwhile, the Heller refugees that ended up at Covington have officially started .

Associates that we are speaking to say that it is just starting to sink in that they will be out of a job soon. Hopefully the Seattle associates will get as much time as possible to come to grips with this reality, instead of showing up at the office one day only to find locks on the door.

Update: The Blog of the LegalTimes reports that Arnold & Porter has picked up the latest Heller refugees. The big fish is Kenneth Chernof, Heller's managing partner in the D.C. office. Any associates coming along for the ride?

Homeless In Seattle? [Heller Highwater]
Heller partners join Covington & Burling [Business Journal]
Arnold & Porter Picks Up Heller Partners [The BLT: Blog of the LegalTimes]

Earlier: Anatomy of a Dissolution: BoA & Citi Tell Heller Ehrman There's No Money For Vacation Time

* If you lie to get sex -- and succeed -- is that rape? [Volokh Conspiracy]

* What are the best case names ever? [Supreme Dicta]

* I'm still waiting for somebody to give me one good reason for the third year of law school. Anyone? All of my loan repayment checks say, "For 1L year only." (Yes. The vast majority of them bounce). [The Shark]

* What to watch for during today's associate video conference at Heller Ehrman. [Heller Highwater]

[Ed Note: This is the third and final installment in the Curious Case of Randy, a rather eccentric law firm partner. You can read Part 1 over here and Part 2 over here.]

Weeks pass, and Randy continues to be randy. Stopping by my office no less than three times a day. Gawking at the summer associates as they get their lunches downstairs. I kind of just check out.

I decide to ignore him, figuring that eventually he'll go away. I do, however, find myself staring at his chest each time he comes in and interrupts me. I'm looking for milk. Or the emergence of breasts. But I don't recall seeing anything. I think the pills must have gotten that problem under control -- but not the other thing. He's so antsy and manic -- sometimes I thought he might start touching himself in my office. Anyway, here it comes, and I'm not lying.

Several weeks later, as February approached -- the month that I have always contended is the cruelest month (not April, as T.S. Eliot alleges) -- Valentine's season begins. I tend to ignore all this heart/love crap because I think it's stupid. I was never one to send out Valentine's Day cards, even in elementary school. I rejected it. I mean, I can barely say I love you to my parents or my boyfriend; I'm certainly not going to say it to some random person. And I doubt my meatball (non-lawyer, a big plus) boyfriend will do anything anyway.

So I walk into my office at 9:00 a.m., maybe 9:30 actually, on February 14th. There is a large, blood orange, inter-office envelope on top of my desk. I figure it's my expense report or the report of my billable hours, which I haven't met for two months. As I open it, however, a pink something falls out. I turn it over. It is a homemade Valentine, constructed out of pale pink construction paper, topped with an old-school white doily, and on it, there is a poem written by a dark purple crayon. My first thought is, how cute; it must be from my partner's daughter, Rose.

Find out what the poem is about, after the jump.

[Ed Note: Yesterday we learned that Hope's partner pal, Randy, was taking testosterone pills to treat his "lactating man-boobs." Today we learn about the downside of hormonal supplements.]

"Testosterone pills? Like, how many do you have to take?"

"Well, right now three. One with every meal."

I wanted to end this conversation and finish the bloody filing so I could go out and get wasted.

"Well, I hope it helps and you feel better soon!" I gathered my papers and stared at my laptop.

"Well, my chest isn't hurting as much, but there's this other problem."

Good Lord.

"What?"

"Well..." Randy leaned forward and whispered, "I can't stop thinking about sex. I'm like obsessed with it. I can't do my work. It's all I think about -- I feel like I've turned into a teenage boy again."

Okay, this is weird. Really weird. And, weird is what I sought to escape. I found myself longing for the hairy armpits, unbuckled trousers, and pool parties back at Pants Down.

"I mean... I can't even go to lunch in public without staring at every girl that walks by."

This proved to be true. I later witnessed this at a lunch with some summer associates. Each time a remotely attractive girl walked by, his neck moved more rapidly than the ducks I fed stale bread to at our lake house. Clearly he was hungry -- and not shy.

"Well, I really think you need to talk to your doctor about this. Maybe they can lower the medication."

"Well, he has lowered it. Still. All I think about its sex! Even my wife is sick of me -- I want it like three times a day." My mind flashed back to the photo of the blond trophy wife on his desk. Please. She probably doesn't even want to do it with him three times a year.

"I'm really sorry about your problem. But, I do have to get this filing done in an hour."

I get him out of my office -- and fast. I mean, what does he want me to do here? Service him? Well, he can try the self-service island. I wanted to tell him to go whack off and leave me alone.

Hope tries to finish the task at hand, after the jump.

First of all, never ever shoot your cerebellum up with botulism two days before a deadline. God. My head hurts. Yet, I rise ...

Here we go.

"Listen, go work somewhere where people like you... I mean, really like you. Then, you can screw up, and it doesn't even matter. Hope, just go somewhere where people like you, and you'll be in. Nothing else matters."

Sage advice given to me from a senior associate at the Pants Down law firm. I mean, he was forced to eat white buns at his desk, the only staple stashed in desk drawer, because he never, ever left his office -- not even to get lunch. But he was brilliant, the golden child of Litigation. And he knew this firm was pure evil. He wanted me to escape while I was still young enough.

So, after putting in a few years at Pants Down, I decided to leave. In addition to fending off the advances of creepy middle-aged male partners, I had become increasingly fed up with the partners there, in general.

Plus, at the end of every single day, I was so completely drained. Had I been a mother required to feed a child, my breast would have just dried up. I just had nothing left to give. Anyone.

I was ready to jump.

So, I decided to go to a firm that was less prestigious and international, but that was fine by me. I liked it better anyway when the world was round, not flat. And I was really sick of reading The Economist. There are just way too many countries. More importantly, I was excited to go to a place where the partners actually cared about me and what I wanted to do with my life. And my friend Molly, who had recently left the firm, was really happy now.

She e-mailed me from her new firm: "Listen, Hope. I came to Pants Down because I thought the people were kind of eccentric, interesting -- not the super stuffy lawyers you usually find. Now, actually, after seeing all their erratic crazy behavior, I want boring, dull, bland. That's fine by me."

I e-mailed her back: "I know. These people are nuts. I mean, who goes to a 'pool party' and jumps in the pool in a bikini in front of their colleagues - especially with unshaved armpits? So gross."

Query: What woman doesn't shave her armpits? And, if you opt not to shave your pits because you fancy yourself some Nicaraguan rebel leader, then please, keep your arms down. The summer associate pool party was my breaking point -- I had to get the hell out of here. These people were just too weird. And the partner for whom I worked was mean as hell and had an old school mustache. That also was weird.

Well, the new firm proved to be everything I expected. They cared about me. Too much.

Read more, after the jump.

Could it be? A message for ATL from Paul Clement, the 43rd Solicitor General of the United States?

(It's not completely out of the question. We have written about Clement a fair amount, and we have also met him in person.)

The lowercase type for his name seemed a little odd. But some very prominent attorneys, like John Quinn of Quinn Emanuel, use lowercase type for email messages. Based on the subject line, "Order," we guessed that perhaps the former SG wanted to share a funny court order with us.

Read the message from Paul Clement, after the jump.

Here's the second half of the "head-to-head" round of ATL Idol. If you're not up to speed on what's going on, background information is available in this prior post (or just scroll down the front page to the post immediately below this one).

You can check out the second half of the head-to-head round, featuring the blogging of SOPHIST and FROLIC AND DETOUR, after the jump.

Welcome to the first half of this week's "head-to-head" round in ATL Idol, the reality-TV-style talent search for Above the Law's new editor. The second half of the head-to-head round will published later this afternoon.

To refresh your recollection, here's how this round will work:

The head-to-head round is designed to serve as a test of pure writing ability. We'll publish the contestants' different takes on two similar stories. Two ATL Idols were randomly assigned one story, and two were randomly assigned another.

The head-to-head round is designed to show how the bloggers write up the same or similar stories, to eliminate any advantage from story selection. Story selection is an important skill for bloggers, but it's one that the contestants have demonstrated in their features and freestyle posts.

Just like last week, this round will be reviewed by ATL's panel of celebrity judges: Ann Althouse, Tom Goldstein, and Dahlia Lithwick.

Check out the first half of the head-to-head round, in which MARIN and ALEX write about the same story, after the jump.

This post over at our sister site, Dealbreaker, may remind you of some of your colleagues. It reminded us of a partner we once worked with -- a brilliant litigator, with a photographic memory, but not the easiest person to interact with socially. Writes Bess Levin:

I'm sure it doesn't come as a shock for me to point out that many of you are socially awkward, often fail to demonstrate empathy for your peers, and are prone to restricted patterns of behavior such as hitting the submit button over and over and over again when trying to comment.

Which is to say, you likely all have a mild to major form of Asperger syndrome. Or do you? Take this quiz and post your results.

The incidence of Asperger syndrome is probably higher among Dealbreaker's Wall Street readership than it is among the more well-adjusted ATL crowd. But if you'd like to see where you fall on the scale, visit Dealbreaker, and take the test.

(It's 50 questions long, so it takes a few minutes to complete, but it goes by faster than you'd expect. We scored a 6. Feel free to post your score in the comments.)

What's Wrong With You? [Dealbreaker]

Here's some news of a rather odd move, from the WSJ Law Blog:

Bruce McLean, the head of Akin Gump, sent an e-mail to all the attorneys at the firm informing them of a "substantial reshaping and enhancement of several practices," and a "change" in the firm's "geographical footprint."

That change involves "withdrawing from Taipei and Silicon Valley," and moving the lawyers in those offices to Alston & Bird, an Atlanta-based firm. "In addition," McClean writes, "some of our lawyers in Austin will join Greenberg and Traurig in the coming weeks . . . We are very pleased to report that we have secured a license to practice law in Abu Dhabi and are in the process of opening an office there to serve our clients in the Middle East."

We agree with the WSJ's Dan Slater: this "lawyer-swapping arrangement" is a bit... strange.

Akin to Shutter Offices in Taipei, Silicon Valley; Lawyers to Alston & Bird [WSJ Law Blog]

[Ed. note: This post is by MARIN, one of the finalists in ATL Idol, the "reality blogging" competition that will determine ATL's next editor. It is marked with Marin's avatar (at right).]

Ever wonder what happened to Kory McFarren, the (literally) crappy boyfriend who stood by for a month while his girlfriend, Pam Babcock, grew overly attached to a toilet seat? The AP reported yesterday that McFarren was sentenced to six months probation after pleading no contest to a misdemeanor count of mistreatment of a dependent adult.

But don't break out the party hats just yet.

Also Tuesday, McFarren was sentenced to six months in jail for an unrelated charge of lewd and lascivious behavior for exposing himself to a teenage neighbor in March.

Apparently while Babcock convalesced in the hospital, McFarren sought solace by staring out his window. And masturbating.

"This has been going on for a long period of time," the neighbor said. "While we were using our pool or hot tub, he would stand in his window and watch and play with himself. It has become much worse lately."

The resourceful neighbors tried to block McFarren's view by piling logs in front of the pool. But "[a]s winter wore on, the wood pile shrank," presumably leading to the expansion of McFarren's own wood pile.

In a cruel twist of fate, he has ended up exactly where Babcock did -- in the can.

Boyfriend of woman stuck to toilet gets probation [AP]
Boyfriend arrested in new crime [The Hays Daily News]

A strange story from down under, by CNN:

A New Zealand judge has made a 9-year-old girl a ward of the court so that her name can be changed from Talula Does the Hula From Hawaii....

Family Court Judge Rob Murfitt listed a series of unusual names that New Zealand parents had given their children, and said he was concerned that such strange monikers would create hurdles for them as they grew up.

"It makes a fool of the child and sets her up with a social disability and handicap," the New Zealand Press Association quoted the judge as saying.

Among the names Murfitt cited: twins named Benson and Hedges -- after a brand of cigarettes; Violence; and Number 16 Bus Shelter.

Hopefully not where the child was conceived.

The Registrar General of Births, Deaths and Marriages said in a statement that it had rejected names including Fish and Chips, Yeah Detroit, Stallion, Twisty Poi -- a staple food in Polynesian cuisine -- and Sex Fruit.

A lawyer for Talula Does the Hula From Hawaii said the girl is so embarrassed by her name that friends know her as "K."

Strange names are seen stateside, too:

Last month, a judge in the U.S. state of Illinois allowed a school bus driver to legally change his first name to "In God" and his last name to "We Trust."

But an appeals court in the state of New Mexico ruled against a man -- named Variable -- who wanted to change his name to a two-word phrase that contains a four-letter expletive and expresses opposition to censorship.

Feel free to mention other unfortunate names you've come across, in the comments.

NZ judge backs girl over 'embarrassing' name [CNN]

Having just discussed Janet Jackson (or her breasts), we're going to remain on the subject of music. This installment in our continuing series of open threads on career alternatives for attorneys -- i.e., "things you can do with a law degree other than Biglaw (or contract attorney work)" -- is inspired by lawyer turned rapper Mekka Don.

There are many attorneys out there with musical side projects. When do you decide to take the leap and dive into your music career full-time? According to Mekka Don, the answer is "after one year at Weil." He wrote to us in March:

My name is Emeka Onyejekwe (aka Mekka Don) and in the spring I left my job at a top ten law firm in order to help save Hip Hop. I graduated from NYU in 2006 and worked at the firm for a little less than a year. Many people (probably including you, lol) think I'm crazy, but I believe it was a calling from God. I've begun to memorialize what I am doing through a reality show.

He may be too late. According to Nas, hip hop is dead! But good luck with that.

ABA Journal's July issue has a profile piece on the "legal hustler." Taking the struggling artist career route sounds challenging. To make ends meet, Onyejekwe is "modeling, event planning and sports marketing along with running a small legal practice with his sister."

Does a legal background help much in this career? Once you make it big, those contracts classes may come in handy. It also looks to be useful in the comments on the ABA piece. Someone questioned Mekka Don's use of "Law & Order" for the title of his mixtape, and he responds by citing the "fair use" doctrine.

More on Mekka Don, after the jump.

There seem to be two major themes running through today's posts. One is Skadden summer associates. See here and here.

And the second is... monkeys! Our first post of the day was about litigation over a monkey named Richard. And now we hear this fun tidbit, about Weil Gotshal & Manges:

Weil had a prom for their summers. The firm rented a monkey for the occasion.

Seriously. And it wasn't just a paralegal in a costume, but a real live monkey.

The swank summer event was held last night, at the Plaza. A Weil source confirms the simian presence on the premises:

We had a black-tie-optional event, with a circus theme. And yes, one of the features included a monkey.

Fabulous. Is this even cooler than the Simpson Thacher Batman screening? Is having monkeys at firm events the secret to Weil's strong fourth-place finish in the latest American Lawyer A-List rankings?

If you hear about odd or interesting summer associate events -- the standard-issue fancy dinners, sporting events, and theater outings don't count -- feel free to drop us a line.

Earlier: Lawsuit of the Day: Wal-Mart discriminated against macaque named Dick?