Just Call Me Bryan: Attorney at Law

          I've gotten a lot of jobs I wasn't qualified for. Computer programmer. Election official. That one time I tried to be a doctor in Mexico.

          Now we can add attorney to that list.
          I have 2 brothers-in-law, both of whom have more money than common sense, and they rely on me a lot for help. Like the time I drove 30 minutes to remove a car battery because they had no idea how (4 small bolts and it was out, took about 45 seconds). Or the time I drove one to the airport and didn't take the $10 tollway because that's expensive as fuck, and he commented, as we took a long back road, "Oh, this must be the way poor people go."
          Really, just imagine the stereotypical millionaire who can't even feed himself properly because there's always been a person or machine for that. Now multiply that by two. You have my brothers-in-law.
          One recently put his house up for sale and went back to Vegas. Soon after, his Realtor sold it, and since he didn't want to come back to Colorado to sign the papers, he texted me to let me know he gave me power of attorney over his half a million dollar estate and asked me to close everything for him. "Oh, and by the way," he said, "it's gonna close in 30 minutes at a place that's 15 minutes away so make sure you're on time!"
          Yep, that's right. This bomb was dropped on me 30 minutes before I was due in front of a title transfer adviser.
          The following is what happened:

          So off I went to the title company, and they started hitting me with hard questions right off the bat.

          What? I've been to his house maybe 5 times in my life. I have no idea what his address is. So maybe this tells you what kind of shit he was getting me into.
           After they looked that information up (which I'm proud to say I still don't know), they sent me to a big boardroom where I consulted with some suits and was given some legal documents that looked like they were written in an alien language.

              And then came a barrage of questions I am definitely not qualified to answer.

               This is 100% true, by the way. My wife offered the midgets drinks and they were scared of pissing off the millionaire host (brother-in-law #1), so my wife said, "I'm his sister, I can do whatever the fuck I want, come drink with me." So while bro-in-law #1 was hobnobbing with a bunch of silicone breasted bimbos, my wife was getting a bunch of midgets dressed up like jesters drunk.
               So let it never be questioned again why I married this woman.
             
               Anyhow, after bluffing my way through these ridiculous tax questions, I had to sign about 30 different papers, outlining myself as AIF (Attorney In Fact). And after that, my brother-in-law's house was sold! Or at least I think it was, since, you know, I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing.

            They don't pay me nearly enough for this shit (namely, zero).

            So, anyone want any shitty legal advice?

Stay classy, friends,
Bryan, Esq.

Beer: Honker's Ale
Music: TMBG