Yours truly is trying a case in the Eighth Judicial District Court this week, so his eating and drinking and posting about such has been seriously curtailed.
Trial lawyer-ing is our day job, our passion, the thing we were born to do, and the thing that pays the bills, so we are asking our loyal readers for patience until the jury returns its verdict.
Once that happens — sometime today or tomorrow — we shall resume the eating, drinking and offending for which we are known.
ELV note: Yours truly is not in the habit of suing restaurants. We love restaurants, chefs, cooks and restaurateurs. We also know that anyone can get food poisoning any time at any place (you could, conceivably, get a bad clam at Joel Robuchon), and a single incident of illness would not be actionable, as we say in the law. But over three dozen incidents from a single establishment in one week is beyond the pale. So many illnesses in so short of time manifests practiced negligence on the part of management. Therefore, as a public health service, we hereby offer the following commercial.
ELV has become so well known as a restaurant critic that some people (including the Food Gal®, his long suffering assistant, and his accountant) forget that he is also a lawyer, as in: he practices law.
He’s pretty damn good at it too — having accumulated decades of experience in numerous facets of the profession (civil, injury, business, litigation, criminal, domestic, corporate, and real estate).
He is also well-versed in the nuances of divorce law and will happily help those who need to unwind the knot with a significant other.
And by “unwind the knot with a significant other” he means he will happily refer you to an attorney who specializes in human behavior at its worst. (High powered business executives and incarcerated felons are pieces of cake next to a housewife who caught her husband boinking the au pair.)
With this in mind, he is using this space, at his accountant’s suggestion to remind his loyal readers that there could be gold in them thar hills against the business that made them very sick. Any who were injured should feel free to contact him at:
John A. Curtas
3275 South Jones Blvd. Suite 105
Las Vegas, NV 89146
firstname.lastname@example.org (see our classy ad – with Greek columns and everything! – in the box on the right below)
….where he will happily refer you to competent legal representation.
But wait there’s more!
As a further public service, any who retain him will be happily steered to a tapas restaurant that won’t send them to the hospital.
ELV just saw a Budweiser commercial which claims that Anheuser-Busch “….might be America’s best known local* brewer.”
Which might might be the biggest crock of shit — from an industry that specializes in crocks of shit — we’ve ever heard.
* Anheuser-Busch makes over 11 billion bottles of beer a year, at thirteen different bottling plants**, and pockets almost $40 billion a year doing it.
** Local brewer my ass***.
*** Speaking of giant asses, that seems to be what this poor young woman has stuck on her ribcage: