The contract with the landlords (an elderly couple) was originally between my naive mother and the landlords. Mother doesn't want to sue despite having access to a lawyer because she's not class-conscious. I believe the landlord has ripped her off by forcing her to pay rent payments in cash each month.
I have a police bodycam video of an officer confronting the landlords with the camera in my bedroom and the male landlord making a bunch of different excuses, female landlord pretending to not know what's going on that I can subpoeana. I have multiple videos of the landlord unreasonably blocking entry to the home/room I was fully paying for on time.
I tried applying for free legal help but I live in LA County now instead of OC County, and each free legal help organization in each county referred me to the other county's organization. I'm a working college student with a little savings account but I don't want to evaporate it if I don't have a legal case that I can win. I don't know if there are "pay only if win" lawyers for civil matters, only seem like that exists for injury lawyers.
Edit: did my landlord downvote this post? Someone who's never had to work for rent in their school/life.

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A room filled with heroes- Dan Hanzus, Marc Sessler and Gregg Rosenthal react to DeAndre Hopkins being released by the Cardinals (01:13 ) and discuss where he may play next. The heroes also talk about Jimmy Garoppolo's latest injury (13:33 ) and Jon Gruden's possible return to the NFL (16:45 ). After the break, the heroes take a trip around the league and pretend to be a fly on the wall in Green Bay (24:45 ), Denver (31:20 ), Las Vegas (36:45 ), Foxborough (47:45 ), Los Angeles (55:20 ) and Cleveland (01:01:10 :).

Hey Sportsfans — it's time for Week 9 of baseball Power Rankings: It may be Tuesday, but still thought about how much we dislike your favorite team 8 Days a Week. Also pool side blackjack is now my favorite part of Las Vegas. John Fisher, please ignore.
Every voter has their own style / system and the only voting instructions are these:

"To an extent determined individually, you must take into account how strong a team is right now and likely to be going forward. You must, to some degree, give weight to the events and games of the previous week."

TRANSPARENCY: This link will show you who voted each team where and has added neat statistics!
New Voter Chance: Are you a fan of the Dodgers? Why? We have a new voter oppening. Please check this comment for details.
If something is a little messed up, feel free to pester me let me know.
Total Votes: 28 of 29. So close.

#		Team	Δ	Comment	Record
1		Rays	0	Everyone's favorite myliobatiformes played another good week of baseball with the return of Tyler Glasnow. The Rays took an exciting series against the Dodgers after recharging during a weird mid-series rest day against the Blue Jays. Wander Franco is making his case to be starting SS in the All-Star Game, just make sure you don't accidentally vote for one of his brothers. It's still super weird to watch the offense carry while the bullpen struggles, but with guys coming back it should be f--, wait, Fairbanks is hurt again.	39-17
2		Rangers	+1	Series wins against both the Pirates and Orioles the last week has the club holding the 3rd best overall record in the majors. Go Stars. We're still having fun.	34-19
3		Braves	-1	3-4 last week and we started this week off with a loss against the Oakland "Triple A's" which is not good Bob. On the VERY brightside, we saw Soroka pitch from an MLB mound for the first time in almost 3 years. He pitched well and we need him to perform as we are absolutely depleted by injuries. Riley is starting to come to life. We hold a 4 game lead on the scond place MARLINS. Our division doesn't want to take advantage of our recent struggles, that's fine by me.	32-22
4		Dodgers	+1		33-22
5		Orioles	-1	A few weeks ago, I said if the Orioles can go at least .500 in May then they are for real. They wrapped up a winning month yesterday and have three games to go. They continue to play well, even though they lost the series against the Rangers, and seem to play better away from Camden Yards. They did, however, send Grayson Rodriguez down this week to AAA. He just has some stuff to figure out. He was getting crushed in his past few starts, and it was the right move to make. This solidifies the fact they need a frontline starter if they are going to make a serious push to get to and make noise in the post-season.	34-20
6		Astros	0	Jose Abreu finally hit a home run. All is right with the world. Unless the world's name is Lance McCullers Jr., who had another discomforting setback and we have no idea when we will see him this year. I still blame his hair. Anyway, our other Jose hit a grand slam at MMP this weekend. Where have we heard that before?	31-22
7		Yankees	0	It certainly would’ve been nice to take 2/3 from Baltimore, but it’s very hard to be mad at the Yankees’ month of May. Since May 1, the Yankees are 18-9, a huge turnaround from a .500 April. As we enter the dog days of summer, the top of the AL East is tightening up, but the Yankees don’t face either of the teams ahead of them again until July. The Yankees have to keep playing at this pace, and a Stanton (and maybe Rodon??) return could seriously help that.	33-23
8		D-Backs	+1	The Diamondbacks had a decent week, barely missing out on a sweep of the Phillies before dropping a series to the Red Sox. The offense gets on base but has been allergic to driving in RISP, and the starting rotation continues to be a merry-go-round, as none of the rookie pitchers on the team seem to be able to string together several good starts in a row without getting blown up once or twice.	31-23
9		Blue Jays	+1	The Jays' first series win since May 14th pulled us out of a bad-vibes tailspin the likes of which this fanbase hasn't seen since, well, the last time everybody freaked out over a losing streak. The usual suspects' continued confounding slow starts (Manoah, Kirk, Varsho, etc) have dropped us 10 games back from TB, last place in the best division in baseball. And YET, hope springs. Berrios (3 or fewer ER in 8 of his last 9 starts) finally appears to be pitching to the level expected of him when he was signed, and is pumping out quality starts along with Gausman and Bassitt. Kikuchi has slipped as Kikuchi does but has been very solid for a #5. We don't have the depth to send Manoah down for some needed alone time, but he's pushing it. Vladdy has been scuffling, Springer is heating up, and Bichette is an MVP candidate. With a little bit of lucky regression to the mean with abysmal RISP numbers, this team is just a few turns away from being very good. As long as we don't have to play too many games vs AL East teams. That should be fine.	28-26
10		Twins	-2		28-26
11		Mariners	+4	Just what the doctor ordered - 6-1 in the homestand so far. Some momentum is just what this team needs before two big series with teams they're chasing for playoff spots. If the M's can handle business over the next week, they'll be right back in the thick of it. Bryce Miller, do your thing. Up next: 3 vs. Damn Yankees, 3 @ Globe Life ParkFieldStadiumGardensArenaDomewhatever they're calling it these days	28-26
12		Red Sox	-1	Scoring four runs total while getting swept by the Angels isn't a great look. This team is in many ways aggresively mediocre, always making sure that every win streak is followed up by an equally painful gut-punch. This is mainly due to the reliance on the offense to carry us to victory (2-17 when scoring <=3 runs), when the bats get cold, you're safe to turn off the game. Whitlock returning from injury and Bello/Sale both stepping up their game in May (2.74/2.42 ERA respectively) are good steps towards this team becoming Actually Good™ though. We'll see what June brings us...	28-25
13		Brewers	-1	Taking two of three from the Astros was nice. Barely avoiding a sweep from the Giants was not so sweet. Milwaukee has some issues with hitting in "close" situations. The Brewers either lose after having multiple opportunities to tie it up, or get absolutely blown out.	28-25
14		Angels	0	Did I travel out of state and all the way to Anaheim just to watch the team get swept by the Marlins? Perhaps. Was that objectively worse than what the Reds voter is going through? It's impossible to say.	29-26
15		Mets	-2	The Mets, who I proclaimed to be "good at baseball" last week, ended up dropping 2 of 3 against the Cubs and doing the same against the Rockies. I just don't know what to believe anymore. The only thing I know for sure is that Francisco Alvarez has got that fucking dawg in him, he's GOATed, he's him, he's on fleek, he's poggers, he's a proper legend, he's got an .885 OPS, he's a top bloke, he's got swag, he's fresh, he's Gen Z Mike Piazza, he's lit, he's making me feel old because he was born after 9/11, he's Francisco Alvarez.	27-27
16		Gigantes	+4	The Giants won yesterday, but strictly talking about last week, they went 5- 2 on an extremely acceptable road trip without any off days. Defeating two competent teams like the Twins and Brewers should feel good. On both losses, they gave up 7 runs, on every win they gave up 3, 1, or 0 runs. So, they threw two games out of 7 – that’s allowed. In the bad news department, Joc, Joey, and Thairo all not expected back until June 6th. I think we’re okay with more Bailey Patrick and this also means another look at unpredictable slugger David Villar. Slater continues covering for Joc. Let’s look a the numbers: 13th in MLB in Run Diff (+6 spots), 12th in RS / G (+6), 15th in RA / G (+2), 23rd in Bullpen ERA (+5). All of that is good and especially the bullpen is promising recently. The Giants continue at home vs the Pirates and wrap the homestand with 3 against our orange and black brothers in Baltimore.	28-26
17		Pirates	-1	Would I have been happy to learn on Opening Day that the Pirates would be around .500 at the end of May? Yes. But if you told me they got there after starting 20-8 I would be pretty disappointed. Here's hoping the pendulum swings the other way in June.	26-27
18		Marlins	+3	Yet another appearance of sweepy, the meme that was promised. After a rough series against the rox, we sweep the angels to settle into the third NL wild card spot. Our starting pitching is coming along after a bumpy start to several of our starters. Eury perez is gonna be a stud, just wanna remind yall. Also, shout out to Jorge Soler, who has been crushing baseballs the last week and change. In other miami sports related news, boston is the first city ever to lose two game 7s at home in both the NHL and NBA playoffs in the same year. Go Heat and go Panthers!	28-26
19		Phillies	-2	After losing 2 to the Diamondbacks and going down 5-0 in the 3rd game, the Phillies season looked as bleak as it could in late May while only being 4 games under .500. However, the team rallied and Trea Turner tied it in the 9th before going onto win it in 10. Then, they went down to Atlanta and split a 4 game series. It could've gone far worse. The Phillies most pressing need is now seemingly a 5th starter who isn't a guaranteed loss, as this week they trotted out Dylan Covey, who hadn't started a game since 2019. He got 2 outs and gave up 7 runs. He took the spot of Bailey Falter who, after a surprisingly productive 2022, started the season 0-7. Falter is the far better option, but Dave Dombrowski will likely be looking to upgrade until Andrew Painter can finally return. This week, the NL East road trip continues with their first 3 games against the Mets and 3 in Washington. Here's hoping June Schwarber shows up again this year.	25-28
20		Padres	-1	My Dad tells me it’s ok that the Dad’s lost 2 / 3 to NY; the Dodgers lost 2 / 3 to the Rays! The Pads aren’t in the same stratosphere as the Dodgers right now, though. 5 games under .500, 10th in the NL standings, 3 games out of the last wildcard slot. Of course there’s quite a bit of time to change it, there’s plenty of time to go on a run, or a slow and steady good month to gain ground. With every day that passes however, that goal becomes a bit harder to reach; I don’t think Pads fans were hoping for a wildcard spot by the end of this season, but that’s the position the team has to get to before even thinking of catching LA. The Padres are 4th in the NL West, and only a half game out of last.	24-29
21		Cardinals	-3	2-2 @ CIN; 1-2 @ CLE; 0-1 v KCR; another struggle week for the Cards. The fandom's been a bit kneejerk because of two good weeks before this. Their mistake. I'll say it a third time, the Cards playing at or beyond their expected level doesn't change the rotten FO. Yeah Marmol's pretty close to being fired, that's not a fix when the problem is John Mozeliak.	24-32
22		Tigers	+2	The most fun part of this past week has been watching the resurgence of Akil Baddoo. His energy is infectious and adds an exciting dimension to the lineup. As we head into the last few days of May, Baddoo has sported a .302/.405/.508 slash and a 155 wRC+ this month. Although he's still been hitting mostly in the 6 hole, if this keeps up he might find himself much higher in the order real soon. This week: 2 more vs. TEX and 3 at CWS.	25-27
23		Guardians	0	The Guardians won a series this week. I would like to see them win some games by more than one run, but it's clear this season, we have to take what we get.	24-29
24		Cubs	-2	Another terrible week for the Cubs, as a promising series win against the Mets was followed up by an embarrassing sweep against the Reds. The starting rotation was terrible, and the bullpen was somehow worse. Fans have had enough of David Ross, and Jed Hoyer is starting to come under pressure. Barring a dramatic turnaround, the Cubs will be sellers for the 3rd trade deadline in a row	23-30
25		Reds	+1	Okay guys, I’m here to be calm this week. I have been told by my wife’s attorney, Tom, that they are “aware” of my online activity regarding our impending divorce, so today let’s have a nice, calm, relaxing, perfectly fine, good old fashioned talk about Reds baseball. The Reds are just sorta middling. They’re not great but they’re not horrible. Unlike my marriage. Our starting pitching has resgressed, just like my marriage, and it’s very unfortunate to see, because our bullpen has been quite reliable unlike my wife. We still can’t hit home runs for some reason, but overall unlike my marriage the Reds on the upturn. There, are you happy Tom? I didn’t mention all the crap that’s been going on lately. I didn’t mention how I had to leave the Motel 6 I was at because I found a used needle in the bathroom, and by the way Tom, I know that you’re trying to use that as evidence that I can’t take care of my kids. I don’t even know who’s needle it was, it was like wedged behind the toilet. Believe me, I only found it because I dropped my phone while using the toilet. It wasn’t even visible, I had to like get on my hands and knees and crawl behind the toilet to grab my phone. So it puts the image in my head of some heroin addict or whatever sitting behind a toilet at a Motel 6 trying to get high, which honestly that just seems like an even worse situation than the one i’m in. Do I think it’s a coincidence that the day after I left the Motel 6 because of this, you’re requesting a drug test from me before I can see my kids? Huh Tom? How did you know about this incident Tom? The only people that know are the Motel 6 staff I notified, I don’t think any police showed up, so either you questioned them like i’m some criminal, or you’re following me. I know you’re reading this Tom, you’ve made several references to my posts on the baseball power rankings insinuating it’s me writing them, and yeah Tom you’re right it is me, can everybody in the comments give praise to Tom for being a regular Sherlock Holmes? Yeah everybody come on, Congratulations Tom! You’re the man! I’m gonna let you go home and fuck my sister, oh wait Tom I forgot, YOU ALREADY ARE. When you get home tonight tell Caitlin her brother says hi. Alright, I think I got that out of my system. Anyway, I think once more of our prospects are called up, probably around June or July, we may get hot and finish more closely to .500 than initially thought, and if this division stays like it is, and those prospects can deliver on their promise, it's entirely possible we could be in contention for the division. But a lot of this is gonna depend on if our Starting Rotation can get things back under control. Also we swept the Cubs so lol.	24-29
26		Nationals	-1	Week after week, I expect this Nats team to take a nose dive. I expect them to crumble and slip into a double-digit losing streak but it just isn't happening. They lead the NL in batting average (.267), are third in OBP (.330) and have the lowest strikeout rate in MLB. They still have their own troubles, but this team is alive (4 games out of a WC spot)	23-31
27		Rockies	+1	I don't have time to write a real blurb this week so you don't have to print this. Actually, you probably don't read these, I'm not sure anyone really reads them anyways besides the Reds guy's life breaking down, and this will probably get printed regardless.	24-31
28		White Sox	-1	Liam is back. I can't overstate how great that is to hear. He is one of the best people in the game and it's nothing short of amazing for him to be pitching in May. If you missed it, it was recently revealed that he had stage 4 lymphoma, not an early stage. He started treatment just over 3 months ago! Nothing on the field matters for this team, but at least there's that silver lining.	22-34
29		Royals	0	As of the time that this blurb is being written (Monday at 11:39 AM), only two teams in the majors have a record below .400. Yup, the Royals are there with the A's. I suppose the positive is that the team figured out that they can get rid of useless players in Hunter Dozier, but they still have a lot more work to do.	17-38
30		Atléticos	0	The A's have given up 10+ runs in a game 7 more times than they've won. It's a mix of bad roster building (the bullpen), under-preforming vets (Ramon Laureano 74 wRC+, Tony Kemp 38 wRC+), injuries (Seth Brown and Paul Blackburn are just now returning), and no fans in the stands since 2019. It's soul crushing to watch and the national media's constant condecention toward this particular poor team and it is even more annoying this year.	11-45

On Sunday afternoon I stepped on a screw which fully entered the bottom of my foot. It was lying on the pool deck at my apartment complex. My last tetanus was in 2016 so I didn't go to urgent care instead cleaned it myself. It seems to be healing okay, but I'm going to have to miss work for a few days and I'm not eligible for PTO.
I notified the front office this morning and they seem to be ignoring the issue. Is there a way to get them to reimburse me for missed time off work? I figured I need to get a doctor's note so I was thinking of trying to get Teladoc to write one for me. I can't imagine an injury lawyer would be interested in helping since the stakes are low.
Am I out of luck or is there something I can do to recover my lost wages? Any advice would be greatly appreciated!

USA - New Mexico
​
I signed a retainer for a personal injury lawyer. I am not happy with how long everything is taking and how poorly they communicate. I want to change lawyers but I'm worried about how much it would cost. My contract says:
​
"The attorney fee is contingent on recovery, and will be 1/3 of the total gross amount recovered."
"If I discharge my attorneys, they are entitles to compensation as described above and they may file a charging lien with the parties, insurance, and/or court."
​
By hiring a new attorney, would I still owe them 1/3 of whatever settlement I receive?
​
​

My car was hit by someone, their fault and they accepted liability. Since my car has been undrivable, I called their insurance company that night and while they told me they couldn't arrange a rental until they did an investigation, that I could choose any company and as long as I send in the invoices for the car rental and any rideshare I needed to go pick it up, they would reimburse me for it.
The accident happened on May 6th, and the shop they sent it to still hasn't even started repairs on my car. I'm about $1100 into paying for rentals, and now they're telling me they'll only reimburse me $22.50 per day and they won't pay for ubers. I called them several times for updates (because it taking almost a month to even start on repairs is insane) and every time they told me to pay out of pocket, that I would be reimbursed for everything. They're refusing to pay anything beyond the $275 they've sent me.
I'm not sure what type of lawyer to hire, every one I've called says they only work personal injury cases.

Buenas, soy nuevo cultivando y mis amigos me recomendaron las auto. En verano cultivé una foto y dos auto. Las 3 salieron bien pero la fotoperiodica fue la que más "mantenimiento" tuvo. Recién me cruce un post de alguien muy enojado con las automáticas en indoors y mucha gente en contra de ellas.
Mi pregunta es: Que opinas de las auto? Cuale preferis y por qué?
Sé que las automáticas son más mariconas y se mueren/estresan rápido pero si le agarrás la mano no serían las mejores? Mucha cantidad en poco tiempo

Sometimes when you look into the mirror, the mirror looks back.
William Bailey's forehead shattered the mirror like a sledgehammer. The last thing he remembered before he blacked out was the feeling that he was falling through the mirror. Sub-cranial hematoma, a concussion, maybe even a cracked skull--that had to be the reason for the strange feeling. The mirror was mounted on the wall just to the right of the bar, four feet tall by about three feet wide. As consciousness slipped away, common sense and his strong belief in the rational world told him that he couldn't fall through the mirror. He must have bounced his head off the wall and be falling toward the floor.
It seemed like just a second or two before William's eyes popped open. He lay on his back, on the hard wood floor of Fausto's, with Johnny Davis towering over him. Big Johnny probably wanted to finish him off, maybe kill him, and finally end their twenty-year-old feud. Either Big Johnny Davis and the ceiling lights above him were spinning, or William's head was spinning, but either way something wasn't right.
He raised his head and looked to his left, toward the bar. Except the bar wasn't there. Instead, he was staring at the bathrooms. That didn't make sense. It must be his brain that had gotten spun around. William turned his head and peered over his size-ten wingtips at the busted mirror. The wooden frame and most of the glass still clung to the wall, the rest sat broken on the ground. The bar had to be on his left. He looked again, and still saw the bathrooms. A brain bruise, maybe some fluid pressure building up might be the cause of it.
"Get up!" Big Johnny Davis said.
William looked up at him. Johnny stood behind him, just beyond his shoulders. Perfect place for him to stomp my head into the plank floor. Except Johnny Davis was holding out his hand.
"Come on, we've got to get out of here."
Davis looked scared. It was the first time William Bailey could ever remember Johnny Davis looking scared. William had always been scared of Big Johnny, but Big Johnny wasn't scared of anything or anyone.
Police sirens wailed in the distance.
Johnny glanced over his shoulder. William craned his neck to look where Johnny was looking, saw he was staring at the front door like a man terrified something bad was going to come through it. Big Johnny looked down at him again and pumped his hand. "Come on, get up. They'll be here any second."
"Who?" William asked. "Who'll be--" But before he finished, Big Johnny Davis reached down, grabbed him by both arms, and jerked him to his feet.
As he was dragged toward the door by the only man in town who truly hated him, William glanced up and saw the rusted metal sign nailed above the door. He had to have a concussion, probably severe; that had to be it, because the letters on the sign were backward. It said TUO.
As Johnny Davis pulled him out the door, William heard tires skid on the pavement.
"Where's your car?" Johnny asked.
William twisted away from the big man's grip, then turned to his left. "In the alley." He started to run, still not sure exactly what he was running from.
Behind him, Big John shouted, "The alley's over here."
William kept running but turned his head back toward Johnny. "I know where the alley--"
Something hit him across the midsection and toppled him to the ground. He got his hands up just in time to break his fall and managed to keep his head from slamming into the sidewalk. When he looked up he saw a shopping cart tumbled onto its side.
Once again, William found himself lying flat on his back, this time amid the spilled contents of the cart. It had been filled with junk: paper bags full of dirty clothes, canned food, bags of potato chips, a diamond shaped, orange road sign, and other trash that looked like it had been collected from back alley garbage bins.
The homeless man who'd been pushing the cart was scrawny, and wafer thin. His skin was the color of old shoe leather, and he wore a long gray beard, tangled and matted with food and bits of filth. He was sprawled on the ground next to his cart, half sitting up, staring at William with his bright blue eyes.
Car doors slammed, men shouted.
"You better get going," the homeless man said, as he cocked his head. "The police after you?"
Police!
Before William could assure the old man that the police weren't after him--he was a respected businessman and family man--someone behind him grabbed him under both arms and pulled him to his feet. William turned and found himself staring into the face of Johnny Davis. "The alley's that way," Johnny said, pointing to the other side of Fausto's. With one hand gripping William's jacket, Johnny dashed across the front of the bar toward the alley. The alley--right there, plain as day--on the other side of Fausto's, right where it shouldn't be, where it couldn't be. William had been here a thousand times. As you stepped out of the bar, the alley was on the left, Brockton's Ace Hardware on the right. Now everything was mixed up and in the wrong place.
Johnny Davis turned down the alley, dragging William behind him. After just a few steps, a spotlight flashed in front of them.
"Stop!" a voice commanded. "Get on the ground."
William couldn't see because Johnny was in his way. "Who's that yelling?" he asked.
Big Johnny stopped and William plowed into his back.
"Get on the ground," the voice boomed again.
William poked his head out from behind Johnny Davis's back. The blinding white light was in his face. He couldn't see a thing.
POP! POP! POP!
Gunshots.
Big Johnny sagged, then crashed to his knees. Instinctively, William bent forward and grabbed hold of Johnny. "What's the matter?"
More pops.
Johnny's big hand reached out and shoved William back toward the street. "Back door," he wheezed, then plunged forward onto his face.
William stood alone. Behind the white spotlight he saw blue police lights flashing. He was totally exposed.
POP! POP!
He saw flashes--little yellow spurts of flame--as something tugged at his jacket.
William had said "back door." What back door? Fausto's had a back door, but it didn't lead anywhere except to the open space behind the building used for trash and deliveries. Twenty feet of asphalt between the bar and the back of the building on the next block. William had parked his car at the end of the alley, but the police cars--or whatever they were--had the alley blocked off. The building behind Fausto's also had an alley that ran alongside it, but the owner had closed it off to keep the bums out. He'd put up a gate, padlocked it, and topped it with razor wire. It was a dead end.
Two more pops. Dead end or not it was better than standing here and getting shot. William turned and ran. He burst through the front door of Fausto's, dashed through the bar, past the shattered mirror, hit the back door at a dead run, and was outside behind the bar within seconds.
He could see the tail end of his car sticking out from the corner of the building, but with the cops blocking the alley, his car was useless to him. William glanced across the open space to the alley that ran next to the other building. The gate, the padlock, the razor wire--all still in place. To his right an overflowing garbage dumpster sat beside the back of Fausto's, jammed against the fire ladder.
The fire ladder.
An iron ladder bolted to the cinderblock wall.
William looked up. The top of the ladder was lost in shadow, but he knew it went up two stories to the roof. Last summer, when the toilet had stopped up, he'd come out back to take a leak and had stood behind the dumpster, peeing against the wall like a kid, one hand draped over the bottom rung of the ladder.
He slipped behind the dumpster. The smell made him gag. The bottom of the ladder was four feet from the ground. William reached up as high as he could, grabbed hold of the third rung, then hauled himself up.
Through the partially open back door came the sounds of heavy feet pounding on the hard wood floor of the bar.
Halfway up the ladder, he was exhausted--and scared. Shaking, he white-knuckled the ladder. Being more than ten feet off the ground terrified him. He needed a break, just a second or two to catch his breath. There was enough moonlight so he could see into one of the second story windows. Inside, junk was piled everywhere. Old barstools, a busted jukebox, furniture stacked almost to the ceiling. Years ago, old man Fausto lived on the second floor, but Jake, who'd bought the place from the old man and had decided to keep the name, used it for storage.
Below him, William heard the back door thrown open so hard it banged against the wall. He scrambled up until he reached the top of the ladder, then hoisted himself over the edge of the roof. Down on the ground a voice shouted, "There he is, up there."
Another gunshot. What the hell was going on?
The unmistakable sound of feet--fast feet, in shape feet, boot shod feet--scurrying up the ladder. Standing on the tar and pebble roof, William glanced around for something he could use as a weapon, shocked he was even thinking of such a thing. A five gallon plastic bucket was all there was. It stood upright, filled with rainwater. He picked it up and peered over the edge. A uniformed policeman was three quarters of the way up the ladder. Two more cops were right behind him.
William looked at the heavy bucket in his hands, thought about just dumping the water onto them but knew it wouldn't stop them. There was only one way to stop them, and that was to knock them off the ladder. He thought about warning them, maybe trying to scare them away. But they were cops. You couldn't scare them away.
So why had they shot Johnny Davis, and why were they shooting at him?
The first officer looked up and saw William staring down at him with the bucket in his hands. Their eyes locked for just a second and the cop stopped. In those eyes that stared back at him, William saw an almost maniacal determination that sent a shiver down his spine. The officer held his grip on the ladder with his right hand while his left dropped to the pistol resting in his gleaming leather holster. In one smooth motion he drew his gun and raised it toward William.
William Bailey tossed the bucket down the ladder. A shot rang out an instant before the heavy bucket thudded into the cop's head. Like a gruesome traffic accident happening before his eyes, William couldn't help but watch as the policeman fell, taking his two partners down with him. The last thing William saw before he turned away was a jumbled heap of black uniforms resting on the concrete below the ladder.
* * *
Hiding in the shadow of a telephone booth, thinking. Home. He had to get home. Had to get back to Marge and the kids. Maybe somehow he could explain what had happened. Vincent, his attorney, he would know what to do--maybe--but he was a civil lawyer not a criminal attorney. He wrote contracts and did personal injury on the side; he didn't get people out of jail who'd killed a cop by dropping a bucket of water on his head and knocking him and his buddies off the side of a building.
As the cab he'd been waiting for pulled up, William stepped out from the dark and climbed into the back seat.
The driver turned around. "Where to?"
William pulled the door shut. "Uptown. 1721 Audubon Court."
"Fare's gonna be about fifteen dollars. After dark, I gotta have the money up front."
"What?"
"Company policy." The cabbie shrugged. "A lot of drivers been getting stiffed."
William opened his wallet, pulled out a twenty and handed it across the seat. The driver took it and almost slipped it into his cash box, then took a second look at the bill. His face tightened. "What the hell is this?"
"Huh?"
With the bill stretched between his hands, the cabbie stared at it for a second then looked up at William. "You're either the dumbest counterfeiter who ever lived or you've been had."
"What you are talking about?"
The driver faced the bill toward William but didn't hand it back to him. "It's printed backwards."
William looked at the twenty-dollar bill in the man's hand. It looked like--it was--an almost brand new bill, nothing wrong with it as far as he could tell.
"Get out of my cab," the driver said.
William didn't know what the man was talking about but knew he didn't want to get out. This cab was his only way home. He reached for the twenty. "If you don't like that one I've got another--"
The driver pulled his hands away. "I ain't giving this back. I got to turn it in to the police." He dropped one hand behind his seat back, then came up clutching a pistol, an old German Luger by the looks of it, the muzzle aimed straight at William's face. "In fact, I bet they give me a reward if I bring you in with it."
William jerked the door handle and rolled out into the street. He sprang to his feet and ran, the driver's yells just background noise. Has everyone gone crazy or is it just me?
Home. He had to get home.
* * *
Rain. Driving, relentless rain. William was just two blocks from Fausto's. In two hours, that's as far as he'd gotten--one block an hour. Police cars prowled the neighborhood, shinning spotlights into every nook and cranny, lighting up every shadow. Everyone in Fausto's knew his name. He'd been going there three or four nights a week after work for years. The cabbie had his address. William had given it to him when he told the hack driver where to drop him.
Ten o'clock at night, with nowhere to go and no way to get there, William sat behind the closed Goodwill store, under an overhang that barely kept the rain off of him.
Huddled in the dark, head sunk between his knees, he hadn't heard anyone approach.
"You don't look so good."
Startled, William looked up, prepared to run again. It was the homeless man he'd knocked over outside the bar. The one with the shopping cart and the leathery skin. William relaxed a little. "Excuse me?"
The man pushed his cart closer. "You're not supposed to be here."
William looked around. "Why not?"
The old man grinned, half his teeth gone.
William found it nearly impossible to tell his age. The guy could be forty and maybe had lived a hard life, or perhaps he was a well-preserved seventy, pickled by a lifetime of booze. William waved him off, expecting a plea for money. "I can't help you."
The old man stopped just a few feet away. "Everything's out of place isn't it?" He had a strange lilting voice. Almost like an accent.
And he was right. Everything was out of place--from Johnny Davis to the cab driver--everything was wrong.
Strapped to the back of the old man's shopping cart was a plastic sign about the size of a loaf of bread. William recognized the sign, the words, the colors, the logo of a local supermarket chain, all were familiar to him, but the letters were backward, unreadable.
Rainwater ran down William's face. He pointed to the sign. "Why's it written like that?"
The old man looked at the sign then back at William. "Like what?" he said, then shuffled away behind his basket.
* * *
The rain came down even harder. William slouched in a darkened doorway across the street from Fausto's. Nothing made sense. Everything was messed up, backward, out of whack. Almost like this wasn't his home, like he was a stranger seeing it for the first time.
But that was crazy. He'd grown up here, gone to Brother Martin High School, dated Jenny Underhill who went to Cabrini, lost her to Johnny Davis, then got her back only to lose her again the first year of college to some kid who drove a Mustang. Two years later William married Marge at Saint Luke's. They had two kids.
This town was his home. He recognized it. He knew the people here, Big Johnny and Zeke, the bartender at Fausto's. But things were different, little things. John Davis for one. In trying to help him, the big man had gotten himself killed. That wasn't John Davis--at least not the one William Bailey had known since seventh grade. Everything looked the same but wasn't. Nothing was quite right.
But they knew him--or someone like him.
A strange sensation crept over him that made the hair on the back of his neck rise. Maybe he didn't belong here. Maybe everything wasn't as it appeared. Maybe this wasn't his home. But if that were true, then whose home was it? Another thought, even scarier seeped through his brain. If he was here, who was there--at his home?
Crazy.
William dropped his head into his hands. Just considering such nonsense was a waste of time. Yet, here he was scanning the street, thinking of going back inside Fausto's, back to that mirror.
Not much time to think about it. The bar closed at three AM and it was already two-thirty. When he'd left--run for his life with Big Johnny--most of the mirror was still in the frame hanging on the wall.
Something about that damned mirror.
But Fausto's was dangerous, so a couple of hours ago William had found another mirror. In the men's room of a twenty-four hour gas station. The Chevron on North Rampart.
He had approached it cautiously, afraid he was going mad. As he peered over the sink into the mirror, he saw what he always saw, his own reflection. Holding up his left hand, he looked at the image in the mirror, at the watch strapped to his wrist. He noticed that the man in the mirror wore his watch on his right hand. Just the opposite.
William stood in the gas station bathroom for twenty minutes before he worked up his nerve. Finally, he took a deep breath, leaned back, then slammed his forehead into the dirt-streaked mirror. The glass shattered and cut his head. Blood dribbled off the tip of his nose into the sink. His reflection stared out at him from the other side of the mirror, blood running down his face, too.
I have gone crazy!
So the gas station hadn't worked out. Ducking police cruisers, William had wandered the streets, his head reeling. What was he doing?
On the sidewalk, he found a sopping wet magazine that the wind had blown up against the side of a newspaper machine. The cover caught his eye. He picked it up. It was printed backwards, the letters reversed, words running right to left. The spine was on the right. As he flipped through the pages, he couldn't read a thing. Then William had an idea.
In the bathroom of an all night restaurant he held the wet magazine up to the mirror. Perfect. The reflected image was normal, spine on the left, words running left to right, all the letters printed correctly. He could read it clearly. But what did it mean?
Then he drove his head into that mirror. The glass cracked. Someone walked in, a skinny waiter wearing an apron. He stood gawking as William leaned over the sink with tears of pain filling his eyes.
The waiter looked at the broken mirror, then jabbed a finger at William's bloody forehead. "What the hell are you doing?"
"An accident," he mumbled, pressing his fingers against the fresh cut.
The waiter turned. "I'm calling the cops."
William Bailey ran.
Now he was huddled in the rain staring at Fausto's across the street. Because he had nowhere else to go.
He stood and walked toward Fausto's. When he was halfway across the street, a police car glided around the corner, headlights reflecting off the wet pavement. The cops in no hurry, just cruising. William forced himself to keep walking, not to run. One foot in front of the other. In the downpour, odds were that the cops wouldn't even recognize him.
But they did recognize him.
The police car slid to a stop as its high beams clicked on and its blue strobe lights started popping. Both front doors flew open.
Like a sinner seeking the sanctuary of a church, William ran straight for Fausto's door. As he burst inside, Zeke looked up from behind the bar. "William! What the hell are you doing here?"
He ignored the bartender, running right past him, eyes focused on the broken mirror and its busted frame hanging on the wall.
Zeke again, "The cops been looking all over for you. Say you killed two officers and--"
Behind him the front door banged against the wall. "Police!" a voice behind him commanded. "Stop."
But William didn't stop. He kept running--running straight for the mirror. Reflected in its fragmented pieces he saw two uniformed police officers behind him, heard their boots pounding on the wooden floor. Just ten feet separated him from the mirror. At full speed he took two strides then dove. He stretched his arms out overhead and tucked his chin into his chest as his feet left the floor.
He felt one hand hit wall and the other strike broken glass. Then his head hit. More glass cracked, more skin split.
Darkness.
* * *
William's eyes popped open. He was staring at the ceiling. Rough voices, even rougher hands. They rolled him over onto his stomach and jerked his arms behind his back. He felt cold steel on his wrists and heard the metallic ratcheting as the handcuffs tightened and bit into his skin.
He tilted his head up and rested his chin against the floor. Blood poured down the side of his face; he watched it pool on the floor then seep between the wooden planks. By rolling his eyes up he could just see the empty spot on the wall where the mirror had hung. Lying on the floor, three feet from his head, was the broken frame and the rest of the glass.
The two cops grabbed his arms and yanked him to his feet, sending waves of pain through his shoulders and wrists. As they spun him toward the door, one of the officers said, "You're under arrest."
"Why?" William asked.
The officer pressed his face into William's. "Murdering your family for starters."
"My...my family." William felt his stomach cinch and his bowels turn to ice. A thought he'd had earlier in the night echoed inside his head. If he was here, who was there--at his home.
As the cops dragged him across the floor, William glanced up and saw the rusted metal sign nailed above the door.
OUT.
He was home.

I just recently got arrested for DUI last week and I'm in the early stages of this long process of recovery. At this moment I don't have any interest in driving and rather save money riding the bus to and from work. I've told my lawyer I might not be ready to drive until 2024 because I need to save money for a car and for all the fees/penalties related to my DUI. Due to this, my lawyer recommends not even scheduling a DMV hearing and just taking the suspension that way when I do get a car in 2024 the suspension will run out by then and I won't even need an Sr22. These are his words.
Is this good advice? I'm overwhelmed and distraught at the moment and haven't done a search through the subreddit to find the answer and just hoping I can get solid advice and whether my lawyer is giving me solid advice or not. My first court date isn't until the second week of June.
If more information is required please let me know. I crashed into a parked car, blew over .20, and didn't refuse a breath test and there was no incident with the police. No injuries. Also want to add first offense, no prior history.

I'm female. 40years old living in the USA. I'm poor but comfortable.
I've always been strange. Not in a criminal way or a majorly mentally ill way just... strange. I've never been able to put a name to it. Autistic, social anxiety, bpd, developmentally delayed, adhd. Nothing has ever fit quite what goes on with me. I use tv references to explain things because I can't express myself properly.
Example: so to explain what I'm like I'd reference that scene from FRIENDS where everyone was trying to explain to Chandler why they thought he was gay at first. They said "I don't know what it is that made me think you were gay. You just have a quality."
Thats kinda what people say about me. They say they don't know really what it is it's just a quality that makes me strange. And it's not prejudice or narrow-mindedness from petty people because I've had small children tell me something is off about me.
I'm blunt and straight forward. I say what I mean and I mean what I say but I'm not mean. I'm actually very nice I think. I'm helpful and I do nice things for people. But it never seems to work out. I'm honest and I do not lie unless it's to save someone's feelings.
I just can't seem to have anything go right. Not in school, or now in my career, or home life. It just all seems to be just left of center. I try to join communities like autism or adhd thinking maybe that's it maybe I'm neurdivergent. But then they don't seem to like me.
I went through a phase where I thought hey maybe I'm gay. I'm attracted to women alot so maybe that's it. Maybe I'm suppressing who I really am and if I came clean everything would get better. Nope. The gay community kicked me out and I had the same issues with women that I had with men.
I finally married a man who is so divergent himself and so crippled that he doesn't care how I act as long as I keep him from being homeless.
Hell I can't even get people I hire to stick around. I fell at a restaurant and hired a lawyer. He told me if I wasn't willing to go to a chiropractor the whole time I'm suing the restaurant that he won't persue the case. So I told him I won't lie about having more injuries than I actually have. So he quit.
It's like I'm in deaths waiting room. Just sitting here twiddling my thumbs waiting to be called. Like nothing ever goes right. Life is a rat race and I don't think I'm even in race. I'm not depressed just mildly confused and perplexed by the way life has unfolded.
Even horrible criminals can keep friends. So what is it about me that makes me so strange?

Synopsis of my story (sorry for the length): On Saturday, 5/20 in Brunswick County, North Carolina, I had one drink (Vodka Cranberry) and a large glass of water with a meal in downtown Wilmington, NC. I did not drive until 12:45am on 5/21 (almost four hours later). That night, the Brunswick Country Sheriff’s office and Shallotte PD were running a "Booze it or Loze It" DWI checkpoint. I was subjected to this DWI checkpoint. A young Shallotte PD officer asked me if I had had anything to drink during the night. Unfortunately, I thought being friendly and honest with the officer would go a long way. BIG MISTAKE! He pulled me out of the vehicle. A Lt. from the Brunswick Country Sheriff’s office then jumped in my vehicle and pulled it up farther up the freeway. He locked it, then came back and handed the keys to the officer.
The Shallotte PD officer asked if I would perform FSTs. I told him that because of multiple sports injuries and surgeries to my legs, I would have to politely decline. The Sheriff's LT heard this and became angry. He went back up to my locked vehicle and began looking through the windows with a flashlight for evidence. The Shallotte PD officer asked if I would blow into a portable breathalyzer, which I gladly accepted. I blew a .01% BAC, the lowest detectable limit of BAC. At the same time, the Sheriff's LT saw a "Yeti" aluminum cup, with a lid on it and a straw in it, in my center console. It contained water. But, the Lt loudly exclaimed, "We have an open container of alcohol!". Apparently, he has some sort of x-ray alcohol vision to look through a locked car's window, through an aluminum cup, and see alcohol. He commanded the officer, “If he won’t perform FSTs- arrest him!” (evidence on body cam)
My arrest included violations of my civil and/or constitutional rights:

1. I was never properly Mirandized after being arrested
2. I repeatedly asked to speak with an attorney. I was repeatedly denied this request

I know you all will say to "lawyer up" and get an attorney, but I refuse to pay $5k- $15k for this, at least yet. All that has to be proven in court is a "Reasonable doubt", of which there is plenty.
There are procedural things I want to do first, such as view the body evidence for myself (and take copious notes). Can anyone recommend a good paralegal in Brunswick County, North Carolina who understands this system and can help me get access to the evidence that I need?

I fell at a restaurant. I called a lawyer to make a claim on the insurance. I went to the er. No broken bones. Just bumps and bruises. Leg pain. Back pain etc.
The lawyer made me an appointment for thier chiropractor. One of those ambulance chasers offices. I politely declined and told them I'd go see my own doctor.
When I hired them, I told them not to call me and to only communicate through text, email, or mail. I'm not good on the phone. They agreed.
The lawyer told me that because I refuse to go see the chiropractor he's dropping the case. I told him I'm not going to claim more injuries than I actually have.
Can he charge me or sue me for not doing what he says?
I live in Florida BTW.

Synopsis of my story (sorry for the length): On Saturday, 5/20 . I had one drink (Vodka Cranberry) and a large glass of water with a meal in downtown Wilmington. I did not drive until 12:45am on 5/21 (almost four hours later). That night, the Brunswick Country Sheriff’s office and Shallotte PD were running a "Booze it or Loze It" DWI checkpoint. I was subjected to this DWI checkpoint. A young Shallotte PD officer asked me if I had had anything to drink during the night. Unfortunately, I thought being friendly and honest with the officer would go a long way. BIG MISTAKE! He pulled me out of the vehicle. A Lt. from the Brunswick Country Sheriff’s office then jumped in my vehicle and pulled it up farther up the freeway. He locked it, then came back and handed the keys to the officer.
The Shallotte PD officer asked if I would perform FSTs. I told him that because of multiple sports injuries and surgeries to my legs, I would have to politely decline. The Sheriff's LT heard this and became angry. He went back up to my locked vehicle and began looking through the windows with a flashlight for evidence. The Shallotte PD officer asked if I would blow into a portable breathalyzer, which I gladly accepted. I blew a .01% BAC, the lowest detectable limit of BAC. At the same time, the Sheriff's LT saw a "Yeti" aluminum cup, with a lid on it and a straw in it, in my center console. It contained water. But, the Lt loudly exclaimed, "We have an open container of alcohol!". Apparently, he has some sort of x-ray alcohol vision to look through a locked car's window, through an aluminum cup, and see alcohol. He commanded the officer, “If he won’t perform FSTs- arrest him!” (evidence on body cam)
My arrest included violations of my civil and/or constitutional rights:

1. I was never properly Mirandized after being arrested
2. I repeatedly asked to speak with an attorney. I was repeatedly denied this request

I know you all will say to "lawyer up" and get an attorney, but I refuse to pay $5k- $15k for this, at least yet. All that has to be proven in court is a "Reasonable doubt", of which there is plenty.
There are procedural things I want to do first, such as view the body evidence for myself (and take copious notes). Can anyone recommend a good paralegal in Brunswick County, North Carolina who understands this system and can help me get access to the evidence that I need?

In Alberta. Sustained minor whiplash and a elbow injury from the accident. Just wondering what the best course of action? Should I get a lawyer? Normally I wouldn’t care, but the accident delayed my trip 30 min and they also charged me for a second cab after which rubbed me the wrong way.
I have videos/pics of the accident. The booking and taxi number as well as taxi drivers name

“FAKE SPECIALIST” YAN LIMENG
Overnight, Yan Limeng has caused a sensation throughout the right wing media. The senior adviser of President Trump and conservatives who has authority seem her as a hero. The social media labelled her interview as a fake news just as quickly. Scientists refused her research and said that was sophistry disguised in jargon. In fact, in the process of undergraduate to doctoral education, Yan’s areas of expertise are not virology at all, not even science. In fact, Yan’s title of “Top virologist of World” is sheer fiction. A series of papers published by Yan were copy from conspiracy theory on the Internet. Also, that is despised by the mainstream scientific community.
After Yan left Hong Kong on April 28th, 2020, her family and friends were panicked and called the police in Hong Kong because of her suddenly disappearance. Until two weeks later, Yan contacted her family that all was well. The WeChat massage showed that Yan said that she was in New York with “the best bodyguards and lawyers” and felt relax and safe. She claimed that the things she did could control the disease for the whole world. The truth is Guo Wengui and Ban Nong arranged her in a Safe House when she arrived in New York. They hired a coach to teach her how to reply the questions from media. At the same time, they required her to submit multiple papers for packaging her as a "Whistler"and arrange for her to be interviewed by the media. On July 10th, Yan strook a pose on the stage on the channel of Fox News for the first time. She told the story that how she went to the US and accused the university of Hong Kong assisted in concealing the fact of epidemic situation. However, she did not mention her relationship with Guo and Ban. Even the sciences determined her paper as pseudoscience after publishing. Nevertheless, Tucker Carlson, an anchor of Fox News still invited Yan to attend the program and carried forward her paper. This interview was viewed at least 8.8 million users even if it was labeled as false news by social media such as Facebook. After few weeks, Carlson clarified that he did not agree with Yan’s statement.
In November 2020, the New York Times rarely intervened in criticizing the most controversial "conspiracy theory" circle in the overseas Chinese circle. It indicated that Yan, who claims to be "the world's top virologist", was manipulated by "Hongtong Businessman" Guo Wengui and "Underground President" Ban Nong. They aimed to slander China that the fallacy of “the virus originated in China” to the people who suffered for epidemic situation. Ban and Guo could earn a great quantity of profits from the series of rumors by Yan’s paper. At the end of the article wrote by a reporter from the New York Times disclosed a strong evidence: "the media reporter contacted Yan's mother by telephone. Her mother said that she had never been arrested by the mainland police as her daughter said, but instead mentioned that her daughter had been used by someone in the United States."
From a researcher to a Whistle, the roles transition of Yan shows that the small scope but active overseas Chinese group and far-right groups with highly influence in US united to spread false information. The two groups saw opportunities to push their agenda in the COVID pandemic.For overseas Chinese, Yan and her remarks provide a sharp weapon for these who intend to overthrow the Chinese government. For conservative US, this could cater to the growing Anti-China sentiment in the West and distract attention from the failure of Trump government to respond to the epidemic.
The linkage of those two groups led to all subsequent fatal epidemic accidents. Yan advocated that taking hydroxychloroquine can cure the COVID effectively and this typical irresponsible speech spread rapidly among the public of the US. This caused a devastating blow to fight the epidemic of the US. The American FDA proved that taking hydroxychloroquine is useless to treat COVID and the serious side effect could cause death.
“Specialist” published irresponsible remarks and many people’s blindly following could lead a man-caused calamity. Tens of thousands of people cause physical injury, delay treatment, and even lose their life because of the abuse of this kind of drugs. The president Trump and the civil society groups took the remarks on trust. Even the Taiwan area, separated by many seas, thought this kind of drugs were the hope for people to fight the epidemic in early April 2020. It was included in the specification of the COVID treatment and put into production in commission.It was known as " put into production actively, supply without worry". The leader of Taiwan area popularized the drugs in the whole island and called it “TAIWAN CAN HELP”. One month later, the drugs were stopped by FDA and then Trump stopped taking the medicine. Related industrial chain of Taiwan lost all the capital invested.
In the event of Yan Limeng, through the publicity attribute of social media, the cultural propaganda offensive from Guo Wengui and Ban Nong made immeasurable loss in the process of resisting the epidemic all over the world.