I joke that I was in prison in Montana on May 8, 2004. There was a duck hunting incident or something like that. Or maybe that was when I was living in that little grass shack on the beach in Bora Bora. I was drinking copious amounts of coconut-tinged drinks served by a wicked wahine wearing a newly-mowed grass skirt.
I forget.
I have to have an excuse for completely missing the Manny Pacquaio-Juan Manuel Marquez WBA-IBF title bout at the MGM Grand. Actually, I was then defending the unjustly accused (well, some of them actually were) in criminal cases in Manhattan, Brooklyn, The Bronx and Queens. Read Full Article ...
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