The term Philadelphia Lawyer has been around since at least 1735, when a clever barrister named Andrew Hamilton traveled to New York and won an early victory for freedom of the press.
The term Phila Lawyer brings to mind more modern liberties.
"Katherine pressed me up against the wall outside the parking lot elevator and shoved her tongue down my throat," begins the latest post from the anonymous local lawyer whose blog has returned after a year's leave.
Phila Lawyer began in December 2004 with beer-soaked, skirt-chasing tales from a big-city practice. And with confessional posts like this, called The Ten Percenter:
You probably wake up like I do every day, amazed that they haven't caught on to the fraud. When will the other shoe fall? It's only a matter of time. I don't deserve these checks. I'm not a team player. I'm not even playing the same sport.
Last week he put up the first of three new posts, and promises to update twice a week after moving his blog archives over to the new site. The new posts are sure to continue the legal parlor game that surrounds the barrister blogger's identity.
Some message board began the rumor that he had died in a car crash. Another posited that his wife had pulled the plug. Or his managing partner.
It's not clear where he's been. But he's hooked up with Tucker Max, who has been making a name in lout lit, and is part of Max's burgeoning empire of bad-boy (and bad-girl) blogs.
Phila Lawyer's latest work begins with his having to attend continuing legal education class, which he likens to watching cement harden:
I always bring a sack of newspapers, magazines, timesheets and the Blackberry to busy myself, but no matter how many Weekly World News, Inquirers, FHMs, SIs, SPINs, Times, Newsweeks, Maxims, and Economists I read, and no matter how many time sheets I fill out, and no matter how many emails I send, I will be compelled to pay attention to the seminar for at least about one of the eight hours I'm there. I chalk this up to fear. As a child and young adult, I was constantly serving detentions for talking during assembly or doodling in class. I know they can't send me to the principal's office anymore, but I still have this lingering sense that someone is looking over my shoulder. I think some prefect is going to grab the Blackberry from my fingers and yank me out of my seat by the ear. "You'll be getting a big fat zero for today's assignment, mister, and you can plead for your license to the Supreme Court."
Anyway, over three longish posts, he makes a case for bookmarking quoting from "Oh La La" by the Faces, name-checking Otter from Animal House, Dan Marino and David E. Kelly, and dissing annoying types from law school. He recalls in clinical detail a particularly robust date with a woman he describes as a polar bear:
Not because she was huge and alabaster white, but because she, and those like her, hunt men the way polar bears hunt meat. Polar bears rarely see prey on the tundra, so when they see anything alive they can get their paws on, they kill it.
So, who is this clever barrister?