What do you call a lawyer with an IQ of 50? Your Honour.
What’s the difference between a hooker and a lawyer? The hooker will stop screwing you when you’re dead.
A paralegal, an associate, and a partner of a prestigious law firm are walking through a city park and they find an antique oil lamp. They rub it and a Genie comes out in a puff of smoke. The Genie says, "I usually only grant three wishes, so I'll give each of you one." "Me first!" says the paralegal. "I want to be in the Bahamas, driving a speedboat with Tom Cruise." Poof! She's gone. "Me next!" says the associate. "I want to be in Hawaii, relaxing on the beach with a professional hula dancer on one side and a Mai Tai on the other." Poof! He's gone. "You're next," the Genie says to the partner. The partner says: "I want those two back in the office after lunch."
Q: How do you stop a lawyer from drowning? A: Shoot him before he hits the water.
Did you hear that the Post Office had to recall its series of stamps depicting famous lawyers? People were confused about which side to spit
It seemed that the son of a Spanish lawyer graduated from college and was considering the future. He went to his father, who had a very large office, and asked if he might be given a desk in the corner where he could observe his father's activities. He could be introduced to his father's clients as a clerk. This way, he could decide on whether or not to become a lawyer. His father thought this to be a splendid idea, and this arrangement was set up immediately. On his son's first day at work, the first client in the morning was a rough-hewn man with calloused hands, in workman's attire, who began the conversation as follows: "Mr. Lawyer, I work for some people named Gonzales who have a ranch on the east side of town. For many years I have tended their crops and animals, including some cows. I have raised, the cows, tended them, fed them, and it has always been my understanding and belief that I was the owner of the cows. Mr. Gonzales died and his son has inherited the farm, and he believes that since the cows were raised on his ranch and fed on his hay, the cows are his. In short, we have a dispute as to the ownership of the cows." The lawyer said, "I have heard enough. I will take your case. DON'T WORRY ABOUT THE COWS!" After the tenant farmer left, the next client came in. A young, well-dressed man, clearly a member of the landed class. "My name is Gonzales. I own a farm on the east side of the town," he said. "For many years, a tenant farmer has worked for my family tending the crops and animals, including some cows. The cows have been raised on my land and fed on my hay, and I believe that they belong to me, but the tenant farmer believes that since he raised them and cared for them, they are his. In short, we have a dispute over ownership of the cows." "I heard enough. I'll take your case. DON'T WORRY ABOUT THE COWS!" After the client left, the son came over to his father with a look of concern. "My father, I know nothing of the law, but it seems to me that we have a serious problem regarding these cows." "DON'T WORRY ABOUT THE COWS!" said the lawyer. "The cows will be ours!"
What do you get when you cross a godfather with a lawyer? An offer you can’t understand.
The local District Judge had given the defendant a lecture on the evils of drink. But in view of the fact that this was the first time the man had been drunk and incapable, the case was dismissed on payment of ten shillings costs. "Now don't let me ever see your face again," said the Justice sternly as the defendant turned to go. "I'm afraid I can't promise that, sir," said the released man. "And why not?" "Because I'm the barman at your regular pub!"
Why do bankruptcy lawyers expect to be paid?
A lawyer died and arrived at the pearly gates. To his dismay, there were thousands of people ahead of him in line to see St. Peter. But, to his surprise, St. Peter left his desk at the gate and came down the long line to where the lawyer was standing. St. Peter greeted him warmly. Then St. Peter and one of his assistants took the lawyer by the hands and guided him up to the front of the line into a comfortable chair by his desk. The lawyer said, “I don’t mind all this attention, but what makes me so special?” St. Peter replied, “Well, I’ve added up all the hours for which you billed your clients, and by my calculation you must be about 193 years old!”
A man walked into a lawyer's office. "How much does your advice cost?" he asked the lawyer. "Fifty dollars for three questions," replied the lawyer. "Isn't that awfully steep?" asked the man. "Yes," the lawyer replied, "And what was your third question?"