Never Trust a Lawyer

The madam opened the brothel door in Milngavie and saw a rather dignified, well-dressed, good-looking man in his late forties or early fifties.

"May I help you sir?" she asked.

The man replied, "I want to see Suzy."

"Sir, Suzy is one of our most expensive ladies

Perhaps you would prefer someone else" , said the madam.

He replied, "No, I must see Suzy."

Just then, Suzy appeared and announced to the man she charged $5,000 a visit.

Without hesitation, the man pulled out five thousand dollars and gave it to Suzy, and they went upstairs.

After an hour, the man calmly left.

The next night, the man appeared again, once more demanding to see Suzy.

Suzy explained that no one had ever come back two nights in a row as she was too expensive.

"There are no discounts. The price is still $5,000."

Again, the man pulled out the money, gave it to Suzy, and they went upstairs.

After an hour, he left.

The following night the man was there yet again.

Everyone was astounded that he had come for a third consecutive night, but he paid Suzy and they went upstairs.

After their session, Suzy said to the man,

"No one has ever been with me three nights in a row.

Where are you from?"

The man replied, " Edinburgh."

"Really," she said. "I have family in Edinburgh ."

"I know." the man said. "Your sister died, and I am her Lawyer

She asked me to give you your $15,000 inheritance."

The moral of the story is that three things in life are certain:

1. Death

2. Taxes

3. Being screwed by a lawyer!

8 Replies

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  • Haha! That's really funny.

    I hope Pepsicoley doesn't see it xxxx I'm sure she was a lovely lawyer though, an exception to the rule.

    koala x

  • I have seen it and I hail from Edinburgh!!!! lol

    That was great.

    Annec.

    xxxxx

  • That was a nice little twist,to the end of the story.lol xx

  • Haha! great joke, more jokes! :D X

  • Good one - keep them coming!

  • :)

  • Very good, very clever - and very funny - thank you. x

  • A lawyer dies and goes to Heaven. “There must be some mistake,” the lawyer argues. “I’m too young to die. I’m only fifty five.” “Fifty five?” says Saint Peter. “No, according to our calculations, you’re eighty two.” “How’s you get that?” the lawyer asks. Answers St. Peter: “We added up your time sheets.”

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