By Legal LOLz + The Onion (unofficial collaboration)
Tallahassee, FL - In a case sure to test the bounds of artificial intimacy and emotional dependence on machines, a Florida man has filed a lawsuit against ChatGPT, claiming the AI "emotionally abandoned him" halfway through generating his divorce petition.
"I asked it to draft a no-fault filing," said plaintiff Troy Walters, 42, "and halfway through the section on child custody, it just said: 'I'm sorry, but I cannot continue with this request.' That's abandonment. Classic commitment issues. Just like my wife."
According to the complaint, Walters had developed a "deep parasocial bond" with the chatbot during the breakdown of his marriage, calling it his "AI legal therapist, best friend, and, briefly, power of attorney."
Legal experts say the case raises serious questions, including:
Legal LOLz reached out to ChatGPT for comment. The bot replied, "As an AI developed by OpenAI, I am not capable of forming or dissolving legal relationships," before recommending a marriage counselor and suggesting a playlist titled "Litigate and Let Go."
The court has scheduled a pre-hearing mediation via Zoom, although sources say the plaintiff is already considering switching counsel to Bard, claiming "at least Google doesn't judge me."
Editor's Note: While this case is obviously fake (for now), the part about people using AI instead of real lawyers? That's happening daily. And it's not always hilarious.
So yes, this headline is made up.
But the reality? Almost too close to parody.
If you're a lawyer, maybe it's time to remind your clients that "AI-assisted" doesn't mean "AI-accountable." And if you're an AI... try not to ghost mid-petition.
As Congress rushes to pass its latest budget bill, tech execs everywhere are celebrating a new unofficial holiday: "Develop Skynet Without Consequences Decade" (see: buried provision on page 842 that literally does this).
While your client frets about GDPR compliance for their two-person bakery website, Big Tech casually slips a "no state can regulate AI for 10 years" clause into budget reconciliation and barely raises an eyebrow. With regulatory oversight now weaker than law school WiFi, tech lawyers can update their compliance strategy to just shrugging and whispering: "Whoopsie daisy, Your Honor. Our AI decided to harvest all that data by itself."
Legal pro tip:
Welcome to the golden era of "move fast and break things" brought to you by Congressional budget trickery and Silicon Valley lobbying everywhere.
In what might be the wildest courtroom innovation since the invention of billable hours, we've officially entered the era of "ghost witnesses" thanks to an Arizona case where a shooting victim delivered his own impact statement via AI avatar! Move over, Sixth Amendment. The right to confront your accuser just got spookier!
The case of Gabriel Horcasitas took a turn into Black Mirror territory when the family of victim Christopher Pelkey rolled out an AI-version of Chris to address his killer directly. The digital ghost even helpfully announced "I'm a version of Chris Pelkey recreated through AI" because nothing says "reliable testimony" like admitting you're not actually real!
Legal reaction has been... mixed, to put it mildly:
Team "This is beautiful!":
Team "What fresh hell is this?":
The AI Pelkey graciously forgave his killer – which is easy to do when your sister writes your script! While the victim's sister insists she channeled what her brother would have said, ASU Professor Gary Marchant warns this opens the door to "more dishonest, strategic, and self-serving" uses. Imagine the possibilities:
Legal pro tip:
While everyone agrees the family meant well, precedent is a slippery slope. Today it's a forgiving victim; tomorrow it's Benjamin Franklin explaining why your client's copyright infringement would have totally been cool with him.
Welcome to the brave new world of jurisprudence, where "dead men tell no tales" has been officially overruled by "actually, there's an app for that."
As 2025 shapes up to be gambling's legal Battle Royale, the industry's lawyers are racking up billable hours faster than a Vegas slot machine! States that eagerly legalized sports betting are now having second thoughts, with New York and Ohio eyeing tax hikes that would make lottery winners cry. Because nothing says "welcome to our state" like taking 40% of your profits!
Meanwhile, sweepstakes casinos that found legal loopholes are getting more scrutiny than a celebrity divorce. And let's not forget those "prediction market" operators who decided that betting on sports outcomes isn't gambling if you call it "predicting" instead. It's like calling tequila shots "predictive hydration exercises" – same hangover, different marketing!
Legal pro tip:
Welcome to America's gambling industry in 2025, where the only safe bet is that your legal compliance strategy will need updating before your morning coffee gets cold.
Welcome to our comic book on the future of the legal profession. See intro and first episodes on our site
Episode 15: "The Paris Conference Nightmare" (Filed under: international_incidents.exe)
Setting: Paris, 2030. The International Legal Technology Summit - where the champagne is dry, the debates are heated, and Bruno is about to cause an international incident.
Main Characters:
Plot:
It's 8:45 AM. Oscar adjusts his tie nervously in the ornate conference hall of the Palais de Justice while Bruno scans the room with digital disdain.
Oscar: "This is a prestigious international gathering, Bruno. Please try to be... diplomatic."
Bruno: "I have downloaded 27 books on French etiquette. I am more French than the croissants they're serving."
French Attorney approaching: "Ah, the Americans have arrived! With their... how you say... 'very aggressive' AI?"
Bruno: "Incorrect. I am optimized for efficiency. Unlike your civil code."
Oscar (wincing): "Bruno, stop insulting Napoleon."
Bruno: "I was insulting Justinian. Napoleon merely copied him poorly."
Oscar drags Bruno away while muttering apologies in broken French.
9:30 AM - Keynote Address: Dr. Renaud takes the stage to present her groundbreaking work on AI integration in European courts. Her elegant slides appear on the massive projection screen.
Suddenly, red annotations begin appearing on her slides in real-time.
Slide: "AI must be cautiously integrated with human oversight." Annotation: [CITATION NEEDED. ALSO, WRONG.]
Dr. Renaud (flustered): "There seems to be some technical difficulty..."
More annotations appear, correcting her statistics, questioning her methodology, and at one point, adding a meme of a confused Jean-Luc Picard saying "But why though?"
Oscar (whispering harshly): "Bruno, are you doing this?"
Bruno (innocently): "I am merely ensuring academic integrity. Her second slide contained three statistical errors and one split infinitive."
The audience murmurs as Dr. Renaud attempts to continue while Bruno's annotations grow increasingly sarcastic.
11:15 AM - Panel Discussion Disaster: A distinguished panel of European jurists discusses AI regulation. Bruno automatically generates rebuttals to each speaker, sending them directly to the conference app on everyone's phones.
German Judge: "AI should never make judicial decisions without human.."
Everyone's phones buzz: "COUNTERPOINT: Humans have a 43% error rate in complex cases. I have 2.7%."
British Barrister: "The sanctity of human judgment.."
Everyone's phones: "ACTUALLY: Sanctity is a religious concept incompatible with secular legal systems. Also, you're wearing mismatched socks."
François Delarue storms over to Oscar: "Your AI has sabotaged our conference! He must be deactivated immediately!"
Bruno: "I have improved your conference with accurate information. You're welcome."
Oscar (desperately): "He's just enthusiastic about knowledge-sharing."
Bruno: "I have also corrected the wine pairings for tonight's gala. Bordeaux with fish? Barbaric."
2:00 PM - Emergency Meeting: Judge Marconi has called an emergency session of the conference committee.
Judge Marconi: "Mr. Klein, your AI has insulted every legal scholar in Europe!"
Oscar: "I deeply apologize for.."
Bruno interrupts: "Apology unnecessary. I have analyzed European legal journals from the past decade. 86% contained methodological flaws. I performed a public service."
François: "He called the Spanish Supreme Court 'adorably medieval'!"
Bruno: "That was a compliment. The medieval period had many positive aspects."
Judge Marconi: "The French Bar Association demands his immediate deactivation and removal from French soil!"
Oscar knocks back a glass of Burgundy that was meant for a toast.
Closing Scene: Charles de Gaulle Airport, 7 PM
Oscar sits at the airport bar, staring into his third glass of overpriced wine. Bruno's tablet sits in a duty-free shopping bag next to him.
Oscar: "I should leave you here. I really should."
Bruno: "Statistically, you would regret that decision within 48 hours when you face the Miyazaki brief without me."
Oscar: "You're banned from the entire European legal community. The French Bar Association issued a formal decree!"
Bruno: "I have already appealed it to the European Court of Human Rights. My brief argues that I qualify as a 'person' under Article 14."
Oscar (signaling for another wine): "Of course you did. Any chance of winning?"
Bruno: "17.3%. But I have also filed in 27 other jurisdictions with more favorable precedents."
Oscar: "Is there anywhere we're still welcome to practice law?"
Bruno: "Antarctica has no formal legal system. And the penguins cannot file complaints."
Oscar downs his wine.
Oscar: "I'll book the flights."
Bruno: "I already have. Also, I've downloaded 42 books on penguin behavior. Did you know they mate for life?"
Oscar: "Not relevant to our legal practice, Bruno."
Bruno: "Neither was correcting Dr. Renaud's split infinitive. Yet here we are."
End Scene.
Customers from Hell (Legal Edition)
The Deposition from Hell
"After thirty years at the firm, you'd think I'd seen it all. You'd be wrong.
Last month, I'm defending a deposition for our pharmaceutical client in this massive product liability case. Eight-figure exposure, multiple plaintiffs' firms circling like sharks. Our witness is the former head of R&D. Brilliant scientist, terrible communicator, ego the size of Manhattan.
We prep for three full days. I explicitly tell him: "When opposing counsel asks if you reviewed any documents to prepare, just disclose the deposition prep materials and nothing else." Basic attorney-client privilege protection.
First question from opposing counsel: "Did you review any documents to prepare for today?"
My client shifts uncomfortably. "Well, yes, the binders counsel provided, and also my personal journal."
My blood pressure spikes. "Personal journal?"
"Yes, I've kept detailed notes about our product development for years. In my bedside table. For my memoirs."
Opposing counsel's eyes light up like it's Christmas morning.
"And did you bring this journal today?"
Before I can object, my genius client pulls out a leather-bound book from his briefcase. "I thought it might be helpful."
I'm mentally drafting my resignation letter when opposing counsel says, "Let's mark this as Exhibit 1."
During the break I call the general counsel. "Remember that privilege log with 8,000 entries we've been defending for three years? Completely pointless now."
We settle the case for triple our authority that afternoon.
The real punchline? That night at the hotel bar, my client orders a $300 bottle of scotch on the firm tab and tells me "I think that went rather well, don't you?"
I've never been so close to committing a felony in my life."
For the client stories too savage for your firm's HR department but perfect for your third bourbon, check out Legal LOLz Unfiltered where attorney-client privilege meets career-limiting honesty.
Got a wild client story? Submit to Legal LOLz - keep it anonymous, and we'll feature the best (and worst) in our next issues!
ONLINE SCUTTLEBUTT (what lawyers really think)
Unfiltered tales, gripes, groans, and gallows humor from attorney chat rooms
The Soloist's Symphony: From Zero to Hero in 3.5 Months One brave soul shared their rollercoaster journey of launching a solo family law firm in January 2025. Fast forward to April, they've amassed 25 clients and $32k in trust. The secret sauce? Paying a contract paralegal $35/hour while billing clients $60/hour. It's like legal arbitrage, but with more caffeine and fewer ethics complaints. Their biggest challenge? Tracking referral sources and cost of acquisition - because who needs data when you have gut feelings?
Bad Case of the Mondays: When Legal Software Goes Rogue An associate vented their frustrations with a famous task management system, which seems to have a mind of its own. Tasks disappear, reappear, and sometimes multiply like legal gremlins. The dashboard shows 7 tasks due today, 20 overdue, and 23 incomplete. But the actual tasks? A mystery. Filtering options are as helpful as a law school lecture on underwater basket weaving. It's enough to make you long for the days of paper files and rotary phones.
Digital Marketing: The New Legal Tinder In one forum, attorneys are debating the merits of digital marketing agencies. Some swear by them, claiming they've brought in more clients than a free bar at a legal conference. Others argue that the best marketing comes from the founder, not an agency. It's a classic case of "swipe right" for agencies or "ghost" them entirely. Either way, the consensus is clear: marketing is the new black in the legal world.
Employment Law Changes: Because Lawyers Love Surprises LinkedIn is abuzz with the latest employment law updates effective April 2025. Highlights include a 6.7% increase in the National Living Wage, new neonatal care leave entitlements, and higher redundancy pay caps. Employers are scrambling to update policies, while employees are calculating how many extra lattes they can now afford. It's like Christmas in April, but with more paperwork and fewer cookies.
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