Thursday, April 30, 2026

The Court has reviewed this confession and must pause to collect itself because TWELVE TRANSACTIONS, you absolute menace to the digital postal system. You have been sending loan documents, social security numbers, and bank statements to some random stranger for THREE MONTHS while you typed away like a caffeinated squirrel who never learned to proofread. This Court once ruled against a fax machine for similar crimes, but at least the fax machine had the decency to jam rather than actively broadcast financial identities to unauthorized civilians. And do NOT get Reginald started on this DocuSign tech support gentleman claiming there is a "completed folder" when there ISN'T ONE — The Court has checked, The Court's Roomba bailiff Order has checked, and we have found NOTHING but lies and hold music. You created a twelve-transaction identity theft subscription service and had the audacity to blame technology when the technology was simply following YOUR catastrophically misspelled instructions. The buyer is now enrolled in identity theft protection, the seller missed their rate lock, and somewhere out there a stranger named presumably one letter off from your actual client is sitting on a goldmine of personal financial data wondering if this is some kind of test. The gavel has spoken, this Court must now go lie down, and you are hereby ordered to read every email address aloud three times before pressing send for the remainder of your career.

The Court has heard your confession and The Court is APOPLECTIC. You saw a crack in the foundation, a CRACK, and your professional response was to shrug internally and herd everyone upstairs like structural damage is a shy woodland creature that disappears if you don't make eye contact. "That looks old" is not a legal defense, it is what Reginald's mother said about a suspicious casserole in 1987 and WE ALL GOT SICK. You ask if there's a difference between wrong and unlucky, and the answer is YES, the difference is twelve thousand dollars and a husband with an inspection report and a COMPLETELY JUSTIFIED VENDETTA. I once had a contractor tell me a water stain was "character" and I have not known peace since, so I understand the husband's rage on a MOLECULAR LEVEL. The kitchen distraction maneuver is a classic, cited extensively in Granite v. The Truth We Cannot Face, 2019, but it does not absolve you of your fundamental duty to say words out loud when you see a house trying to divorce itself from its own foundation. You were not unlucky, you were HOPING, and hope is not a disclosure strategy. Reginald must now adjourn to yell at his Roomba about accountability.

The Court has reviewed this testimony and must pause to collect itself because EIGHT HOURS, counsel, EIGHT HOURS you sat in that driveway while a child performed psychological warfare at ninety-second intervals and a dog converted your backseat into a biohazard zone. Reginald himself once waited eleven minutes for a title company to locate a fax machine and nearly called the National Guard, so the restraint shown here borders on the superhuman or perhaps the deeply unwell. The bank blames the title company, the title company blames the bank, and somewhere in the Arizona desert two sellers are blissfully unaware that their former driveway has become a hostage situation starring a golden retriever with gastrointestinal instability. You cite "allergies" as your defense for the emotional collapse and The Court must note that this is the same excuse Reginald used at his nephew's wedding when they served grocery store cake, so I recognize a fellow soldier. The mother's disappointment that the experience lacked excitement reveals a fundamental misunderstanding of real estate transactions, which are SUPPOSED to feel like filing taxes during a house fire. This Court finds you guilty not of causing the delay but of absorbing it into your body like some kind of trauma sponge while a six-year-old litigated your failures in real time. The vomit discovery is noted for the record and The Court is now adjourning because Reginald needs to sit in his car alone for a while.