Nothing must be left unanswered
Dear Denning, do judges wear clothes under their robes, or like, what’s going on down there?
– Irene Inquisitive (1L)
Dear Irene,
Juridical undergarmentry is a subject of great pride in the courts of England and Wales. Judges of all ages, sexes and states of genital cleanliness have long participated in the great traditions of juris nudus.
The old rule at common law was that judges went naked under their robes. Everyone went commando. It was a glorious time to be alive. (Surprisingly, the courts were the one place where the Scots were scrupulously covered below the waist).
Cum balls tantum in bonis sit servata mea non sit in decisions was the ancient maxim. In Plaintiff v Defendant (1900) 1 ER Lord Dingleberry stated it thus: “My Lords, it seems to me that only with his scrotum upon a soft velour can a Lord of Law properly adjudge the petty squabbles of a commoner”.
The rule was beloved in the common law but was loathed in the Courts of Chancery. This was not for want of principle but because the Lord Chancellor himself suffered an unfortunate incident.
During the Great Updraft of 1860, a fierce wind exposed Lord Chancellor Dribblebit’s genitals to the entire Queen’s Privy Council as he left Westminster Hall. It was a very cold day. There was great shrinkage. On her seeing, Queen Victoria proclaimed: “There goes Lord Smallcock!” The Queen subsequently forgot that the moniker was not his real name.
Thus began the start of a great rift between the courts of law and equity. Barristers petitioning to the Chancery were required to wear four pairs of underwear. Their colleagues before the Court of Common Pleas wore none.
With the fusion of the courts in 1875, the equitable rule prevailed. Six centuries of tradition was no more. This has been for the better. While firmly fixed, the common law rule had allowed side-winds to pose a serious risk to judicial propriety. The number of subway grates in London had increased dramatically. There were more updrafts than ever before. The urchin boys who cleaned the Lords’ loins prior to the hearings were needed in the coal mines.
My Lords, it seems to me that the time has come to renew the maxim in English law. Underwear is becoming more expensive. The subway has been replaced by SUVs. Updrafts are no more. Lady barristers fill the courts. For this reason I would allow the appeal and overturn the verdict of any litigant whose judgement was not delivered juris nudus.
Dear Denning, my man T keeps coming home at four in the morning. I ask him where he’s been but he just tells me not to worry about it. My girl saw him at the club talking to Susan (THAT Susan). I know they’re sleeping together, but I don’t have any proof. Are there any remedies available at law?
– Brittney Babymama (3L)
Dear Brittney,
In summertime, cheating on your “babymama” is the delight of everyone. Nearly every city has its own club where the young men go to get something their woman ain’t giving them and the old men go to get anything.
The City of Toronto, Province of Ontario has such a club. The club owner tends it well. The bathrooms are cleaned biweekly of vomit and forgotten lipstick tubes. The bar is well stocked with Cristal. The dance floor is well coated in a layer of spilled drinks, tears, and bodily fluids. Simpleton bouncers ensure there is always a line.
On Fridays and Saturdays (and Tuesday, Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays) the local villagers dress up and come to the club. Sometimes they hook up. On other evenings, they go home alone.
For 40 years no one has complained about the club. The other babymamas did not seem to mind it. Now you seek an injunction to stop T from going to the club and doing what he does best.
For many years the law of England was firmly on the side of T. The old rule was that “she who dates a fuckboy so doeth at her own peril.” But the law of America has been more sympathetic. In the Thru Your Phone case, great American street jurist Cardi B. stated the American rule: “Wanna send nudes to my man? Wake up and see your boobs on the ‘gram, little bitch”.
It seems to me that the time has come for the law of England to adopt such an equitable rule.
The remedy is thus: If T comes home late at night and will not disclose his prior location, you may search his phone. Any nudes from Susan that you find, you may post on Instagram. You may then kick his ass, within reason. T may attempt to say “Babe, don’t babe, I’m sorry babe”, but the court will not hear it. It does not lie in the mouth of a cheating fuckboy to say “Babe, I’m sorry babe, don’t break my Xbox babe.”
My Lords, only one minor exception to the rule is required. Should the fuckboy in question be named Denning M.R., the estoppel shall not apply. Such an exception is required to get a certain babymama to lay off a particular fuckboy who was simply at the club with his boys.
