who's on judge mathis today? #19

a books/snacks/softcore daily mini letter

plaintiff: priscilla from atlanta, georgia. long ariana ponytail, baby hairs fucking l a i d, thick velvety lashes, eyebrows sharp enough to slice deli meat: a fucking vision. she’s smugly unwinding the cord around her accordion folder of truth™ as she enters the courtroom, which we all know is a bad bitch power move.

the defendant: julian from atlanta, georgia. julian is festively dressed in shimmering merlot sequins that are so beautiful tears immediately sprang to my eyes! both his jacket and pants are covered in glittery paillettes. i’m living but man nothing is worse than wearing some sequined shit to the holiday party and then spending the entire night being slowly stabbed to death by tiny sparkling knives, ugh.

the complaint: priscilla hired julian to decorate her apartment because he said he’d done so for several celebrities (haha ok) and she wants her money back because he did a horrible job.

what does she want: $3750 for what? i’m not sure yet. can you sue a person for having bad taste? countersuit: julian wants $1500 for “unpaid wages.” he is not going to get that!

how it went down: priscilla met julian in 2016 and they hit it off instantly and became best friends because she “fulfilled his desire of having a pretty girl best friend.” oh brother. let me tell you something: i am an ugly person with an extremely beautiful best friend, and nothing is more stressful and less gratifying than existing in the same space as this obnoxiously gorgeous bitch. when we’re out together strangers follow behind me on the street with poop bags! people throw cutlery at me in department stores while breathlessly asking her if she’s ok! anyway no one wants a hot friend, good-looking people are a curse.

priscilla got a new apartment and posted on instagram that she was looking for someone to decorate it. julian begged her to choose him, citing his experience with interior designing celebrity homes. uh can you just say that and pretend that it’s true? don’t you have to have a portfolio or something? i once handed (a person i thought was) justine bateman (it was dark, but i have seen every episode of family ties and i know that face i swear) her napkin when she dropped it between our tables at a very glamorous midwestern chain restaurant, does that make me a celebrity food stylist?! anyway julian says that priscilla is an exotic dancer who makes $10,000 a night and has multiple sugar daddies, and he’s saying it like she’s supposed to be ashamed and lmao fuck you dude THAT RULES.

julian says that he didn’t tell priscilla that he was a celebrity house decorator, he told her that he was MOMMA DEE’S ASSISTANT and that’s why she hired him, to get that clout. i’m not gonna lie, my breath caught in my chest when he said that shit. little scrappy’s momma dee?! my most beloved momma dee???? my absolute queen momma dee! i fucking love momma dee. y’all probably don’t watch love and hip hop atlanta and i’m sorry i can’t teach TASTE, but just know that she is an icon and even the honorable judge mathis can’t help but to stan.

priscilla hands the judge the contract she had julian sign and man that’s smart. i should write up more friend contracts. she says there are too many problems with the apartment to list them all but these are the four most egregious:
-the painting. he said he was going to paint the kitchen and loft and living room but he did a horrible job and got paint everywhere.
-barstools and a couch. he could find the burnt orange barstools she wanted and also sent her pictures of a custom couch he made for her and it was bedazzled and stapled together and she got mad because she wanted “a regular couch.”
-well we don’t get to number three because they start shouting at each other, which i seriously could listen to all day. these two are hilarious and i’m smitten with them. there’s a bunch of arguing back and forth about this horrifically gaudy couch, then julian says that he sold it at her instruction and bought her a different couch that she refuses to allow him to deliver so why is this even an issue. the judge catches her lying about whether or not the couch story is true (i gasped “yikes!” from my own gaudy couch) and you know it’s about to be curtains for young priscilla.

the ruling: JULIAN BROUGHT TEXT MESSAGES. come on, friends. let this be a lesson to us all that if you are conducting some shady business or reneging on a contract that you have to work “let’s hop on a call” into your lexicon so shit like this can’t come back to haunt you. everyone in hollywood is always like “can i call you in five?” and at first i would think “wow that’s so nice what a sweet personal touch they must really like me!” but now, after many bitter years of being let go and my projects falling through, when someone suggests we ~schedule some phone time~ i’m like “LOL I’M FUCKED.”

julian’s texts back up the (very confusing) story about the couch, and he claims that the $3750 she paid him was for the kitchen only, not the entire apartment. this seems right to me? i got a new toilet and faucet in the bathroom a month ago and had to pay $1100 for the pleasure of a gentleman from roto rooter getting rotten toilet water all over my goddamn rug and towels, so i can’t imagine what priscilla thought four grand was going to do in an entire condo she wanted painted and furnished?

the countersuit for labor is immediately contradicted by an enlarged and highlighted text conversation priscilla hands the judge in which julian says he doesn’t need labor fees (STOP TEXTING) so his case is dismissed. priscilla’s case is granted i’m not sure why other than one can only have so many segments on this hour-long show and tick fucking tock we’ve got gold bond and the general insurance to sell!

did uncle greg say anything fucked up to anyone: at one point priscilla and julian started screaming at each other across the courtroom while greg gleefully watched and giggled from behind a stack of evidence papers and after it was over he said “that’s funny! he said people don’t know your face because they only know your ass!” (i’m paraphrasing, the judge would never say A-S-S. this is a family program!)

*bangs gavel*