This issue became moot when [defendant] filed it’s unopposed motion to
withdraw it’s Eleventh Amendment immunity assertions.

How do people get all the way through law school without understanding its v. it's? Misuse of either should result in automatic bar failure.

Plaintiffs rely on [affiant's] affidavit which is not only inadmissible
hearsay, it is incorrect.

Counsellor, I can excuse a failure to pair "not only" with "but also." It happens, though I don't like it. You have also, however, managed to generate both a comma splice and a comma omission in the same sentence. Wow.

No vernacular. Please.

Initially, it is beyond curious that a buyer, acting through a trust, buys
property for all cash, no contingencies, days after the death of a former owner,
without offers or counter-offers, no escrow, and no title. In today's
vernacular, “What's up with that?”

Stop trying to be cute! The law is not cute. Lawyers are not cute, nor are briefs. Accept it and move forward. Counsellor, you will then realize that there is no reason to say "What's up with that" in a brief.

Excluding historical linguistic analysis and possibly a few other contexts, "today's vernacular" is generally redundant.

You just tried to get too fancy, counsellor.

"This belies the falsity of the [habeas] applicant's tape-recorder claim."

FAIL.

Many of us grieve our employment decisions daily.

[The] County has adopted policy and procedures for grieving adverse
employment decisions.

Yes, there is a procedure. You can remember it with the helpful mnemonic DABDA¹: First you're in Denial about the adverse employment decision. Then you get Angry about the adverse employment decision. You begin to Bargain with God/boss about the adverse employment decision. Eventually you become Depressed about the adverse employment discrimination, but eventually you will Accept the adverse employment decision. It's a long process, but you just have to work through it.

¹ I can't say I ever expected to find myself linking to About.com for wisdom on death.

It's not a pinata, but it's still pretty sweet.

Oh, pinatas. Often I think back on the pinata brief, fondly of course. Such good times, so many laughs. [A video montage of my feelings on this matter would be set to the song "This used to be my playground." But that is neither here nor there.]

I miss the pinata brief. And while bad writing is everywhere, sometimes it lacks panache. I find myself wistfully sighing, "Where have all the pinatas gone?" I've tried, with some success, to recapture the joy it brought me. In my darker moments, I think that I will never see another piece of legal writing so melodramatic, so poetically overwritten as that.

But like that last swing at the pinata, after several whiffs, finally connecting when you thought you'd again be the laughingstock of all the kids at the party, this single sentence brings me hope:

"On November 29, plaintiff declared the legal equivalent of nuclear war by serving its first amended complaint on defendant."

So simple, so good.

And I'm sure you're wondering, What, what absolutely egregious legal maneuver, beyond all bounds of legal legitimacy, did plaintiff do? With the benefit of the entire (not that interesting) brief, I can enlighten you, gentle reader: Pretty much just serving a complaint. About real estate. Seriously.

There should be a cause of action for this.

These highly individualized claims are unique to each plaintiff.

Intentional infliction of unnecessary words.