14th, May 2025
- Black Lawyer
- May 14
- 2 min read
Entry Title: The Battle of PlayStation Hill
Filed under: Sacred Petty
Dearest Diary,
It is a truth universally acknowledged—though rarely confessed aloud—that in the aftermath of modern love, the most brutal battles are not waged over homes or bank accounts… but over plastic consoles and pixelated pride.
Today, I bore witness to such a moment.
With the serene detachment of a woman who had survived both childbirth and a man who thinks “emotional intelligence” is a zodiac sign, my client looked me squarely in the eye and said:
"Let him keep the roof over his head. I’ll take what he really loves—the PlayStation."
I blinked.
She did not.
And so, with all the solemnity that the Texas Family Code can muster, I prepared for war—not over equity, but over the sacred altar of male escapism, where men spend hours shooting imaginary enemies while avoiding real accountability.
This wasn’t merely about electronics, Diary.
This was about principle.
About recompense.
About vengeance served in 4K resolution.
And let us be honest: what is more poetic than a woman obtaining sole possession of the very device her husband used to ignore her birthday, her emotions, and her repeated requests to take the chicken out the freezer?
Oh, how the mighty have fallen.
One minute you're shouting through a headset at teenagers named xX_KrOn1cSnIp3r_Xx… the next, your soon-to-be ex has exclusive rights to your controller and your dignity.
Thus, I drafted a proposed order that would make the gods weep:"Petitioner shall have exclusive use and possession of the Sony PlayStation, all connected accessories, and any games purchased during the marriage."
Let the record reflect, Diary, that I did not go to law school for this.
And yet—this is exactly why I went to law school.
Because justice, like revenge, sometimes wears the face of a woman casually deleting your entire Call of Duty progress while sipping cabernet in a satin robe.
I remain as ever, Poised. Petty. Not yet In the Possession of the PlayStation.

Disclaimer: This entry is fictionalized. Any resemblance to real pleadings—or misplaced PS5s—is purely coincidental, and delightfully so.
Tag someone who would fight for the PlayStation just to hear their ex whisper “where’s my save file?” at 3am.

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