Owners Corporation Of Xxx Building: Fill & Download for Free

Years ago in a southern city in the us there was a commercial block in a blue collar neighborhood. The block consisted of an adult book store, an adult theater that was originally the mainstream theater for the neighborhood, a furniture store and a drug store. All the businesses closed except the triple x rated theater. The operators maintained the property in exellent condition and were able to get “ State premiers”of xxx movies.A local activist decided that after 33 years of operating as an x rated theater she should push to have them stop showing xxx movies. She raised money and held rallies and tried all sorts of things. During all this activity, the owner of the block offered to sell the theater to her, her group, or the city community development department for $1 million dollars and to sever the lease the XXX operators had.The city refused. The group was unable to raise the funds. So “ suddenly” the theater changed programming from straight XXX movies to Gay XXX movies. This included large display ads in the local newspaper. This caused a big outcry and more donations to the group trying to buy the theater. Finally after several years of operating as a Gay XXX theater a local well known slum lord and a group of investors bought the block for one million cash.This was 30 years ago. The group converted the theater into a church and n a few years they sold the block to an investor who converted it into a live music venue and fully leased all the rental spaces. It sold last year for $6 million dollars.The appraised value of the block when the owner was asking $1 million was - $1 million if the theater was able to continue showing XXX movies. Absent the market for XXX movies, appraisers declared the entire block “ functionally obsolete “ and worth less than $350,000!!!Many people believe the out of state owner was behind the drive to have the theater no longer show x rated movies.Further, there is evidence to support that assertion and more evidence that the guy that bought it and converted it into a church with the funds raised by the anti porn groups were connected to the original building owner.Interestingly the church had the property held by a corporation based in Delaware , which made determine who the officers of the corporation hard to identify.Nobody seemed to really care, hurrah, it’s no longer a “ porn palace”.Good luck with your scheme. I agree with the other answers, you’re going to “ forfeit” the buildings doing what you proposed. The new residents will destroy them and the city will fine you and attach the buildings.

Most of the answers given thus far are accurate but I feel like they don’t give a complete picture. I’ve been a corporate lawyer in the US since 1986 when I passed the bar, so I will recount for you my own experiences. My path is only that: my path, that of a corporate lawyer starting out in a very large law firm and ending up working as an employee for one company who is in charge of all legal matters for that company.I started out in a large law firm—so my answer focuses on what it’s like to be a corporate lawyer in a large (by large, most attorneys mean over 500 attorneys, possibly a global law firm) well-known law firm. Most corporate lawyers follow some version of this same path—the firm may be smaller, hence the experience may be more gentle and the work at a less sophisticated level—but no one passes the bar and hangs out their shingle as a corporate lawyer, as one can do by handling general, small level litigation like divorces and traffic tickets. My first few years at this large law firm were at the same time awful and amazing. Awful because as some of the previous answers have stated, I worked 90-hour weeks (twice what most people work in a 40-hour week, and then some). I missed family gatherings, I missed the world going by outside, I missed anything that did not happen inside the walls of my firm. Awful because I had to keep track of the work I did in 6-minute increments, so the clients could be billed for my efforts. Awful because I was under constant pressure to bill enough hours every month—there were even contests for this dubious honor! I think just under 500 hours was my best month ever—but that was extraordinary. That is 20 hours a day for almost every day in that month.Why would I submit to all that? Well, for a number of reasons: because the pay was the best anywhere; because it was a very prestigious position in the legal world; because the clients I met were twice my age, all men, and the movers and the shakers and the powerful—folks I never would have met as just me; because I was single and had not much else to do and no one to go home to. Why was it amazing? Because I absolutely loved it! I loved what I was learning (as someone who’d never really had to work in school, I was challenged the first time in law school, and challenged even more when learning the practical piece of being a corporate lawyer in a top law firm), because I loved the smart, academic, critical thinking atmosphere, because I knew the work I was doing was, at time, cutting edge and some of the hardest and most sophisticated corporate legal work out there, and honestly, because I loved the prestige of being associated with such a large firm—it’s a huge accomplishment to secure one of those positions (even more so now). People return your calls. The letterhead on which you correspond inspires respect and sometimes fear—you are to be taken seriously because the respect your firm has rubs off on you. You can get tickets to any event around town you want—assuming you can make the time to go to it. And finally, because those years were a tremendous investment in my future, while I was young enough to work those kind of crazy hours. Think of it as the acquisition of skills, knowledge and experience at a double-time pace where one year really equalled two in terms of those things. I played the long game, not the short term game.Eventually, I was made a partner in that firm. But not much changed. My generation of attorneys realized that the law was no longer a profession for the elite (ie, those who were already independently wealthy —seriously, the firm I did my summer internship at paid its partners once a year back then!) but a business, and that the ability to attract clients was the key to moving up the large law firm ladder. (This is true not just for corporate lawyers in a large law firm but for any lawyer in a large law firm.) So I began to attract clients and build my own ‘business.’ In a large law firm, having a successful business of your own—we call it a ‘book of business’ or a client base—where you can not only support yourself but others (in terms of paying salaries) out of what your clients pay equals freedom. Freedom to be left alone, freedom to manage your clients and their matters how you want (within reason and the firm’s administrative rules), freedom to, if you choose, take that book and move to another firm who will pay you a higher percentage of the revenues you generate from that book. My generation surfed the wave of the law firm revolution. It used to be that there was a senior partner, likely whose name was somewhere in the firm’s name, who would tell you what your annual earnings would be, and not necessarily give you any reason or formula as to how that number was calculated. During my younger years, this changed, with the younger partners (ie, those who’d been practicing for maybe 10–15 years) demanding a higher cut of what they brought in or leaving to go to a firm that would give them that higher cut. Before then, you joined a firm and retired from that same firm. Now, it’s common to move yourself and your book several times over your career. As with the rest of corporate America, there’s no loyalty, there’s just dollars.I took my book to several firms successively, growing it at each firm and receiving a larger cut. By the time I had been practicing 20 years, I had a very nice book that I shared with another partner, also my age, who I’d come up through the ranks with. One of our clients that was about to ‘go public’, or make an initial public offering of its shares, invited me to join them as their in-house counsel (an attorney who is on the payroll of a company rather than working in a law firm, who only works on matters for that company, and is usually called a General Counsel or a Chief Legal Officer) and I have never looked back. I have now been an in-house counsel as long as I was a partner at a law firm, and there is no way I would ever go back to being a partner in a large law firm.Why not? Because large law firms are very competitive; they can be a very unhealthy, backstabbing environments—you’ve got about 12 folks in each ‘class’ (lawyers out of law school who start in the same year) vying for one or two partner slots after 15 years or so. It is thankless—most clients do not appreciate the sacrifice. I had a client call my home at one point on Easter Sunday (I am Christian) only to have my then 6 year old son explain to him why he shouldn’t be calling on that day. When clients of a firm at that level have a problem, they don’t respect ‘normal business hours.’ They have a problem, they call and want to offload it to you to fix. When they are buying a company, they want it to happen on a certain day—even if you and your team have to work around the clock for the five days preceding that day to make that happen. If your clients have an international business, they call when it’s convenient for them. They schedule conference calls when it’s convenient for them—even if that is the middle of the night for you. As a partner, the politics can be a nightmare. “You agree to vote for my associate as a partner and I’ll vote for yours.” “You agree to give me all of the work for your client xxx and I will share a higher percentage of the collections from that work with you.” The horse trading is constant and shifts depending on the horse trades the other partners offer and make, and frankly, it is exhausting to be on your constant guard and constantly monitoring your partners’ actions and horse trades to make sure you are holding or bettering your position. It is no longer about just providing quality legal services, it is about the economics of the firm. You can’t just be a good lawyer and not worry about those things—if that’s all you are, a good lawyer, you end up at the bottom of the partner heap, making very little compared to your partners and typically at some point you are un-partnered by the firm because you do not bring in enough business. Eventually, although I found myself with a very respectable book, supporting two partners and three associates, and able to make great horse trades, most of what I did at that point was sell our legal services—I did very little actual lawyering by then. And, I like the lawyering a lot more than I like the selling. And the routine never changes—it’s not like you can ever coast on your accomplishments.So, what is the actual lawyer work like? Well, you can read about that business acquisition that you stayed up all night to close in the Wall Street Journal, or the Financial Times. Your clients are well known, usually have very large budgets for legal work, and want their problems, which again are often in the news or the papers, solved correctly and immediately. It involves everything from the basics: incorporating them, drafting agreements among their owners as to who will do what with their equity, reviewing and preparing state of the art agreements for such things as manufacturing, software acquisition, their supply chain agreements, buying and selling other companies, taking them public, etc etc. It’s the top of the game when you are at a large law firm.After 20 years of that, I am much happier as a GC inside a company with an international business. There is still some of the midnight calling, but much more respect for one’s time. I have a family whom I actually spend time with now. I have what others would call significant wealth—I could not work if I chose. I only have occasional crises—real ones that I am needed to solve, not ones imagined to be crises by someone else. I actually get to take a vacation. I am a respected member of the so-called “C-suite”—the chief legal officer. I understand the workings of my client—ie, the company that pays my salary and benefits—much better than an outside lawyer ever can. I chose a company that does not have a harsh, backstabbing environment, so my days are mostly about mentoring the younger lawyers in my group of 40 lawyers, about teaching them the skills needed to be a good corporate lawyer and to become a GC one day. I share my knowledge and experiences to teach them how to draft the best corporate work product—the contracts, the relationships, the assets of the company, etc. My days are about strategizing for my company, about assisting it in thinking ahead about its markets, its products. Much more rewarding than selling legal services and monitoring my book to make sure it is producing enough and monitoring my partners to see what the pecking order is today.So, that’s what it has been like for me. It may sound awful to many of you out there, but I wouldn’t trade it.

I co-founded a social data analytics startup.At the beginning, I managed to convince one of the biggest communication groups in the world, XXX to invest and own a part of the equity. (we felt great!)Over time, we built a great product, signed up some kick ass brands including a bunch of Fortune 100 companies and got to an MRR of 50k a month.Then came the time to do fundraising. We worked hard and received a term sheet which we were happy with.Then the horror story began -to cut a long story short and to avoid breaking down as I type at Starbucks - we were unable to get the lawyers and managers of the big XXX group to agree to the reasonable terms that the new investors wanted in the contract.The discussions dragged on for 15 weeks and then the investors pulled out. By this time we were emotionally drained, tired, frustrated and angry. The company was in a limbo, enthusiasm was at its lowest, we had run out of our ‘runway’, and cracks started to appear in the founders’ resolve and friendship.That was 2 weeks ago and I decided to exit. This was the saddest day in my life.So what was the mistake? It was a failure to ensure that we as the cofounders have enough rights to make investment decisions on our own without the ‘big corporate’ having a veto over it.To clarify - this big group is not a traditional investor or VC - the problem is that they do not know how to work with a startup or how to work in a situation where they are only a minority partner…and we have been unable to convince them to see the light.:-(