I joined just after he left but yea I remember there was real hysteria at that time because the guy was using peoples' details to figure out who they were and then harassing them offline. People were paranoid of him back in like 2010 when I joined.

I know his real name.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5607667&forum_id=2\u0026mark_id=4942357",#48171361)

Somehow all of those articles seem to no longer be online.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5607667&forum_id=2\u0026mark_id=4942357",#48171398)

but yeah I suspect he has purposefully tried to remove his online presence

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5607667&forum_id=2\u0026mark_id=4942357",#48171431)

The "Heh, she likes to fuck" poast dates to 2013 and he stuck around a lot longer after that

http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=2217254&forum_id=2#22907429

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5607667&forum_id=2\u0026mark_id=4942357",#48171564)

Once upon a time in the vast and rugged expanse of Alaska, there was a young lawyer named Andrew Stebbins. Known for his impeccable suits and razor-sharp intellect, Andrew had graduated from Indiana University Law School after honing his skills at SUNY Buffalo. He worked at a small but respected law firm in Anchorage, where the isolation of the state often compounded the pressures of the legal profession.

But beneath the polished exterior, Andrew felt a gnawing sense of dissatisfaction. The legal world in Alaska was challenging, and despite his successes, he craved attention beyond the courtroom. In a moment of impulsive creativity, Andrew created an online persona: Danny Dooberstein, a quirky and outspoken lawyer who was unapologetically feminine.

Danny quickly became a sensation on various internet forums, known for his humorous takes on legal jargon and satirical posts about the profession. But as his online popularity grew, so did his outlandish antics. One fateful night, fueled by too much coffee and an impulsive streak, Andrew posted an image meant to be provocative—a picture of his reddened penis—alongside a post criticizing the toxic masculinity prevalent in the legal world.

The internet reacted predictably. While some were amused, others were horrified. But in a twist of fate, the picture ended up on a notorious racist message board frequented by disgruntled lawyers who reveled in mocking anyone who dared to step outside their rigid norms. The post about Danny Dooberstein quickly spiraled into a meme, with users sharing it widely and crafting all sorts of parodies.

“Look at this ‘lawyer,’” one user wrote. “Clearly he has a case of the red flags!” Another chimed in, “What’s next, a legal brief written in lipstick?” The comments turned into a cruel comedy show, and before long, Andrew became the laughingstock of the very profession he aspired to excel in.

Days turned into weeks, and the humiliation reached a fever pitch. Andrew couldn’t show his face at the law firm without being met with snickers and knowing glances. Colleagues who once respected him now looked at him with a mix of pity and amusement. His attempts to explain himself only made matters worse, and soon he was known as “Danny Dooberstein” not just online but in the real world too.

Feeling the weight of embarrassment, Andrew retreated from the law firm and the online world. He spent long nights reflecting on his decisions, replaying the moment he hit "post" on that fateful picture. It was a time for self-discovery, and as he sat alone in his small apartment, he began to explore what it truly meant to be authentic.

Gradually, Andrew decided to reclaim his narrative. He crafted a blog titled “Beyond the Law,” where he discussed mental health, the pressures of the legal profession, and the importance of being true to oneself. He shared his experience openly, revealing the struggles behind his online persona and the mistakes that led to his downfall.

Surprisingly, the blog resonated with many. Lawyers from various backgrounds across the state reached out, sharing their own tales of insecurity and the longing for acceptance in a judgmental world. The support he received became a balm for his wounded pride. Andrew learned that vulnerability could forge connections far deeper than the superficial admiration he had sought as Danny Dooberstein.

Months later, Andrew was invited to speak at a legal conference in Juneau. With trepidation, he took the stage and shared his story. As he spoke about the absurdity of his past antics and the importance of authenticity, the audience listened intently. By the end of his speech, he received a standing ovation, not for his former exploits, but for his courage to embrace his flaws and learn from them.

In the end, Andrew Stebbins transformed from a figure of ridicule into an advocate for change within the Alaskan legal community. Though the specter of Danny Dooberstein lingered, he learned to own it—not as a source of shame, but as a chapter in his journey towards genuine self-acceptance. And perhaps, just perhaps, the legal world in Alaska could learn a thing or two from a lawyer who dared to be different.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5607667&forum_id=2\u0026mark_id=4942357",#48171579)