It looks like Puffy's jackets came from Scruffy.
From the AP:
"Macy's has pulled from its shelves and its Web site two styles of Sean John hooded jackets, originally advertised as featuring faux fur, after an investigation concluded that the garments were actually made from a certain species of dog."
Those darn Chineese kids will sew up anything for twelve cents a day.
Saturday, December 23, 2006
Friday, December 22, 2006
The vacuum
I was cleaning up the apartment so that when I return from Christmas with my folks I will come home to a clean apartment and don’t have to worry about it. Thus making my return that much more enjoyable.
Anyway…
I am vacuuming the dining room and use the little detachable hose to get into the corners. It isn’t working very well. “Oh well” I figure it just needs to have the bag replaced. So I turn it off and open the cover.
STOP FILM
REWIND TO 3 WEEKS AGO
I am vacuuming and decide to replace the bag because it appears to be full. I take the bag out and throw it away. Upon a thorough search of the entire apartment, it appears that I am out of vacuum cleaner bags. I go to Wall-Mart but they are out of the bags for my vacuum. I return home and make a mental note to try somewhere else for vacuum cleaner bags. I remind you that mental notes are useless to me.
STOP FILM
NOW FAST FORWARD TO 1 WEEK AGO
Without knowing the bag is missing. I vacuum the entire house. I sneeze alot for a day or so.
STOP FILM
NOW FAST FORWARD TO THIS EVENING
I open the cover and look puzzled for a few moments. Then I realize. There is NO bag. The entire inside of the vacuum is full of fuzz, dust, and a fine sand like substance that I can only imagine is some sort of carpet freshening stuff that I have sucked up into the workings of the vacuum. The HEPA filters have kept everything inside the vacuum. Unfortunately doing this has also ruined all of the filters.
So then I go to Wal-Mart and fight the weekend before Christmas crowd in order to pick up new bags and filters.
Wal-Mart does not have the bags or filters. So I try the next place.
Home Depot does not have the bags or filters. So I try the next place.
Lowes has both the bags and all the filters. I spend 15 mintues trying to figure out which ones go to my vacuum because the filter packages all have the model numbers located conveniently on the package. This would be a great big help if my vacuum had a model number somewhere on it. There is no number anywhere. Just Eureka Hepa. I turned the thing over twice looking for a number. No cigar.
I get everything home and spend the next half hour cleaning out the vacuum and hoping that it does not explode the next time I use it.
I get every thing put back together close my eyes and press the start button. I jump back waiting for the vacuum to start blowing out dust like a Texas sandstorm or shoot sparks in all directions.
Nope, it just hums right along.
Mental note: When I become a lawyer - hire a maid.
Anyway…
I am vacuuming the dining room and use the little detachable hose to get into the corners. It isn’t working very well. “Oh well” I figure it just needs to have the bag replaced. So I turn it off and open the cover.
STOP FILM
REWIND TO 3 WEEKS AGO
I am vacuuming and decide to replace the bag because it appears to be full. I take the bag out and throw it away. Upon a thorough search of the entire apartment, it appears that I am out of vacuum cleaner bags. I go to Wall-Mart but they are out of the bags for my vacuum. I return home and make a mental note to try somewhere else for vacuum cleaner bags. I remind you that mental notes are useless to me.
STOP FILM
NOW FAST FORWARD TO 1 WEEK AGO
Without knowing the bag is missing. I vacuum the entire house. I sneeze alot for a day or so.
STOP FILM
NOW FAST FORWARD TO THIS EVENING
I open the cover and look puzzled for a few moments. Then I realize. There is NO bag. The entire inside of the vacuum is full of fuzz, dust, and a fine sand like substance that I can only imagine is some sort of carpet freshening stuff that I have sucked up into the workings of the vacuum. The HEPA filters have kept everything inside the vacuum. Unfortunately doing this has also ruined all of the filters.
So then I go to Wal-Mart and fight the weekend before Christmas crowd in order to pick up new bags and filters.
Wal-Mart does not have the bags or filters. So I try the next place.
Home Depot does not have the bags or filters. So I try the next place.
Lowes has both the bags and all the filters. I spend 15 mintues trying to figure out which ones go to my vacuum because the filter packages all have the model numbers located conveniently on the package. This would be a great big help if my vacuum had a model number somewhere on it. There is no number anywhere. Just Eureka Hepa. I turned the thing over twice looking for a number. No cigar.
I get everything home and spend the next half hour cleaning out the vacuum and hoping that it does not explode the next time I use it.
I get every thing put back together close my eyes and press the start button. I jump back waiting for the vacuum to start blowing out dust like a Texas sandstorm or shoot sparks in all directions.
Nope, it just hums right along.
Mental note: When I become a lawyer - hire a maid.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Grades coming in
Grades are starting to filter in. One of mine came in today. I know people that have several back already.
Do I wait until after Christmas (or even New Years) or do I check constantly everyday and obsess about it.
I think neither one. I am sure that every time a grade is posted online that I will get half a dozen text messages or phone calls telling me that another grade is in.
Will I have the self control to wait? Or do I dash madly to the nearest computer and log on to check? That is the big question.
If I was a professor, I think I would do all the grading ahead of time and then take the time after that to just relax over Christmas break instead of just doing a little here and a little there.
Hey – whatever gets me a good grade? I don’t really care. I just don’t want to think about it.
But I can’t help my self.
Do I wait until after Christmas (or even New Years) or do I check constantly everyday and obsess about it.
I think neither one. I am sure that every time a grade is posted online that I will get half a dozen text messages or phone calls telling me that another grade is in.
Will I have the self control to wait? Or do I dash madly to the nearest computer and log on to check? That is the big question.
If I was a professor, I think I would do all the grading ahead of time and then take the time after that to just relax over Christmas break instead of just doing a little here and a little there.
Hey – whatever gets me a good grade? I don’t really care. I just don’t want to think about it.
But I can’t help my self.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
blogging
I spent 20 minutes writing a blog. It was well worded and made some pretty good arguments. But when I read it I realized that the arguments were too full of holes. The arguments were well reasoned but had no facts to base the analysis on. There was no supporting material. I just wrote what I thought. I read it and then trashed the whole thing. If it doesn’t have facts to support it, then it is just fiction.
Law school does a lot of things to you. It definitely changes the way you think. I can’t even enjoy bitching about something anymore.
Law school does a lot of things to you. It definitely changes the way you think. I can’t even enjoy bitching about something anymore.
Monday, December 18, 2006
Bunco
The American Heritage dictionary defines “Bunco” as a swindle in which an unsuspecting person is cheated.
Saturday night I had been suckered into playing Bunco. I have never before played Bunco and probably will not play again. Bunco appears to be a dice game for women in which they all cheat furiously. The best cheater wins. You keep your own score and the one with the highest score wins. I paid 5 bucks along with 15 other partygoers to see which woman would lie the best.
I think the secret to Bunco is that you have to lie in such a manner that it is believable to all the other Buncoers. An outlandish score will draw attention and likely detract from your future invitations to play Bunco. But a score that is on the fringe of believability gets you the cash.
Ok here is the guy version of gambling:
You don’t EVER EVER EVER get to keep your own score!
We generally hire a guy in a striped shirt or at least someone to act as a dealer in order to keep the whole affair as honest as possible.
If somebody else got to keep his own score we would automatically call BS regardless of what he claimed, even if it was “zero”.
Even if your boys backed you by saying that you were not cheating, I am still calling BS and waiting for you outside to get my money back.
Guys would never invent a gambling game that involved someone ringing a little silver bell and certainly not one that requires you to yell “Buncing!” at any point.
I want my five bucks back
Saturday night I had been suckered into playing Bunco. I have never before played Bunco and probably will not play again. Bunco appears to be a dice game for women in which they all cheat furiously. The best cheater wins. You keep your own score and the one with the highest score wins. I paid 5 bucks along with 15 other partygoers to see which woman would lie the best.
I think the secret to Bunco is that you have to lie in such a manner that it is believable to all the other Buncoers. An outlandish score will draw attention and likely detract from your future invitations to play Bunco. But a score that is on the fringe of believability gets you the cash.
Ok here is the guy version of gambling:
You don’t EVER EVER EVER get to keep your own score!
We generally hire a guy in a striped shirt or at least someone to act as a dealer in order to keep the whole affair as honest as possible.
If somebody else got to keep his own score we would automatically call BS regardless of what he claimed, even if it was “zero”.
Even if your boys backed you by saying that you were not cheating, I am still calling BS and waiting for you outside to get my money back.
Guys would never invent a gambling game that involved someone ringing a little silver bell and certainly not one that requires you to yell “Buncing!” at any point.
I want my five bucks back
Monday, December 11, 2006
One More
One more test to go. In less than 24 hours it will all be over. I’m burnt out and trying to study. I think I did ok on the Criminal law test but forgot to talk about accomplice liability (Oh well, too late now – and besides, I am so burnt out that it took me 4 [no,5] times to type that last sentence). I have constitutional law tomorrow morning and then it will be over. That one has me worried.
I’ve got to go study.
I’ve got to go study.
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Saturday night, tractors, law school, & POS cars
1:14 am Saturday night
I just walked in the door from the law library.
Thinking: Damn, if this was not law school and I was regular Joe, I would not be coming in just yet. And if I was, I would be hammered.
Anyway. My neighbor (obviously inebriated – which is indicated by the angle by which her car is parked) has left her parking lights on. So I knock on her door, and call her, and I sent her a text message, all to no avail. The car lights remain on.
Not to worry. After years of driving a POS automobiles, I grew accustomed to carrying a wide variety of tools. Tools such as coat hangers; butter knives; duct tape; a variety of fuses; and of course, jumper cables in my car. (At one point I actually carried the front fender of my car in the back seat for a while - but that is another story.) I was “POS Car Super Jerry-rigger Extraordinaire”. After actually buying a real quality non-POS, I refuse to ever go back. I just hope that this one makes it through law school. If not, I will have to borrow my dad’s tractor.
Living in Montgomery, I would obviously need an alarm installed on it.
And since this is Montgomery, I will obviously need to get some sweet rims on it as well. I wouldn’t want anyone to laugh at me for driving a tractor to school without rims or at the very least some chrome spinners. I think John Deere green and chrome would go great together.
I could cruise into the law school parking lot, use the front end loader to push that annoying little Mercedes Benz out of the way and always have a parking spot right up front. I could lower the plow attachment onto the car behind me (that way it wouldn’t get dirty from the ground) and then walk into class, making sure to press the alarm button on the key chain so I could hear that neat little “chirp –chirp”.
I feel so utterly unprepared for my last two finals. I really have to get after it all day tomorrow and Monday morning. I have one final Monday afternoon and one first thing Tuesday morning.
I just walked in the door from the law library.
Thinking: Damn, if this was not law school and I was regular Joe, I would not be coming in just yet. And if I was, I would be hammered.
Anyway. My neighbor (obviously inebriated – which is indicated by the angle by which her car is parked) has left her parking lights on. So I knock on her door, and call her, and I sent her a text message, all to no avail. The car lights remain on.
Not to worry. After years of driving a POS automobiles, I grew accustomed to carrying a wide variety of tools. Tools such as coat hangers; butter knives; duct tape; a variety of fuses; and of course, jumper cables in my car. (At one point I actually carried the front fender of my car in the back seat for a while - but that is another story.) I was “POS Car Super Jerry-rigger Extraordinaire”. After actually buying a real quality non-POS, I refuse to ever go back. I just hope that this one makes it through law school. If not, I will have to borrow my dad’s tractor.
Living in Montgomery, I would obviously need an alarm installed on it.
And since this is Montgomery, I will obviously need to get some sweet rims on it as well. I wouldn’t want anyone to laugh at me for driving a tractor to school without rims or at the very least some chrome spinners. I think John Deere green and chrome would go great together.
I could cruise into the law school parking lot, use the front end loader to push that annoying little Mercedes Benz out of the way and always have a parking spot right up front. I could lower the plow attachment onto the car behind me (that way it wouldn’t get dirty from the ground) and then walk into class, making sure to press the alarm button on the key chain so I could hear that neat little “chirp –chirp”.
I feel so utterly unprepared for my last two finals. I really have to get after it all day tomorrow and Monday morning. I have one final Monday afternoon and one first thing Tuesday morning.
Saturday, December 09, 2006
the paper chase clip
I thought some of you might like this. Especially law students. This is a famous scene of the tyrannical Professor Kingsfield, played by John Houseman in “The Paper Chase”.
It is the "sculls full of mush" and “At times you may feel that you have found the correct answer. I can assure you that this is a total delusion on your part.” clip.
http://www.cs.uni.edu/~wallingf/blog-multimedia/the-study-of-the-law.wmv
You will have to cut it an paste it into the address window in your browser because for some reason it will not just let it be a clickable link.
It is the "sculls full of mush" and “At times you may feel that you have found the correct answer. I can assure you that this is a total delusion on your part.” clip.
http://www.cs.uni.edu/~wallingf/blog-multimedia/the-study-of-the-law.wmv
You will have to cut it an paste it into the address window in your browser because for some reason it will not just let it be a clickable link.
Friday night
Ok, so I avoided a complete and total mauling by the bear named "Civil Procedure Test". I may have escaped with only minor injuries.
However, (I swear to God that I have never started a written sentence with the word “However” until I started law school) His brother bears named “Criminal Law Test” and “Constitutional Law Test” are hot on my trail and hungry for blood.
If I “bob” when I should have “weaved” then I am a gonner.
Once again at midnight (this time on a Friday – OMG I need my freaking life back) I am the ONLY person now at the law school. It has been deserted by all but me since sometime around 10pm. I commandeered a conference room and now sit at the head of the board. Ok, so it isn’t really. But I am sitting at the big table all by myself and it makes me feel important if only for a short period of time.
My plan to get naked and run all willy-nilly through the halls of the law school was thwarted when I realized that the really bored security guy having to sit in front of the camera monitors all night may actually take the time to tape it and then post it on the internet because he has nothing else to do. So…..
I got another email from a friend that wanted to know if I was still alive. I actually took the time to respond to this one because I need to take a break from studying. I have not read a book that was NOT written by someone named Glannon or Emanuel or the good folks at Barbri, since forever. I need a break. My brain is full. I am tired. I am stressed. I am rushed. I am at wits end. When I get like this I usually take time out to go look at some of Norman Rockwell’s paintings online and it makes me feel better because everything is good there - and then there is balance in the world. Everything makes sense.
If I had the option of him painting me into any one of his paintings right now I don’t really know which one I would want to be in.
Because any place besides this law school would not seem like home.
As bad as this all sucks right now.
As bad as this all is.
As bad as it all seems.
This is where I belong.
However, (I swear to God that I have never started a written sentence with the word “However” until I started law school) His brother bears named “Criminal Law Test” and “Constitutional Law Test” are hot on my trail and hungry for blood.
If I “bob” when I should have “weaved” then I am a gonner.
Once again at midnight (this time on a Friday – OMG I need my freaking life back) I am the ONLY person now at the law school. It has been deserted by all but me since sometime around 10pm. I commandeered a conference room and now sit at the head of the board. Ok, so it isn’t really. But I am sitting at the big table all by myself and it makes me feel important if only for a short period of time.
My plan to get naked and run all willy-nilly through the halls of the law school was thwarted when I realized that the really bored security guy having to sit in front of the camera monitors all night may actually take the time to tape it and then post it on the internet because he has nothing else to do. So…..
I got another email from a friend that wanted to know if I was still alive. I actually took the time to respond to this one because I need to take a break from studying. I have not read a book that was NOT written by someone named Glannon or Emanuel or the good folks at Barbri, since forever. I need a break. My brain is full. I am tired. I am stressed. I am rushed. I am at wits end. When I get like this I usually take time out to go look at some of Norman Rockwell’s paintings online and it makes me feel better because everything is good there - and then there is balance in the world. Everything makes sense.
If I had the option of him painting me into any one of his paintings right now I don’t really know which one I would want to be in.
Because any place besides this law school would not seem like home.
As bad as this all sucks right now.
As bad as this all is.
As bad as it all seems.
This is where I belong.
Friday, December 08, 2006
Monster
There is a vicious, ferocious, mean, ill tempered, monster of a bear stalking me.
Its name is “Civil Procedure Test”. It has been stalking me all semester. It is close to catching up with me. I expect it to attack me about 2pm tomorrow.
Its name is “Civil Procedure Test”. It has been stalking me all semester. It is close to catching up with me. I expect it to attack me about 2pm tomorrow.
Gumpism # 2
Dubs: (noun)
Twenty-two inch car rims.
From the number “two” being said twice, thus doubled “twos” = 22
As in: “I got that heavy chevy ridin’ on Dubs.”
Dubs that spin continuously after stopping are called “spinners”.
Twenty-two inch car rims.
From the number “two” being said twice, thus doubled “twos” = 22
As in: “I got that heavy chevy ridin’ on Dubs.”
Dubs that spin continuously after stopping are called “spinners”.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Gumpism # 1
I constantly get barraged with new “street terms” for things. So I am starting my own ghetto dictionary called “Gumpisms”. That way you can be caught up on the new slang and never left out of the loop when talking to your friends.
Gumpism Number 1
Dunk: (noun)
Refers to a highly customized 70's era chevy usually with 20 plus inch rims, candy paint jobs, and booming sound systems.
Believed to have originated from the word Dunky (pronouced "dun-kee") which is the large posterior of a woman.
As in the song lyrics by the 69 boys – “Gimmie that dunky butt and ‘em big ole legs. I aint too proud to beg. I’m gonna break it down and beg like James. Ple-ease, Ple-ease. Let me ride that dunky dunky. Let me ride that dunky dunky.”
Gumpism Number 1
Dunk: (noun)
Refers to a highly customized 70's era chevy usually with 20 plus inch rims, candy paint jobs, and booming sound systems.
Believed to have originated from the word Dunky (pronouced "dun-kee") which is the large posterior of a woman.
As in the song lyrics by the 69 boys – “Gimmie that dunky butt and ‘em big ole legs. I aint too proud to beg. I’m gonna break it down and beg like James. Ple-ease, Ple-ease. Let me ride that dunky dunky. Let me ride that dunky dunky.”
Domo Arigato, Mr. Roboto
Time and again through out law school I am asked by those that live outside the hallowed halls of justice “Is it hard?”
Duh!
I am at a loss to tell them exactly how hard it is.
It is nothing like graduate school of any kind other than maybe doctors or veterinarians. (but then again I nearly failed undergrad biology sooooooo)
I have figured out a way to explain it
Imagine putting together a something really complicated. Say a robot.
You have only rudimentary diagram written in Chinese in which you can understand the occasional tab “A” going into slot “B”.
You spend five or ten minutes staring at the diagram and then back at the pile of parts trying to figure it out. It is confusing and your brain just can’t quite seem to grasp what goes where and why.
Now imagine doing that 12 to 15 hours a day.
Now imagine no diagram and no picture of what it is supposed to look like when it is assembled.
Now imagine that the robot looks different where you live because your state decided it should look a certain way.
Now imagine that if you don’t get the robot assembled in time, and correctly, you loose your job and go substantially into debt all at the same time.
Now imagine that you can only find out how to put the contraption together by going to classes in which you read about tiny electronic parts that seem to have nothing to do with how it works. You can’t asks questions, but the teacher asks YOU questions about how you think it should work.
Then tells you that you are wrong.
Then you go into debt to buy books that tell you about each part.
Some of the other people who are putting together robots may lie to you about how to put the robot together so that yours will not work.
Then they tell you draw your own diagram and put the parts together.
Then you show up one day and they hand you a new pile of parts and give you three hours to put it all together and explain how you put it together.
If you can’t put your robot together in time or if your robot works but does not work as good or look as pretty as the other robots your family is ashamed of you, everyone considers you a failure, and you have to pay the robot people 20 grand for allowing you to try to put together their robot.
If you do succeed, you get to put together 4 more robots this semester and then you get to do that for about 3 years.
Then you get to try to put together a giant robot made out of all your other robots. But the state gets to design your robot and the pieces don’t really fit. You are supposed to find the pieces that fit together the best.
If your robot doesn’t work you wasted 3 years and 100 grand and can’t work for anybody putting together robots because you are not licensed to do so.
By the way -
I took out the trash today.
Duh!
I am at a loss to tell them exactly how hard it is.
It is nothing like graduate school of any kind other than maybe doctors or veterinarians. (but then again I nearly failed undergrad biology sooooooo)
I have figured out a way to explain it
Imagine putting together a something really complicated. Say a robot.
You have only rudimentary diagram written in Chinese in which you can understand the occasional tab “A” going into slot “B”.
You spend five or ten minutes staring at the diagram and then back at the pile of parts trying to figure it out. It is confusing and your brain just can’t quite seem to grasp what goes where and why.
Now imagine doing that 12 to 15 hours a day.
Now imagine no diagram and no picture of what it is supposed to look like when it is assembled.
Now imagine that the robot looks different where you live because your state decided it should look a certain way.
Now imagine that if you don’t get the robot assembled in time, and correctly, you loose your job and go substantially into debt all at the same time.
Now imagine that you can only find out how to put the contraption together by going to classes in which you read about tiny electronic parts that seem to have nothing to do with how it works. You can’t asks questions, but the teacher asks YOU questions about how you think it should work.
Then tells you that you are wrong.
Then you go into debt to buy books that tell you about each part.
Some of the other people who are putting together robots may lie to you about how to put the robot together so that yours will not work.
Then they tell you draw your own diagram and put the parts together.
Then you show up one day and they hand you a new pile of parts and give you three hours to put it all together and explain how you put it together.
If you can’t put your robot together in time or if your robot works but does not work as good or look as pretty as the other robots your family is ashamed of you, everyone considers you a failure, and you have to pay the robot people 20 grand for allowing you to try to put together their robot.
If you do succeed, you get to put together 4 more robots this semester and then you get to do that for about 3 years.
Then you get to try to put together a giant robot made out of all your other robots. But the state gets to design your robot and the pieces don’t really fit. You are supposed to find the pieces that fit together the best.
If your robot doesn’t work you wasted 3 years and 100 grand and can’t work for anybody putting together robots because you are not licensed to do so.
By the way -
I took out the trash today.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
trash day
During finals I have been pretty busy. I really just stop at my apartment to sleep, put the clothes in the washer into the dryer, put the clothes in the dryer on a pile in the chair in the living room, then shower, grab some clothes from the pile in the chair, and leave again. Lately I have rarely eaten here. Hopefully this will all change after finals and I can clean up, watch tv, and just chill for a bit. Untill then the schedule will have to continue for a bit.
I tied up the trash the other day to carry it to the dumpster at my apartment. The dumpster being a large mechanical device that no one here knows how to operate, and is conveniently located a quarter mile away and then uphill. So I plan on taking out the trash quite regularly but it never happens as planned.
As I said before, I tied up the trash and then closed the lid again, meaning very well to carry it out. But, alas. I did not do it. Apparently I got in a hurry and forgot. Since then I have not put anything in that trash can. Yesterday morning I stumbled into the kitchen to look in the fridge. (This by the way is pointless. I know good and well that I have not been grocery shopping in at least a week.) Anyway I notice the smell. Which is undoubtedly coming from the trash can and make a mental note to take it out.
Note: mental notes are as good as gone during finals time. If it doesn’t have anything to do with law school and I don’t write it on a post it note and staple it to my forehead I wont remember.
This means that if I really want to carry out the trash and don’t want to forget I need to bag it up and set it out side the door so that I trip over it and am forced to take it to the dumpster. There are two problems with this.
1. Most people frown on trash bags just laying around in front of the apartments and;
2. The lovely ducks that grace the ponds around my apartment are carniverous and will tear into aforementioned trash bags like raving lunatics. Thus leaving your previously well manicured plastic container of smelly trash now strewn across half of God’s creation. At which point you can either blame it on your neighbor or suck it up and pretend you are doing time for community service and pick up the damn trash.
I prefer to do neither. Therefore I didn’t take out the trash
So tonight I come home and notice something amazing. There is NO smell in the kitchen??????
Whatever is in there has either:
1. Decomposed to the point that it no longer stinks.
2. Has been carried away as carrion by vultures who were let in accidentally by the maintenance man; or
3. by ants (there are no ants in my kitchen so I ruled this one out – or on the other hand they may have decided that there was nothing fit to eat here and moved on); or
4. has regenerated and is now lying in wait for me to open the lid to carry it out tomorrow. As we all now know, lying is wait will constitute first degree murder and I will be well within my rights to bludgeon it to death in self defense.
So right now I am making a mental note to carry out the trash. On second thought… Where is that stapler anyway?
I tied up the trash the other day to carry it to the dumpster at my apartment. The dumpster being a large mechanical device that no one here knows how to operate, and is conveniently located a quarter mile away and then uphill. So I plan on taking out the trash quite regularly but it never happens as planned.
As I said before, I tied up the trash and then closed the lid again, meaning very well to carry it out. But, alas. I did not do it. Apparently I got in a hurry and forgot. Since then I have not put anything in that trash can. Yesterday morning I stumbled into the kitchen to look in the fridge. (This by the way is pointless. I know good and well that I have not been grocery shopping in at least a week.) Anyway I notice the smell. Which is undoubtedly coming from the trash can and make a mental note to take it out.
Note: mental notes are as good as gone during finals time. If it doesn’t have anything to do with law school and I don’t write it on a post it note and staple it to my forehead I wont remember.
This means that if I really want to carry out the trash and don’t want to forget I need to bag it up and set it out side the door so that I trip over it and am forced to take it to the dumpster. There are two problems with this.
1. Most people frown on trash bags just laying around in front of the apartments and;
2. The lovely ducks that grace the ponds around my apartment are carniverous and will tear into aforementioned trash bags like raving lunatics. Thus leaving your previously well manicured plastic container of smelly trash now strewn across half of God’s creation. At which point you can either blame it on your neighbor or suck it up and pretend you are doing time for community service and pick up the damn trash.
I prefer to do neither. Therefore I didn’t take out the trash
So tonight I come home and notice something amazing. There is NO smell in the kitchen??????
Whatever is in there has either:
1. Decomposed to the point that it no longer stinks.
2. Has been carried away as carrion by vultures who were let in accidentally by the maintenance man; or
3. by ants (there are no ants in my kitchen so I ruled this one out – or on the other hand they may have decided that there was nothing fit to eat here and moved on); or
4. has regenerated and is now lying in wait for me to open the lid to carry it out tomorrow. As we all now know, lying is wait will constitute first degree murder and I will be well within my rights to bludgeon it to death in self defense.
So right now I am making a mental note to carry out the trash. On second thought… Where is that stapler anyway?
Night Owl
Not much to report today.
It is 1 in the morning and I am the only person (I think) at the law school. I shut down the library around midnight and kicked out all the Faulkner Univ. students who were there studying for finals. The law students had long since left.
I sat in one of the class rooms with some buds going over criminal law for a while but they bailed about 12:30 or so.
Civil Procedure is on Friday and then I have two tests next week (Crim. law on Monday afternoon and Con. Law on Tuesday morning – then work at the law library on Tuesday night till midnight) This means that I have to either prepare some more during the week for these two tests or do it all this weekend. Civ. Pro. might not be the hardest test but it is surely the one that offers the most opportunity for confusion and trip ups. Crim. Law I expect to be mostly elements and Con law is…… Well, hell, it is Constitutional Law. Theoretically it is pretty challenging.
Well, I hear security coming around to lock up the building since they think no one is here. So I will say goodbye for now.
It is 1 in the morning and I am the only person (I think) at the law school. I shut down the library around midnight and kicked out all the Faulkner Univ. students who were there studying for finals. The law students had long since left.
I sat in one of the class rooms with some buds going over criminal law for a while but they bailed about 12:30 or so.
Civil Procedure is on Friday and then I have two tests next week (Crim. law on Monday afternoon and Con. Law on Tuesday morning – then work at the law library on Tuesday night till midnight) This means that I have to either prepare some more during the week for these two tests or do it all this weekend. Civ. Pro. might not be the hardest test but it is surely the one that offers the most opportunity for confusion and trip ups. Crim. Law I expect to be mostly elements and Con law is…… Well, hell, it is Constitutional Law. Theoretically it is pretty challenging.
Well, I hear security coming around to lock up the building since they think no one is here. So I will say goodbye for now.
Monday, December 04, 2006
first final is over
Today I had my first final for the semester which was property. The dean of our law school taught this semester and I was able to find about 7 of his previous tests (most of which with model answers and covered an entire decade) from the Pepperdine web site. He used to teach there. Between that and the two finals that I had from him since being at my school I pretty much thought I knew what he was going to ask.
WRONG!!!!!!
Out of all the tests that I was able to look at, this was by far the hardest.
Before I even got to school my buddy called and asked me to come pick him up. His truck had been broken into over the course of the night and his radio, cd changer and whatnot were gone. He didn’t have time to call the cops before the test so we decided to do it afterwards. I picked him up and we proceeded to the school.
The proctor passed the exams down the row, carefully counting out each one. She came up short on every row. How do you do that? I mean miscounting once, maybe twice is excusable but damn.
Anyway we all get the exam and proceed to start the software for softest (Examsoft – Hey, this may be Alafreakinbama but technology hasn’t completely passed us by), and sure enough every other computer in the room restarts with that stupid annoying “taaadaaadaaa”. This is after the poor woman has asked everyone to mute their computers. So after diligently listening to the instructions I shoved a set of ear plugs in and went to work. The earplugs being quite useful because at least 50% of the class has depth perception problems and punches the keyboard with each stroke using the same force as Mike Tyson hitting a heavy bag.
By the end of the multi-state portion (that’s multiple choice to the rest of the world) I would have agreed that the answer was a shifting reversionary contingency interest in the remainder of a 3rd parties contract liability that did not violate the rule of perpetuities due to the second charity exception or something to that effect. (Don’t worry, if you didn’t understand enough about property law for that last sentence to be funny then you understand almost as much as I do.) At this point I chose the letter of the day which is “C”, because that is what I hope to salvage out of this test.
The first essay wasn’t horrible but there wasn’t enough time to finish it.
The second essay was so convoluted that there was no clear answer or way to argue it. Maybe I will post more about it after the A.D.D. folks finish taking their 6 hours to take the test (remind me to rant about that later).
We got back to my buddies place and called the cops. Some short fat black chick who squeaks when she talks showed up 15 minutes later, spent 5 minutes writing his personal information and asking him if he had the serial numbers to his stolen stereo (honestly, who keeps track of that crap – apparently folks who are able to get their stolen merchandise back from the pawn shop – that’s who). No fingerprints, no elaborate CSI investigation. Just a “Call us if you find anything else missing.”
My buddy asks: “What happens now?”
She says: “I don’t know I don’t work crime. I just do traffic.”
I was thinking: “Well I guess the night stick, pepper spray, handcuffs, and 9mm are all to protect the cop from those darn murderous speed demons out there terrorizing the community. Wow, I run a stop sign and my ass is grass but as far as crime – oh well. I guess that means you can steal anything you want as long as you walk. But if the get away car is too speedy you may get a ticket.”
So that’s it. I have one test down and several more to go. The week is just beginning and it is not looking so great for the home team. I think I know a guy from back home that sells meth. Maybe he can talk to some folks, put in a good word and get me a job on a corner. Apparently if my corner is in Montgomery and I walk to work I will never get busted.
WRONG!!!!!!
Out of all the tests that I was able to look at, this was by far the hardest.
Before I even got to school my buddy called and asked me to come pick him up. His truck had been broken into over the course of the night and his radio, cd changer and whatnot were gone. He didn’t have time to call the cops before the test so we decided to do it afterwards. I picked him up and we proceeded to the school.
The proctor passed the exams down the row, carefully counting out each one. She came up short on every row. How do you do that? I mean miscounting once, maybe twice is excusable but damn.
Anyway we all get the exam and proceed to start the software for softest (Examsoft – Hey, this may be Alafreakinbama but technology hasn’t completely passed us by), and sure enough every other computer in the room restarts with that stupid annoying “taaadaaadaaa”. This is after the poor woman has asked everyone to mute their computers. So after diligently listening to the instructions I shoved a set of ear plugs in and went to work. The earplugs being quite useful because at least 50% of the class has depth perception problems and punches the keyboard with each stroke using the same force as Mike Tyson hitting a heavy bag.
By the end of the multi-state portion (that’s multiple choice to the rest of the world) I would have agreed that the answer was a shifting reversionary contingency interest in the remainder of a 3rd parties contract liability that did not violate the rule of perpetuities due to the second charity exception or something to that effect. (Don’t worry, if you didn’t understand enough about property law for that last sentence to be funny then you understand almost as much as I do.) At this point I chose the letter of the day which is “C”, because that is what I hope to salvage out of this test.
The first essay wasn’t horrible but there wasn’t enough time to finish it.
The second essay was so convoluted that there was no clear answer or way to argue it. Maybe I will post more about it after the A.D.D. folks finish taking their 6 hours to take the test (remind me to rant about that later).
We got back to my buddies place and called the cops. Some short fat black chick who squeaks when she talks showed up 15 minutes later, spent 5 minutes writing his personal information and asking him if he had the serial numbers to his stolen stereo (honestly, who keeps track of that crap – apparently folks who are able to get their stolen merchandise back from the pawn shop – that’s who). No fingerprints, no elaborate CSI investigation. Just a “Call us if you find anything else missing.”
My buddy asks: “What happens now?”
She says: “I don’t know I don’t work crime. I just do traffic.”
I was thinking: “Well I guess the night stick, pepper spray, handcuffs, and 9mm are all to protect the cop from those darn murderous speed demons out there terrorizing the community. Wow, I run a stop sign and my ass is grass but as far as crime – oh well. I guess that means you can steal anything you want as long as you walk. But if the get away car is too speedy you may get a ticket.”
So that’s it. I have one test down and several more to go. The week is just beginning and it is not looking so great for the home team. I think I know a guy from back home that sells meth. Maybe he can talk to some folks, put in a good word and get me a job on a corner. Apparently if my corner is in Montgomery and I walk to work I will never get busted.
Saturday, December 02, 2006
One and a half days till finals start
I slept half the day away trying to let everything set in and recharge. Unfortunately that means I probably wont be able to go to sleep tonight and therefore not tomorrow night either. So tonight I will take a Tylenol pm or some heavy narcotic such as Nyquil (the nighttime, sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, fever, how the hell did I wake up on my kitchen floor after drinking this magic elixir medicine).
I swear to god this is the truth. This is actually what the back of the card says:
Emmanuel Law in a flash Real Property Card number 168
REMEMBERING JOING TENANCY
“To remember this: Keep in mind that “joint" in drug parlance, is a marijuana cigarette.
Mental Picture: Imagine 3 people you know sitting around in a circle passing a “joint” from one to the other. One takes a puff and passes it to another, who in turn does the same thing to the third, and so on. The “joint” passes to the other two, as in joint tenenacy = right of survivorship in the other tenants”
How, exactly did that one slip through?
I swear to god this is the truth. This is actually what the back of the card says:
Emmanuel Law in a flash Real Property Card number 168
REMEMBERING JOING TENANCY
“To remember this: Keep in mind that “joint" in drug parlance, is a marijuana cigarette.
Mental Picture: Imagine 3 people you know sitting around in a circle passing a “joint” from one to the other. One takes a puff and passes it to another, who in turn does the same thing to the third, and so on. The “joint” passes to the other two, as in joint tenenacy = right of survivorship in the other tenants”
How, exactly did that one slip through?
Friday, December 01, 2006
Sleep
I got to sleep last night. YEA!!!!
9 hours.
But now I feel like I missed some valuable study time. LOL
I gota quit blogging and get to the library.
9 hours.
But now I feel like I missed some valuable study time. LOL
I gota quit blogging and get to the library.
Thanks Manda
My Professor sent out an email saying that she forgot to give us an explanation of a term that we would need for the test.
It said:
"Carnal knowledge" means the penetration of the female sex organ by the male sex organ.
My friend Amanda sent me her notes. Her explanation was just a little different:
“Carnal knowledge” = penetration of bagina by pee pee.
I love me some Manda. The only girl I know that decided her keyboard was way too tacky with all of those silly numbers and letter and decided to put happy bunny stickers on them instead. Her and her hubby took me to the Warped Tour in Atlanta this past summer (and bought my ticket). They rock!
It said:
"Carnal knowledge" means the penetration of the female sex organ by the male sex organ.
My friend Amanda sent me her notes. Her explanation was just a little different:
“Carnal knowledge” = penetration of bagina by pee pee.
I love me some Manda. The only girl I know that decided her keyboard was way too tacky with all of those silly numbers and letter and decided to put happy bunny stickers on them instead. Her and her hubby took me to the Warped Tour in Atlanta this past summer (and bought my ticket). They rock!
The Monkey fish frog Controversy
Mr. Garrison explains evolution: Yes, it is funny. Yes, you want to watch it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yFjfc2M7gRY
The next time we have to come up with a stupid team name for something I am absolutely insisting on “The Monkey Fish Frogs”.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yFjfc2M7gRY
The next time we have to come up with a stupid team name for something I am absolutely insisting on “The Monkey Fish Frogs”.
Congrats to my peeps
Coming from a small podunk town in the middle of nowhere I certainly appreciate the way it feels to be under rated, unexpected, and unwanted. Our trial team did really well against some top notch schools a few weeks ago (Which is extra cool because our school is newly accredited and for the most part not all that well respected because of that. TRANSLATION: Underdog). I always assumed that folks on these teams were like most of the crowd of gunners. To my pleasant surprise all of these folks are top notch, really nice, and pretty cool.
The following email was sent by one of our professors. I don’t know if they would want their names on my blog, so I removed them:
During the second week of November, H, G, N, & R represented the law school in the Buffalo/Niagara Mock Trial Invitational in Buffalo, New York. This was the largest trial competition in the nation with forty schools competing at one location. After the first two preliminary rounds only 10 of the 40 schools were still undefeated. We were one of the ten. Our defense team H & G defeated Chicago-Kent in an excellent trial with both teams scoring extremely high. The next morning our plaintiff team of N & R defeated St. Mary's in another high scoring affair. Unfortunately we lost a split decision in the third round and finished the preliminary round tied for eighth place with Temple, Cumberland, Michigan State, Illinois, Georgia State, Georgia and the two teams we had already defeated Chicago-Kent and St. Mary's. Through a complicated matrix of tiebreakers that I would happy to explain to anyone after exams, our team was left out of the advancing cut. (We fell just behind the University of Georgia - a team that was swept by the same Chicago team we defeated.)
The following email was sent by one of our professors. I don’t know if they would want their names on my blog, so I removed them:
During the second week of November, H, G, N, & R represented the law school in the Buffalo/Niagara Mock Trial Invitational in Buffalo, New York. This was the largest trial competition in the nation with forty schools competing at one location. After the first two preliminary rounds only 10 of the 40 schools were still undefeated. We were one of the ten. Our defense team H & G defeated Chicago-Kent in an excellent trial with both teams scoring extremely high. The next morning our plaintiff team of N & R defeated St. Mary's in another high scoring affair. Unfortunately we lost a split decision in the third round and finished the preliminary round tied for eighth place with Temple, Cumberland, Michigan State, Illinois, Georgia State, Georgia and the two teams we had already defeated Chicago-Kent and St. Mary's. Through a complicated matrix of tiebreakers that I would happy to explain to anyone after exams, our team was left out of the advancing cut. (We fell just behind the University of Georgia - a team that was swept by the same Chicago team we defeated.)
Thursday, November 30, 2006
3 days till finals
Last night I had a bout of insomnia and didn't get to sleep till around 5:30am.
I missed both my crim law review and a study session with some friends.
Did I lay in bed and think constantly about law?
Hell No!
All I could think about was my undergrad biology class.
But now I remember that Adenine, thymine, cytosine, and guanine are the building blocks of DNA. That has to be usefull to me sometime in the future. NOT!!!!!
Stress sucks.
I missed both my crim law review and a study session with some friends.
Did I lay in bed and think constantly about law?
Hell No!
All I could think about was my undergrad biology class.
But now I remember that Adenine, thymine, cytosine, and guanine are the building blocks of DNA. That has to be usefull to me sometime in the future. NOT!!!!!
Stress sucks.
4 days till finals
I have decided that I am not addicted to caffeine.
It just makes the headaches go away and makes me feel normal.
I tried Starbucks for a while but I was going to have to take out an extra loan to keep it up through finals. There is a coffee pot in the break room at school but the coffee always tastes like an unusuall mixture of stale urine and industrial waste when you make it there. The gas station down the street has excellent coffee. You can get an industrial size cup for $1.75 and you get mix your own.
My mix:
1/2 Columbian
1/4 Blend
1/4 Vanilla Latte
Enough sugar to send a diabetic into shock
Enough cream to make a cow cry
Put it into their usually leaky styrofoam cup
(screw the environment – I NEED HOT COFFEE!)
and then mix it together with a stir stick that is entirely too short. Attach the leaky lid, try to avoid squeezing it to hard when you go out the door, and then hold the precious precarious cargo in your lap because my buddy’s old truck doesn’t have cup holders. We usually make it back to the school with sticky hands and toasty warm crotches.
I once squeezed the cup just wrong after spending my last 2 bucks to buy the coffee. It went everywhere. I felt like Lenny from “Mice and Men”, having just squished my precious pet. I wanted to lick my sticky hand to stay awake but you just have to act a certain way around these high browed law folks.
It just makes the headaches go away and makes me feel normal.
I tried Starbucks for a while but I was going to have to take out an extra loan to keep it up through finals. There is a coffee pot in the break room at school but the coffee always tastes like an unusuall mixture of stale urine and industrial waste when you make it there. The gas station down the street has excellent coffee. You can get an industrial size cup for $1.75 and you get mix your own.
My mix:
1/2 Columbian
1/4 Blend
1/4 Vanilla Latte
Enough sugar to send a diabetic into shock
Enough cream to make a cow cry
Put it into their usually leaky styrofoam cup
(screw the environment – I NEED HOT COFFEE!)
and then mix it together with a stir stick that is entirely too short. Attach the leaky lid, try to avoid squeezing it to hard when you go out the door, and then hold the precious precarious cargo in your lap because my buddy’s old truck doesn’t have cup holders. We usually make it back to the school with sticky hands and toasty warm crotches.
I once squeezed the cup just wrong after spending my last 2 bucks to buy the coffee. It went everywhere. I felt like Lenny from “Mice and Men”, having just squished my precious pet. I wanted to lick my sticky hand to stay awake but you just have to act a certain way around these high browed law folks.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Crim. Law
This morning was the last class session of criminal law. Usually a last class session is good for finishing up a subject and then answering some general questions.
At the end of class (if the students feels that the professor is deserving) the students award the professor with a round of applause. The prof. Makes some “aww shucks” looks and leaves hurridly and ashamedly, only to pause in the hallway to gloat in their own admiration.
But today…
My crim law professor decided that we needed to know a great deal of material that was not covered during the semester. Therefore we cover almost as many criminal offenses in a little over an hour as we have covered the entire semester (and not on the syllabus). So add that material to the final. Holy Crap! You just doubled my study load for your class a week before the final. Not only did you just double it. You didn’t explain any of the material enough that it made sense.
The students were so stunned that we just got up and shuffled away. No thank you for the professor lady today. Just stunned silence.
I loved this class all semester. Nobody ever dies from natural causes in crim law. It is just fun. But today changed all that. Now it goes to the bottom of the suck pile. Too bad I already filled out the evaluation.
At the end of class (if the students feels that the professor is deserving) the students award the professor with a round of applause. The prof. Makes some “aww shucks” looks and leaves hurridly and ashamedly, only to pause in the hallway to gloat in their own admiration.
But today…
My crim law professor decided that we needed to know a great deal of material that was not covered during the semester. Therefore we cover almost as many criminal offenses in a little over an hour as we have covered the entire semester (and not on the syllabus). So add that material to the final. Holy Crap! You just doubled my study load for your class a week before the final. Not only did you just double it. You didn’t explain any of the material enough that it made sense.
The students were so stunned that we just got up and shuffled away. No thank you for the professor lady today. Just stunned silence.
I loved this class all semester. Nobody ever dies from natural causes in crim law. It is just fun. But today changed all that. Now it goes to the bottom of the suck pile. Too bad I already filled out the evaluation.
6 days till finals
It has come that time in the semester where things no longer make sense.
If you are an average person with only a basic understanding of the material and taking the test you could probably sift through it and do ok. But by the end of the semester your head is so convoluted with the differing rules, caveats, exceptions, and subtle differences that it no longer makes sense.
I am at the point where the sponge is full and any attempt to fill it any more is in vain. I read paragraphs of material 3 or 4 times in order to understand it because my thoughts trail off on the wildest tangents as synapses try to connect information.
The only problem is that now is the time I need these things to be coming together for the tests next week.
On a lighter note, I yelled at some underclassmen outside the library and told them to be quiet. They hung their heads in shame and scampered away (slamming the door on the way out in a vain attempt at rebellion).
The law school was at least 85 degrees today because the ventilation system has been on the fritz since this weekend. Some guys showed up at 5:30pm today and flipped a couple of switches. It was fixed immediately. Hmmm, higher education at it finest.
If you are an average person with only a basic understanding of the material and taking the test you could probably sift through it and do ok. But by the end of the semester your head is so convoluted with the differing rules, caveats, exceptions, and subtle differences that it no longer makes sense.
I am at the point where the sponge is full and any attempt to fill it any more is in vain. I read paragraphs of material 3 or 4 times in order to understand it because my thoughts trail off on the wildest tangents as synapses try to connect information.
The only problem is that now is the time I need these things to be coming together for the tests next week.
On a lighter note, I yelled at some underclassmen outside the library and told them to be quiet. They hung their heads in shame and scampered away (slamming the door on the way out in a vain attempt at rebellion).
The law school was at least 85 degrees today because the ventilation system has been on the fritz since this weekend. Some guys showed up at 5:30pm today and flipped a couple of switches. It was fixed immediately. Hmmm, higher education at it finest.
Monday, November 27, 2006
one week till finals
One week till finals - I thought I would break the tension with a little funny.
This is the heartless lawyer joke of the week:
One afternoon a wealthy lawyer was riding in his limousine when he saw
two men along a country roadside eating grass. Disturbed, he ordered
his driver to stop and he got out to investigate the situation. He
asked one man, "Why are you eating grass?"
"We don't have any money for food," the poor man replied. "We have to
eat grass."
Shocked, the lawyer said, "Well, then, you can come with me to my
house and I'll feed you."
"But sir. I have a wife and two children with me. They are over
there, under that tree."
Bring them along," the lawyer replied. Turning to the other poor man
he said, "You come with us, too."
The second man said, "But sir, I also have a wife and SIX children
with me!"
"Bring them all!" the lawyer answered. They all jammed into the huge
limo.
Once underway, one of the poor fellows turned to the lawyer and
said, "Sir, you are too kind. Thank you for taking all of us with you."
Genuinely touched, the lawyer replied, "Glad to do it. You'll really
love my place; the grass is almost a foot high
This is the heartless lawyer joke of the week:
One afternoon a wealthy lawyer was riding in his limousine when he saw
two men along a country roadside eating grass. Disturbed, he ordered
his driver to stop and he got out to investigate the situation. He
asked one man, "Why are you eating grass?"
"We don't have any money for food," the poor man replied. "We have to
eat grass."
Shocked, the lawyer said, "Well, then, you can come with me to my
house and I'll feed you."
"But sir. I have a wife and two children with me. They are over
there, under that tree."
Bring them along," the lawyer replied. Turning to the other poor man
he said, "You come with us, too."
The second man said, "But sir, I also have a wife and SIX children
with me!"
"Bring them all!" the lawyer answered. They all jammed into the huge
limo.
Once underway, one of the poor fellows turned to the lawyer and
said, "Sir, you are too kind. Thank you for taking all of us with you."
Genuinely touched, the lawyer replied, "Glad to do it. You'll really
love my place; the grass is almost a foot high
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
less than 2 weeks till finals
So it is 4:30 am and I am still up. Oh no, I have not studied in hours, not since midnight. I am just still up thinking about tests and what I need to do instead of getting my sleep and being able to study the way I need to.
The day after tomorrow is Thanksgiving. That beloved time of year where we give thanks for the gifts we have received and give hints of the gifts that we wish to receive a month from now. At this point I am asking for new book bags since mine are falling apart from a year of heavy use and a semester of the heaviest Con Law book ever created. It is more of a weapon than anything, but you have to be a power lifter to wield it against a foe. I actually used it as a door stop once this semester. A heavy door at that.
I will drive up to the parents for a few hours of merriment and several helpings of turkey. We started deep frying them a few years ago instead of baking. I imagine that, folks in the south deep frying something. Who would have figured? I swear if somebody went to the moon and shot the first space creature that jumped from behind a rock- they would bring it back to earth, we would batter it up and deep fry it.
“Hmmmm, tastes like chicken.”
Happy thanksgiving yall.
The day after tomorrow is Thanksgiving. That beloved time of year where we give thanks for the gifts we have received and give hints of the gifts that we wish to receive a month from now. At this point I am asking for new book bags since mine are falling apart from a year of heavy use and a semester of the heaviest Con Law book ever created. It is more of a weapon than anything, but you have to be a power lifter to wield it against a foe. I actually used it as a door stop once this semester. A heavy door at that.
I will drive up to the parents for a few hours of merriment and several helpings of turkey. We started deep frying them a few years ago instead of baking. I imagine that, folks in the south deep frying something. Who would have figured? I swear if somebody went to the moon and shot the first space creature that jumped from behind a rock- they would bring it back to earth, we would batter it up and deep fry it.
“Hmmmm, tastes like chicken.”
Happy thanksgiving yall.
Monday, October 23, 2006
cursing in law school
Way back when I got out of high school I joined the Marine Corps.
In boot camp I really admired the drill instructors for their ability to curse with such fluid use and visual imagery of the English language. It was a real treat.
That type of language is apparently in disfavor with the law school establishment. They seem to prefer a more diminutive approach.
Professor: Can you compare this case to (insert odd notes case of little consequence that you should have read and then disregarded a month ago)
Me: Jesus, Mary, and Doggy style Joseph. How the f*&% am I supposed to know that s#!@. You are out of your f*%#ing mind. That jumbled up word jam piece of dog t!@# case didn’t make sense then and belongs in this conversation like a f*%^$ing rusty screen door belongs on d@*# submarine. Unscrew your head and tell us what we need to know for your d!#@ test. You overbearing windbag.
The more appropriate response according to the law school hierarchy:
Professor: Can you compare this case to (insert odd notes case of little consequence that you should have read and then disregarded a month ago)
Me: Could you rephrase the question. (While franticly scanning the case for some hope of recalling why this case is even in the book in the first place)
Law school would be much more entertaining that way. But then again law school professors can’t hit you either. So I guess it is an even trade out.
In boot camp I really admired the drill instructors for their ability to curse with such fluid use and visual imagery of the English language. It was a real treat.
That type of language is apparently in disfavor with the law school establishment. They seem to prefer a more diminutive approach.
Professor: Can you compare this case to (insert odd notes case of little consequence that you should have read and then disregarded a month ago)
Me: Jesus, Mary, and Doggy style Joseph. How the f*&% am I supposed to know that s#!@. You are out of your f*%#ing mind. That jumbled up word jam piece of dog t!@# case didn’t make sense then and belongs in this conversation like a f*%^$ing rusty screen door belongs on d@*# submarine. Unscrew your head and tell us what we need to know for your d!#@ test. You overbearing windbag.
The more appropriate response according to the law school hierarchy:
Professor: Can you compare this case to (insert odd notes case of little consequence that you should have read and then disregarded a month ago)
Me: Could you rephrase the question. (While franticly scanning the case for some hope of recalling why this case is even in the book in the first place)
Law school would be much more entertaining that way. But then again law school professors can’t hit you either. So I guess it is an even trade out.
6 weeks to finals
So tomorrow morning starts the 6 weeks run to finals.
Here is where the rubber really starts to meet the road and the studying and preparation are essential to the continued existence of all who embark on this path.
In other words: I have 6 weeks to get my shit wired up tight.
I have learned from stuff in the past.
Right now I have no steady girlfriend. We will keep it that way. Experience has taught me the hard way that chicks love to cause drama the week before finals. (One in particular, but she is currently many miles away). My life is currently drama free and I prefer to keep it that way until after finals.
Eating right and staying healthy now become important. Finals time is a period where stress wears on your body. Not eating healthy because you are always rushed for time multiplies the problem (not to mention flu season being on it’s way) mean that if I let myself get wore down just before finals then I walk in there not at my best. So junk food needs to be a thing left over for after finals.
Beer – the great equalizer; motivator; inhibition releaser; sexual aid; tension reducer; beloved toxin – has to be parted with for a short while. I can’t deal with the residual cobwebs in my head that seem to last for days after a bender.
Caffeine – oh you sweet darling. Come to me now my friend in the form of Starbucks coffee. We will become one. To you I swear allegiance.
Life – goodbye as I know it. Hello Library.
Here is where the rubber really starts to meet the road and the studying and preparation are essential to the continued existence of all who embark on this path.
In other words: I have 6 weeks to get my shit wired up tight.
I have learned from stuff in the past.
Right now I have no steady girlfriend. We will keep it that way. Experience has taught me the hard way that chicks love to cause drama the week before finals. (One in particular, but she is currently many miles away). My life is currently drama free and I prefer to keep it that way until after finals.
Eating right and staying healthy now become important. Finals time is a period where stress wears on your body. Not eating healthy because you are always rushed for time multiplies the problem (not to mention flu season being on it’s way) mean that if I let myself get wore down just before finals then I walk in there not at my best. So junk food needs to be a thing left over for after finals.
Beer – the great equalizer; motivator; inhibition releaser; sexual aid; tension reducer; beloved toxin – has to be parted with for a short while. I can’t deal with the residual cobwebs in my head that seem to last for days after a bender.
Caffeine – oh you sweet darling. Come to me now my friend in the form of Starbucks coffee. We will become one. To you I swear allegiance.
Life – goodbye as I know it. Hello Library.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Spinach
OK. So maybe I have not logged in and updated my blog as often as I really need to. But hey, that is the life in law school. Everything else suffers for the good of the cause.
I have been so out of touch that I didn’t realize that apparently spinach is killing people.
That’s right. I said it. Spinach is killing people. At least that is what I was told.
It all started innocently enough at a recent cook out with my family who I went up to visit on an odd weekend. I asked my sister if she made ‘that spinach dip”? She acted appalled and responded with an exasperated “Don’t you know that spinach will kill you!”
No as a matter of fact I did not. I knew spinach could kill your taste buds with blandness and blah, but I did not know that it would kill you, kill you.
I have never like spinach and spinach has never liked me.
I have had a grudge against spinach for years and now it had come to a head. Spinach had finally made public the fact that it was out to get me. For a moment I didn’t know how. Maybe it would be a drive by at the farmer’s market or perhaps a convenient “slip and fall” on the produce isle. And what if Spinach didn’t kill me but only maimed me and turned me into “gasp” – A vegetable!
Much to my surprise spinach isn’t exactly running around with knives exacting revenge by killing unsuspecting teenagers as they attempt to make party dip. It has something to do with E. Coli bacteria.
The only spinach that I have ever eaten was in dip. And to be real honest, the dip might have been better with out it. So now I have a reason not to have to ever eat spinach again.
The thing that is sticking in my craw is that spinach really was out there gunning for me the whole time. I’ll have to learn to keep my vegetable enemies under a closer watch.
The next time I am with a girl who offers me something that looks vaguely like spinach and says “Here, try this.” I can ask what it is and when she replies “spinach”. I can slap it out of her hand and yell “Good God don’t you know that stuff is deadly? You’re lucky that I was here to save you!”
Goodbye forever you vile weed.
I have been so out of touch that I didn’t realize that apparently spinach is killing people.
That’s right. I said it. Spinach is killing people. At least that is what I was told.
It all started innocently enough at a recent cook out with my family who I went up to visit on an odd weekend. I asked my sister if she made ‘that spinach dip”? She acted appalled and responded with an exasperated “Don’t you know that spinach will kill you!”
No as a matter of fact I did not. I knew spinach could kill your taste buds with blandness and blah, but I did not know that it would kill you, kill you.
I have never like spinach and spinach has never liked me.
I have had a grudge against spinach for years and now it had come to a head. Spinach had finally made public the fact that it was out to get me. For a moment I didn’t know how. Maybe it would be a drive by at the farmer’s market or perhaps a convenient “slip and fall” on the produce isle. And what if Spinach didn’t kill me but only maimed me and turned me into “gasp” – A vegetable!
Much to my surprise spinach isn’t exactly running around with knives exacting revenge by killing unsuspecting teenagers as they attempt to make party dip. It has something to do with E. Coli bacteria.
The only spinach that I have ever eaten was in dip. And to be real honest, the dip might have been better with out it. So now I have a reason not to have to ever eat spinach again.
The thing that is sticking in my craw is that spinach really was out there gunning for me the whole time. I’ll have to learn to keep my vegetable enemies under a closer watch.
The next time I am with a girl who offers me something that looks vaguely like spinach and says “Here, try this.” I can ask what it is and when she replies “spinach”. I can slap it out of her hand and yell “Good God don’t you know that stuff is deadly? You’re lucky that I was here to save you!”
Goodbye forever you vile weed.
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
that guy
Suddenly there he is again
That guy
You know the guy I’m talking about.
A little older – maybe back in back in law school after a long hiatus – maybe here for the first time – maybe he retired or something
He talks all the time. He raises his hand or has a comment at least half a dozen times in every class. Sometimes he does so with only minutes left in class. He always has a question. He always has an answer.
He is the hyperactive old guy.
He is excited to be here, and he shows it. He is, in his mind, is the comeback kid.
There is only one small problem. Everybody already hates him.
I really want to sit him down and talk to him and explain what he needs not to do, but I don’t really care enough about him to do it. On the other hand, if I do not, I will have to sit in class with him and be annoyed every day. Oh the delima. Do I stand back and watch this guy commit social suicide or do I talk with him. It probably won’t do any good anyway. And if I do talk to him, I immediately become a friend to him and he will talk to me all the time. I don’t want to talk to him all the time. I don’t even want to know him. I just want him to not annoy me every day for the rest of the semester.
That guy
You know the guy I’m talking about.
A little older – maybe back in back in law school after a long hiatus – maybe here for the first time – maybe he retired or something
He talks all the time. He raises his hand or has a comment at least half a dozen times in every class. Sometimes he does so with only minutes left in class. He always has a question. He always has an answer.
He is the hyperactive old guy.
He is excited to be here, and he shows it. He is, in his mind, is the comeback kid.
There is only one small problem. Everybody already hates him.
I really want to sit him down and talk to him and explain what he needs not to do, but I don’t really care enough about him to do it. On the other hand, if I do not, I will have to sit in class with him and be annoyed every day. Oh the delima. Do I stand back and watch this guy commit social suicide or do I talk with him. It probably won’t do any good anyway. And if I do talk to him, I immediately become a friend to him and he will talk to me all the time. I don’t want to talk to him all the time. I don’t even want to know him. I just want him to not annoy me every day for the rest of the semester.
Starting my second year of law school
As of Friday, my iron fisted dean relinquished her hold my schedule and I was allowed to complete registration for this fall (this fall being Monday). I am now a full time law student. My room mate faired similarly and is moving to full time as well.
So….
Monday brings about a new year, a new set of obstacles, and a new set of people to either make friends with or grind under my heel.
If the thought of grinding people under your heel makes you laugh – then you are an extreme overbearing “type A” weirdo - and there are some things that you should know:
A. Nobody likes you.
B. Everybody hates you.
C. You should just go eat worms.
I still have a few 1L classes to take. We start fresh in three classes with incoming 1Ls and have two classes with the returning 2Ls. I guess this makes me something like a 1.5L (I think I had a Honda once with that engine).
But that means a whole new set of faces to get used to and also to have to put up with.
Unfortunately in alienates me from the group of students with whom I started night classes. (There have been a few that have voiced there disapproval because of the tight bond that the group has formed. We didn’t have ANY of the proverbial backstabbing and infighting over grades. Nobody tried to screw each other over with false info or holding back critical info. All the same, it is just too bad. I am not going to law school to make them happy.) It also alienates us a little from the incoming 1Ls. I am torn between being really nice & making new friends by helping them, or letting them squirm and suffer as I did.
In the end I suppose it will be a little of both. After all, I have stuff to do.
This semester looks to be loads of fun and hard work. For some strange reason I am looking forward to it. I am not excited in the traditional nerdy sense of being happy to be in school
But more in the way of:
Each class being part of the puzzle to take the final,
Each final being part of the puzzle to finish law school,
Law school being the part of the puzzle required to take the bar.
The bar being the part of the puzzle that makes me able to start practicing.
I know it is all a long way off, but I have to remember what I am here for.
Surprisingly if you concentrate too much on the end goal you end up missing the ball in front of your face and your goal will move that much further away.
So on the first day of class we sit through the thing where all the 1Ls have to stand up and tell who they are and some interesting fact that makes them great. Instead of listening to everybody I take the time to make a list of all the hot 1L girl’s names as they speak and a quick note so that I can talk to them later on.
So….
Monday brings about a new year, a new set of obstacles, and a new set of people to either make friends with or grind under my heel.
If the thought of grinding people under your heel makes you laugh – then you are an extreme overbearing “type A” weirdo - and there are some things that you should know:
A. Nobody likes you.
B. Everybody hates you.
C. You should just go eat worms.
I still have a few 1L classes to take. We start fresh in three classes with incoming 1Ls and have two classes with the returning 2Ls. I guess this makes me something like a 1.5L (I think I had a Honda once with that engine).
But that means a whole new set of faces to get used to and also to have to put up with.
Unfortunately in alienates me from the group of students with whom I started night classes. (There have been a few that have voiced there disapproval because of the tight bond that the group has formed. We didn’t have ANY of the proverbial backstabbing and infighting over grades. Nobody tried to screw each other over with false info or holding back critical info. All the same, it is just too bad. I am not going to law school to make them happy.) It also alienates us a little from the incoming 1Ls. I am torn between being really nice & making new friends by helping them, or letting them squirm and suffer as I did.
In the end I suppose it will be a little of both. After all, I have stuff to do.
This semester looks to be loads of fun and hard work. For some strange reason I am looking forward to it. I am not excited in the traditional nerdy sense of being happy to be in school
But more in the way of:
Each class being part of the puzzle to take the final,
Each final being part of the puzzle to finish law school,
Law school being the part of the puzzle required to take the bar.
The bar being the part of the puzzle that makes me able to start practicing.
I know it is all a long way off, but I have to remember what I am here for.
Surprisingly if you concentrate too much on the end goal you end up missing the ball in front of your face and your goal will move that much further away.
So on the first day of class we sit through the thing where all the 1Ls have to stand up and tell who they are and some interesting fact that makes them great. Instead of listening to everybody I take the time to make a list of all the hot 1L girl’s names as they speak and a quick note so that I can talk to them later on.
Sunday, August 06, 2006
Why I am here
I posted this blog on myspace a short while back and thought I would move it here as well.
Why I am here
I have this friend named Tom. He is lawyer in N. Alabama & a pretty successful one too. He has a wife and two fantastic kids. Tom has a brother named Tim.
Tim was in a car accident when we were kids. He was hurt pretty bad and had health problems every since. He occasionally has seizures. A good guy all the way around though. He helped me move one time.
Years ago Tims family sued the car manufacturer because the truck they had bought their son did not have any side impact protection. The case went through several appeals. Finally the court found for the car manufacturer. The reasoning was simple:
If Tim’s family wanted more protection, they should have spent more money and bought a better vehicle.
Wow! Think about that. Follow the logic. That is the kind of decision that people who have always had money make.
I met Tom in college. He became one of my very best friends. We came from similar backgrounds and had a lot in common. Because of the things that happened to him when he was young (lets say he had some legal troubles of his own as a kid) and because his family got the short end of the legal stick on Tim’s trial, Tom decided to become an attorney.
This was not an easy task. No one expected him to make it, certainly not the local establishment. He didn’t come from the right family. They didn’t have money. They wrote him off as never amounting to much. Tom was like me. We come from humble backgrounds, no white collars. No fairy tails. No princess and princesses. No castles in the old country. No senator’s sons. No southern mansions or graceful plantations. No. Just men who came home at the end of a day with dirt under their fingernails and sweat soaked shirts. Tom was not part of the old guard and certainly not part of the good old boy system that permeates so much of southern small town law.
But he struggle through it. Tom graduated from a prestigious law school.
Tim’s struggles created a drive in Tom to become a lawyer. Tom was the one (along with another good friend) who after some trouble in my own life drove me to make the decision to go to law school. So in some strange way, Tim is responsible for me being where I am at today.
Your life is like the threads of a giant spider web, a tiny vibration can be felt very far away. A thing that seems so trivial in your life may affect a person so far away in such a huge way, and you will never know it. In other words: You do not know how the events and decisions of your life will affect a person who your life comes into contact with.
Tom’s wife called me late last night. Tim died. He had a seizure and aspirated in his sleep.
I hurt for my friend Tom. He loved his brother very much. Even though Tim was older, Tim looked up to him.
So Tim, this is what I promise you
I will pursue this thing to its end with a renewed vigor.
No life is wasted, because you have the power to affect other people. And in the end, that is what it is all about.
Why I am here
I have this friend named Tom. He is lawyer in N. Alabama & a pretty successful one too. He has a wife and two fantastic kids. Tom has a brother named Tim.
Tim was in a car accident when we were kids. He was hurt pretty bad and had health problems every since. He occasionally has seizures. A good guy all the way around though. He helped me move one time.
Years ago Tims family sued the car manufacturer because the truck they had bought their son did not have any side impact protection. The case went through several appeals. Finally the court found for the car manufacturer. The reasoning was simple:
If Tim’s family wanted more protection, they should have spent more money and bought a better vehicle.
Wow! Think about that. Follow the logic. That is the kind of decision that people who have always had money make.
I met Tom in college. He became one of my very best friends. We came from similar backgrounds and had a lot in common. Because of the things that happened to him when he was young (lets say he had some legal troubles of his own as a kid) and because his family got the short end of the legal stick on Tim’s trial, Tom decided to become an attorney.
This was not an easy task. No one expected him to make it, certainly not the local establishment. He didn’t come from the right family. They didn’t have money. They wrote him off as never amounting to much. Tom was like me. We come from humble backgrounds, no white collars. No fairy tails. No princess and princesses. No castles in the old country. No senator’s sons. No southern mansions or graceful plantations. No. Just men who came home at the end of a day with dirt under their fingernails and sweat soaked shirts. Tom was not part of the old guard and certainly not part of the good old boy system that permeates so much of southern small town law.
But he struggle through it. Tom graduated from a prestigious law school.
Tim’s struggles created a drive in Tom to become a lawyer. Tom was the one (along with another good friend) who after some trouble in my own life drove me to make the decision to go to law school. So in some strange way, Tim is responsible for me being where I am at today.
Your life is like the threads of a giant spider web, a tiny vibration can be felt very far away. A thing that seems so trivial in your life may affect a person so far away in such a huge way, and you will never know it. In other words: You do not know how the events and decisions of your life will affect a person who your life comes into contact with.
Tom’s wife called me late last night. Tim died. He had a seizure and aspirated in his sleep.
I hurt for my friend Tom. He loved his brother very much. Even though Tim was older, Tim looked up to him.
So Tim, this is what I promise you
I will pursue this thing to its end with a renewed vigor.
No life is wasted, because you have the power to affect other people. And in the end, that is what it is all about.
Saturday, August 05, 2006
confessions of a low GPA law student
So finals for the summer are over and in just a few days we re-embark on a brand new year of law school.
I can’t say that I am particularly ready but I am excited.
There are still some things up in the air concerning my schedule for this coming year. After a year of part time law school, I am poised to enter this year as a full time student. There is only one tiny hiccup.
My iron fisted dean still holds my schedule in her hands. Depending on this summer’s grades, I will either be back in part time or in full time.
I can’t say that I blame the law school in not wanting a part time student to switch to full time status, particularly in the second year. By moving to full time, I will be taking two 1L classes. This will close a seat to an incoming 1L in those classes and therefore effectively close an entire 1L slot. This reduces the incoming 1L class by exactly one person. To make things worse, a handful of my fellow part time students have made the same decision.
Here is the funny part
Grades are due in AFTER classes start. WTF! What are they gonna do? Let me start taking the classes and then bump me back if needed?
I can see it now:
“Hi, we hate to interrupt your class professor, but we have a kid in here that isn’t smart enough to be here. Let me see. Oh yes, there he is. The big dumb looking fellow sitting 3rd row from the back - The one in flip flops – looking surprised – the one trying to look smart and doing a really bad job of it – yes that one.
Have him bathed to see if you can remove the smell of stupidity and bring him to the faculty suite. We will put him in a cage and poke sticks at him. You may want to have someone escort him. Otherwise the poor dumb SOB will likely get lost. Someone that stupid should not be left alone. He may hurt himself. Why is he not wearing a helmet anyway?”
I have to check in with the Dean next week and we will find out.
By the way – my room mate is in the same boat.
So we sit and wait.
I can’t say that I am particularly ready but I am excited.
There are still some things up in the air concerning my schedule for this coming year. After a year of part time law school, I am poised to enter this year as a full time student. There is only one tiny hiccup.
My iron fisted dean still holds my schedule in her hands. Depending on this summer’s grades, I will either be back in part time or in full time.
I can’t say that I blame the law school in not wanting a part time student to switch to full time status, particularly in the second year. By moving to full time, I will be taking two 1L classes. This will close a seat to an incoming 1L in those classes and therefore effectively close an entire 1L slot. This reduces the incoming 1L class by exactly one person. To make things worse, a handful of my fellow part time students have made the same decision.
Here is the funny part
Grades are due in AFTER classes start. WTF! What are they gonna do? Let me start taking the classes and then bump me back if needed?
I can see it now:
“Hi, we hate to interrupt your class professor, but we have a kid in here that isn’t smart enough to be here. Let me see. Oh yes, there he is. The big dumb looking fellow sitting 3rd row from the back - The one in flip flops – looking surprised – the one trying to look smart and doing a really bad job of it – yes that one.
Have him bathed to see if you can remove the smell of stupidity and bring him to the faculty suite. We will put him in a cage and poke sticks at him. You may want to have someone escort him. Otherwise the poor dumb SOB will likely get lost. Someone that stupid should not be left alone. He may hurt himself. Why is he not wearing a helmet anyway?”
I have to check in with the Dean next week and we will find out.
By the way – my room mate is in the same boat.
So we sit and wait.
Friday, August 04, 2006
Finals are done. Went to go see a band tonight called "Rehab"
Check 'em out on Myspace!
I felt really good because I had just finished my last final. The bouncer tried to stop me but I walked right by like I own the place and he never said another word.
(Confidence saved me a $15 dollar cover charge - I rock!!)
They had the best song lyrics ever
"She broke my heart in the trailer park
so I jacked the keys to her f'n' car
And Crashed the peice of s*&^!!!!
then I stepped awaaaaaaaay"
or then agian there was
"I got a drinkin' problem maaaan
I got one mouth and two hands
and an empty can"
My friend Ed found it appropriate and funny to give my phone number to some really big girl and then charge me $5 for a hat that the Miller guys gave him for free (but I really wanted it). I am going to his house tommorrow and drink enough of his beer to pay for it.
I am home.
I am happy.
I am relieved. One more rounds of finals is over.
Check 'em out on Myspace!
I felt really good because I had just finished my last final. The bouncer tried to stop me but I walked right by like I own the place and he never said another word.
(Confidence saved me a $15 dollar cover charge - I rock!!)
They had the best song lyrics ever
"She broke my heart in the trailer park
so I jacked the keys to her f'n' car
And Crashed the peice of s*&^!!!!
then I stepped awaaaaaaaay"
or then agian there was
"I got a drinkin' problem maaaan
I got one mouth and two hands
and an empty can"
My friend Ed found it appropriate and funny to give my phone number to some really big girl and then charge me $5 for a hat that the Miller guys gave him for free (but I really wanted it). I am going to his house tommorrow and drink enough of his beer to pay for it.
I am home.
I am happy.
I am relieved. One more rounds of finals is over.
Monday, July 31, 2006
A GUMPISM: Push the botton and Blow it up
Heard on the local hip-hop music station near 5pm:
DJ: “Now this is my favorite time of the day. 97.9 Jams What’s your name?”
Caller: “Trianna” (the “ah” sound at the end continues on for some time)
DJ: “What you rollin’ in?”
Caller: “A Suburban.”
DJ: “Oh yea, Rollin in the big Burban!”
DJ: “What is your favorite radio station?”
Caller: “97.9 Jams.”
DJ: “Now push the button and BLOW IT UUUUUUUUP!!!”
ME: Did I just hear the sound of a car horn?
DJ: “Next caller. 97.9 Jams. What’s your name?”
Caller 2: “Demarcus”
DJ: “Demarcus what are you rollin’ in?”
Caller 2: A red Explorer with twenty twos.”
DJ: “Oh yea, Rollin in Exploder sittin’ on Dubs!”
DJ: “What is your favorite radio station?”
Caller 2: “97.9 Jams is my favorite radio station.”
DJ: “Yeaaaa! Now push the button and BLOW IIIIIIT UUUUUUUUP!!!”
I definitely heard it that time. It was a car horn honking.
That was it.
They call in and tell him what kind of car they are riding in. He asks them to tell him that this is their favorite radio station, and then he asks them to honk their horn.
I got dumber just listening to it.
It was like that retarded kid that lived across the street that got sheer joy out of honking the horn when his parents put him on their lap while driving. This was before car seats were the “in” thing for overprotective parents and way before the overprotective parents decided that parents that were not overprotective were bad parents and made it into law.
– PS. These same goobers are the reason that a grown adult must wear a helmet while riding a bicycle three miles an hour in the city park. I don’t really think I need a helmet because I am not chasing Lance Armstrong at the speed of light or blazing down a mountain biking trail.
But then again, maybe some of these kids not wearing a helmet is the reason that I have to listen to a round of “Push the button and blow it up” every weekday at 5.
DJ: “Now this is my favorite time of the day. 97.9 Jams What’s your name?”
Caller: “Trianna” (the “ah” sound at the end continues on for some time)
DJ: “What you rollin’ in?”
Caller: “A Suburban.”
DJ: “Oh yea, Rollin in the big Burban!”
DJ: “What is your favorite radio station?”
Caller: “97.9 Jams.”
DJ: “Now push the button and BLOW IT UUUUUUUUP!!!”
ME: Did I just hear the sound of a car horn?
DJ: “Next caller. 97.9 Jams. What’s your name?”
Caller 2: “Demarcus”
DJ: “Demarcus what are you rollin’ in?”
Caller 2: A red Explorer with twenty twos.”
DJ: “Oh yea, Rollin in Exploder sittin’ on Dubs!”
DJ: “What is your favorite radio station?”
Caller 2: “97.9 Jams is my favorite radio station.”
DJ: “Yeaaaa! Now push the button and BLOW IIIIIIT UUUUUUUUP!!!”
I definitely heard it that time. It was a car horn honking.
That was it.
They call in and tell him what kind of car they are riding in. He asks them to tell him that this is their favorite radio station, and then he asks them to honk their horn.
I got dumber just listening to it.
It was like that retarded kid that lived across the street that got sheer joy out of honking the horn when his parents put him on their lap while driving. This was before car seats were the “in” thing for overprotective parents and way before the overprotective parents decided that parents that were not overprotective were bad parents and made it into law.
– PS. These same goobers are the reason that a grown adult must wear a helmet while riding a bicycle three miles an hour in the city park. I don’t really think I need a helmet because I am not chasing Lance Armstrong at the speed of light or blazing down a mountain biking trail.
But then again, maybe some of these kids not wearing a helmet is the reason that I have to listen to a round of “Push the button and blow it up” every weekday at 5.
Saturday, July 29, 2006
cramming
Taking a break to grab a little dinner after cramming at the library all day for summer class finals.
Is it really cramming? I dont know.
Cramming as a noun means a hasty study for an imminent examination.
I dont really see how studying the few days before finals is cramming in that sense. Heck, its not hasty. It is definitely not done quickly or in a manner that characterized by any speed at all. Craming just doesn't seem to fit the mode of study at all. Cramming is what you do the night before a history exam in college when you try to remember who did what on what date.
This is slow, methodical, and comes to a culmination a day or two before your final.
Cramming it is NOT. We need a new word.
Is it really cramming? I dont know.
Cramming as a noun means a hasty study for an imminent examination.
I dont really see how studying the few days before finals is cramming in that sense. Heck, its not hasty. It is definitely not done quickly or in a manner that characterized by any speed at all. Craming just doesn't seem to fit the mode of study at all. Cramming is what you do the night before a history exam in college when you try to remember who did what on what date.
This is slow, methodical, and comes to a culmination a day or two before your final.
Cramming it is NOT. We need a new word.
The ABA the curve and...
OK
So here goes. This is my blog. I have finished my first year as a part time student in law school. I have attended summer classes and a few weeks from now I will embark on my second year of law school. This time as a full time student.
So you dont get to hear the first year antics that everyone seems to to find incredibly funny.
But the best is yet to come.
As of this summer. Jones has become accredited by the American Bar Association.
A bit of a discliamer:
Jones received "provisional accreditation". Which means pretty much as long as they dont screw it up, the school recieves "full accreditation" in 2 to 5 years. Which doesn't really bother me. Because as long as the place doesn't burn down between now and when I graduate, (as far as other states are concerned) I will graduate from an accredited law school. Meaning: I can take the bar and practice anywhere in the US that I can pass that state's bar exam.
Here is the problem:
The school is so incredibly obsessed with becoming fully accredited that it has arguably become the hardest law school in the state (dont argue just read it) because they want their bar passage rates really high, and they think that the ABA likes to see folks failing out. We have a 28.8% attrition rate for first year students. When you look at the incoming class as being only about 95 students last year you can see that is a big chunk of students that I will not be seeing this fall.
I have seen other blogs where people complain about the difference between a 3.0 and a 3.2 curve. Big Woop. Incoming 1L's are subjected here to a 2.5 curve. After that it is a 2.75 curve for all classes except summer electives, who are curved once again at 3.0. Which I think kinda sucks because with two identicle students with the same raw score, the one from the lower curved school gets the shaft on overall GPA. I came to law school to study law, not math. But as I see it A + B = Sux.
Summer finals are fast approaching (Monday) and I need to get back to studying.
ps
What I have learned from taking Environmental Law and Health Law this summer:
Never take an Environmental case becasue there is no money in it and if you do find one - the EPA will just take it.
Malpractice law in Alabama has been bought by the insurance companies. No great money there either.
So here goes. This is my blog. I have finished my first year as a part time student in law school. I have attended summer classes and a few weeks from now I will embark on my second year of law school. This time as a full time student.
So you dont get to hear the first year antics that everyone seems to to find incredibly funny.
But the best is yet to come.
As of this summer. Jones has become accredited by the American Bar Association.
A bit of a discliamer:
Jones received "provisional accreditation". Which means pretty much as long as they dont screw it up, the school recieves "full accreditation" in 2 to 5 years. Which doesn't really bother me. Because as long as the place doesn't burn down between now and when I graduate, (as far as other states are concerned) I will graduate from an accredited law school. Meaning: I can take the bar and practice anywhere in the US that I can pass that state's bar exam.
Here is the problem:
The school is so incredibly obsessed with becoming fully accredited that it has arguably become the hardest law school in the state (dont argue just read it) because they want their bar passage rates really high, and they think that the ABA likes to see folks failing out. We have a 28.8% attrition rate for first year students. When you look at the incoming class as being only about 95 students last year you can see that is a big chunk of students that I will not be seeing this fall.
I have seen other blogs where people complain about the difference between a 3.0 and a 3.2 curve. Big Woop. Incoming 1L's are subjected here to a 2.5 curve. After that it is a 2.75 curve for all classes except summer electives, who are curved once again at 3.0. Which I think kinda sucks because with two identicle students with the same raw score, the one from the lower curved school gets the shaft on overall GPA. I came to law school to study law, not math. But as I see it A + B = Sux.
Summer finals are fast approaching (Monday) and I need to get back to studying.
ps
What I have learned from taking Environmental Law and Health Law this summer:
Never take an Environmental case becasue there is no money in it and if you do find one - the EPA will just take it.
Malpractice law in Alabama has been bought by the insurance companies. No great money there either.
Welcome
Welcome to Law of the Gump.
The name comes from Montgomery, AL. Where I am attending law school at the recently ABA accredited Thomas Goode Jones School of Law on Faulkner University. Boy that is a long name. From now on it is Just "Jones" or "Jones Law"
Why Montgomery is called "the Gump" I have no idea. But it is, and that is the way it is.
I will post on here as needed to rant or just tell stories about law school. You might like it.
You might not.
I dont care. It is my blog.
J
ps A little disclaimer
I just ran across a blog called "Gump's Law" from some fine folks in Law School at the great University of Alabama. Roll Tide!
This blog is not affiliated in anyway and the similarity in names is by accident. Their name has something to due with Forest Gump. Mine is strictly because that is Montgomery's un-official nick name.
The name comes from Montgomery, AL. Where I am attending law school at the recently ABA accredited Thomas Goode Jones School of Law on Faulkner University. Boy that is a long name. From now on it is Just "Jones" or "Jones Law"
Why Montgomery is called "the Gump" I have no idea. But it is, and that is the way it is.
I will post on here as needed to rant or just tell stories about law school. You might like it.
You might not.
I dont care. It is my blog.
J
ps A little disclaimer
I just ran across a blog called "Gump's Law" from some fine folks in Law School at the great University of Alabama. Roll Tide!
This blog is not affiliated in anyway and the similarity in names is by accident. Their name has something to due with Forest Gump. Mine is strictly because that is Montgomery's un-official nick name.
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