Saturday, December 31, 2005

Bollywood

A friend of my girlfriend and I's is Indian-American and is still pretty in touch with her roots. She tried to shed some light on Indian culture for us by showing us a "Bollywood" movie. I figured why not, I'm Canadian and I'd enlightened dozens of Americans regarding my heritage with the classic, Strange Brew.

"A lot of this is in English, so it'll be easy to follow along," said the friend as she put it in the movie.

Some dialogue was in English but who could follow it with all the bright colors, dancing, and singing which was definitely not in English? Was the guy in the turquoise turban the hero? Were the two gorgeous raven-haired women the same person? How does the guy dancing with the scimitar not cut himself?

Finally, after half an hour of singing and dancing in Hindi, I broke down and asked the obvious question, "Which one of these guys is supposed to be Danny Zucco?"

Friday, December 30, 2005

Rock The Casbah

Scene: Morroccan Restaurant

Girlfriend: Here comes the bellydancer. Do you have any money to tip her with?

Russ: Actually, I always carry a few emergency singles in case a woman starts taking her clothes off.

Girlfriend: Oh yeah? Then how come I've never gotten a dollar out of you?

Thursday, December 29, 2005

Reading Recommendations

Well, the holidays are over and you've got two more weeks (or so) to goof off until classes start again (unless you goof off during school like 90% of all law students). As a law student, you're most likely a recreational reader. So, Mike and I thought we could make some reading recommendations.

Russ's Recommendations

1) David Sedaris, Naked. The hilarious tales of a obsessive-compulsive homosexual and his dysfunctional family. Don't worry insecure guys. The gayest thing that he actually describes is his misplaced passion for theatre and performance art.

2) John Kennedy O'Toole, A Confederacy of Dunces. A deluded graduate student annoys everyone he encounters. Surprisingly, he didn't go to law school. A hilarious classic all the same.

3) Charles Bukowski, Post Office. A drunk womanizer details his adventures in the career he squeezed in between benders. If you liked the Kroger Chronicles you'll love this.

Mike's Recommendations

1) TV Guide: From A, A-Team, to Z, Zoolander at 3 am on HBO 4, this little book packs in all the entertainment you'll ever need during break, after break, or between breaks. I've read all the books that Russ recommended, and while I enjoyed them all immensely, nothing beats a Christmas break full of meaningless college bowl games, old, crappy moves, and reruns of TV shows from days gone by.

Tuesday, December 27, 2005

Not-So-Tiny Tim

I had Christmas dinner this year at a house with 8 adults and one 5 year old kid, Timmy. All the adults sat down for a quiet WASPy Christmas dinner while the poor kid was still wound up from all the earlier Christmas activity. Needless to say, Timmy did not ascribe to England's national child-behavior philosophy of being "seen and not heard."

Adult: Chomsky's 'Manufacturing Consent' is as true today as it was then...

Timmy: Who wants to play with my Robo-Raptor with me?

Adult: Anyways, a capital gains cut would be good for the economy, but at what cost...

Timmy: Can I have some of the chocolate in your stocking?

Finally, Timmy got into one of the Adult's things (a bag of architecture drafting equipment) and came back into the the dining room with a yard stick between his legs. Timmy pointed the yard stick coming out his crotch at all of us and shouted, "Hey guys! Look at my GIANT PENIS!" (emphasis not added)

The table became completely silent. The shocked parents sat there, mouths agape. Grandparents shot dirty looks, sure that the other side was responsible for such behavior. Everyone else sat quietly, loathe to further embarass anyone. Someone needed to pierce this akward silence.

"Timmy, It's not polite to brag," I said.

Monday, December 26, 2005

Be Cool

A little while back, I was driving with a friend of mine and we passed a cop. "Five-O, be cool," I said. My friend looked at me like I was an idiot, and then she said, "Why did you say that?"

I explained that it is an inside joke I have with myself (the best kind, if you ask me). It all goes back to my junior year of high school....

It was the spring of 1997. I was dressed in overpriced Abercrombie clothing, I drove my black Dodge Neon, and I was fully enjoying my high school experience. (If this were a movie, I would start to play some song that captured the mood of the time, like Semi-Charmed Life by Third Eye Blind).

My school was the typical public high school in an affluent midwest suburb. You know the kind: 95% white, preppy kids make fun of the goths, and there was never anything exciting going on. So whenever something did transpire, students would turn out in high numbers to see what was happening.

Every day, I drove home my sister, a friend of mine, and a friend of hers. One day, the four of us were walking out the the parking lot when we caught wind of a fight that was to occur in the neighborhood next to the high school in twenty minutes. Of course, we decided to attend.

We drove over to the neighborhood, a typical "nice" development that you could find all over our town. The street was lined with student's cars, and it seemed like we were not the only ones who decided to take in the afternoon's entertainment. We parked and walked down to the yard where hundereds of students were milling around, waiting for the combatants to arrive.

Finally, they did, and everyone formed in a circle around them. After the standard posturing and shit-talking, one guy shoved the other guy, and the fight was on. But almost as quickly as it started, our fun ended. Predictably, one of the scared housewives who lived on this street was a little bit startled by the 200-plus teenagers who had descended upon her neighborhood, and called the police.

The patrol car turned down the street where everyone had gathered, and one member of the audience was the first to see it. "Five-O, be cool!" he shouted.

Upon hearing this, the mass of students who had gathered to watch the fight, my party included, suddenly bolted up the street, back to their parked cars. The whole time, I was laughing hyterically.

Three things struck me as funny about the situation: First, who the fuck says "Five-O"? Was the guy who yelled it trying to be hip, or was he a huge dork and a fan of the 70's cop drama Hawaii Five-O? Either way, I found it to be an odd choice of words.

Second, the reaction of the mob, upon hearing this warning cry, was anything but cool. I am not sure what the guy who yelled was expecting, but I think that 200 students rushing up the street and tearing off in their cars does not fit his defintion of "being cool".

And finally, even if we had acted cool, would that have changed the reaction of the policeman? What would he radio back to the station? "Yeah, this is Officer Johnson responding the the report of a disturbance on Timber Ridge Lane. There seems to be a large group of teenagers gathered here, but they all have their hands in their pockets and are looking around innocently. I don't see a need to check this out any further. Everything seems cool."

Saturday, December 24, 2005

My Name Is Santa And I'm an Alcoholic

Scene: Christmas Eve 1984

6 year old Russ: OK. I have a carrot for Santa's reindeer, some cookies for Santa, and a glass of milk.

Russ's Dad: Why don't you drink that milk, yourself. I think Santa would prefer a beer.

6 year old Russ: Really?

Russ's Dad: He's the one giving you the presents. You want to make him happy, don't you?

6 year old Russ: Good idea. Let's get a beer.

Russ's Dad: Get one for me while you're at it.

Scene: Christmas Day 1984

Russ: Wake up, Dad. Santa came and left a lot of presents. He also drank the beer! He also drank a bunch of your beers and left the bottles all empty on the coffee table. Santa must have been thirsty.

Russ's Dad: (groggily) He sure was....he sure was.

Friday, December 23, 2005

A Christmas Post (of sorts)


Ike, recovering nicely

My holiday break took an unexpected turn this week when my beloved dog Ike came down with pnuemonia. Don't worry, he will be fine, but as part of his treatment, I am supposed to put him in the bathroom and run a very hot bath in order to create a lot of steam, which will help to break up the stuff in his lungs and facilitate a quick recovery.

My gas bill last month was through the roof, and I am supposed to do this for Ike at least twice a day. Since his vet bill already set me back a cool grand, I didn't want to run up this month's gas bill even more by running hot water a few times a day. So I came up with a solution, of sorts. Two times yesterday, I took a very hot shower while Ike sat in the bathroom breathing in the steam. This obviously worked, as he did cough up some junk all over my new bathmat. And when I got out of the shower, my skin was bright red from the hot water.

I didn't quite picture my Christmas as being all mistletoe and eggnog and whatnot, but needless to say, I didn't picture it being scalding showers and dog phlegm either.

Wednesday, December 21, 2005

An Appellate Argument Of Sorts

Mike and I have a friend from undergrad who tended to get 'inspired' while drinking. One night, while thoroughly inebriated, he announced that he was going to drive to some girl's house. Everyone told him he was far too wasted to drive and that he would likely get a DUI at the very least.

Our drunk friend stood up and gave this speech with conviction and passion:

Yes, there is a possibility that I will get a DUI. There's always that possability. But, you guys are thinking about this the wrong way. Take the cost of my possible DUI and distribute that cost over every instance I've ever driven drunk or ever will drive drunk and you'll see that the benefit of me driving drunk outweighs the cost in this instance, tonight.

Upon hearing this convoluted reasoning, we all looked at each other, nodded, tackled him, held him down, and took his keys out of his pocket.

And, yes, that drunk guy is now in law school.

And doing very well there, too.

Monday, December 19, 2005

First Day of Winter Break

It's been great. I slept till 11, watched some SportsCenter and played video games after that, went out to lunch, came home and took a little nap, and now I am about to watch a movie.

So yeah, my normal routine hasn't really changed at all.

Saturday, December 17, 2005

More Exam Dress Fun

To the guy who showed up for my 8:30 am, four-hour long evidence exam this morning wearing a suit and tie...I sincerely hope you have a Bar Mitzvah to go to this afternoon.

To the girl who wore a tight sweater and obviously took the time to get up early to do your hair and makeup before the exam...Keep up the good work.

Friday, December 16, 2005

Grandma

Mike is a good grandson. It makes me realize that I haven't done anything nice for my grandma, lately. So, I've decided to make her day and spend $30 getting a membership to MENSA, the elite organization for people who are in the top 2% of the world's IQ distribution or as they humbly call themselves, "geniuses."

Apparently my LSAT score of 163 qualifies me for MENSA membership. If I'm what passes for a genius these days, don't expect any of the world's problems to get solved any time soon.

A membership to MENSA for myself seems like a weird present for a grandmother doesn't it? Maybe I should have stuck to knitting needles or those crystal dishes she likes to put ribbon candy in. But, if you'll look below at what I think will happen you'll realize what a thoughtful grandson I really am.

Scene: A nursing home in Canada

Esther: What's that you've got there?

Russ's Grandma: A card from my grandson...THE GENIUS!

Esther: That reminds me, my son the doctor will be visiting this weekend.

Russ's Grandma: Reminds you? Why is he a genius, too?

Esther: Well, I'm sure he is. He's a doctor!

Russ's Grandma: Well if he was a genius, I'm sure he'd be smart enough to get his genius certified like my Russell did.

Esther: Bah! Every since you got that "World's Greatest Grandma" T-shirt you've been qualifying everything.

Now, don't you all go out getting MENSA memberships this holiday season to please your grandmothers. If you want to make her happy, tell her what she really wants to hear, "I switched to Medical School and am going to marry a person of (insert Grandma's ethnicity) descent."

Thursday, December 15, 2005

I Swear...

...I am going to shoot the next person who sends me a link to that ridiculous evidence movie about hearsay. It is the dumbest thing I have ever seen and I am almost positive that my grade will be lower because I watched it. And yes, I fully realize that this post may be admissible at my trial for that shooting under several rules of evidence, most likely as a "state of mind exception" under 803(3).


Jesus, I feel like a nerd right now.

All These Things That I've Done

I have one exam left to take, coming up this Saturday, in Evidence. Like most other classes I have taken in law school, I am faced with an impending exam and only have a very shaky grasp of the material. But I'm not too worried. Like with all of my other exams, I have a good outline from someone who took it last year, and a few days to learn the material. This combination always seems to land me somewhere above the curve.

Unfortunately, this approach doesn't really leave me with much knowledge about the material once the class is over. It is sort of a bulimic method of exam taking. I binge all the information right before the exam, and then purge it out during the exam. But unlike a bulimic, a little bit of information from each class stays with me. What I remember from particular courses is random and often useless.

This got me to thinking...I see all of the 1Ls so worried about their exams, trying to know every little detail, and I realize that I have retained next to nothing from my 1L year. It is supposedly the hardest year of law school, and what I recall about it is so fuzzy that it seems like a huge waste to me. So without further ado (and to delay my looming binge of the Federal Rules of Evidence), here is what I can recall from my first year courses:

* Torts- I could probably make a prima facie case for negligence, so long as there weren't any tricky issues. (Duty, breach, actual cause, proximate cause, damages)...Also, I remember the case Hackbart vs. Cincinnati Bengals, which I think illustrated the rule that people playing a particular sport assume the risks inherent in the normal context of that sport, but not risks that go beyond that. See, I told you it was random.

* Property- For some reason, property is a huge haze for me. All I remember are a few of those estates with needlessly complicated names, that there is a strong public policy against perpetuities, and that possession is 9/10ths of the law (although I knew that coming in, so I don't know if that counts.)

* Civ Pro- Civ Pro was the bane of my existence. I don't know anything about the actual rules of procedure (except for Rule 56, Summary Judgment, but that is because I worked for a judge and all I did was read SJ motions...and I am not even sure that it is rule 56). For jurisdiction, I remember silly case names like International Shoe, and Pennoyer vs. Neff, but I couldn't begin to tell you what they were about. I also remember phrases such as "minimum contacts" and "long-arm statute" and "in rem", but I couldn't give you a solid explanation of them.

* Con Law- Con Law was from 10:00-10:50, MWF. Our Con Law professor used to show up a few minutes late, take a few more minutes to take attendance, and then keep us until 10:58, despite the fact that we had Civ Pro at 11. Our Civ Pro prof used to come into the room at like 10:54, give him a death stare, which he would ignore until he stopped talking. Also, the 14th Amendment applies the Bill of Rights to the states, or something like that.

* Contracts- Of all the classes I took my first year, I remember the most about contracts. A valid contract includes an offer, acceptance, and consideration. There is stuff about it being a promise for a promise, or a promise for performance, etc. And it must be a "meeting of the minds", or something. Damages are hazy, except that the goal is to put the injured party in a position as if the contract had been performed. And I remember the Shirley McLain case, something about mitigating damages and the work you accept must be substantially similar...God, I am boring myself.

* Legislation- We had to take a silly course about statutory interpretation and what not. It was really boring, and I tuned out most of the time. I don't remember what we talked about, what we covered, what kind of cases we read, or really, where I even sat in the room. All I recall is this little tidbit of trivia that our professor gave to us: Learned Hand is considered by many to be the greatest judicial mind never to sit on the Supreme Court. Him, and Harriet Miers.

Okay, that's it, I need to go start to learn evidence, so that in two years I will be able to tell you that an excited utterance is an exception to the hearsay rule.

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

Dana

In college, I earned my spending money working as a cook at an Italian “restaurant” (It was really just a place where you can get Spaghetti to go). Despite the restaurant being right across from my college, I was the only college student working there. The employer, in his infinite wisdom, preferred to hire people on work-release. Work-release is a program whereby people who would otherwise be finishing a prison sentence are released into a halfway house and work 12 hours a day at crummy jobs like mine. If they screw up at work then it’s back to prison. So, when the employer asks the almost-prisoner to take out the garbage, stay late, or sleep with him, they usually happily comply.

Needless to say, this made for a motley crew of coworkers. I would dread having to train the new hires. It would either be a white supremacist who thought we were best friends until he saw me hanging out with the Black employees or it would be a recovering heroine addict shaking like a leaf and starring into a horizon that wasn’t there. I was never scared, though. These guys were always happy to be working because, as I was told, “The best day on the inside is still worse than the worst day on the outside.”

Then one day, I was assigned to train Dana. Dana, despite having a girl’s name, was a 6’7” 320 lbs man who had spent the previous night in a prison cell. I gingerly showed him how to do his job only to have him bark at me, “I know what I’m doing, man.” I didn’t care what my coworkers thought of me but, for obvious reasons, I wanted to stay on Dana’s good side.

Later that day, my girlfriend-at-the-time (who looked like the girl on the Swiss Miss cocoa packets) drove up to the restaurant in every 19 year old girl’s favorite car, a Pontiac Sunfire. Dana saw me talk with her and then came up to me and said, “Hey man, I like your taste in cars and I like your taste in women, too. You're cool.” After being recognized as a man of good, if pedestrian, taste, I was Dana’s best friend.

Being Dana’s coworker was great! It was like being Mike Tyson’s little brother. I could do or say anything I wanted and Dana would always have my back. For example, the waitresses were always clucking and complaining to us about their orders, ignoring my pleas for patience. Dana, being a man of eloquence, explained it to them by leaning forward, flexing his powerful arms, sticking out his muscled neck, and roaring! Those waitresses were suddenly filled with a new spirit of understanding thanks to Dana’s visible passion for his job.

Dana wasn't always gruff with the ladies. Usually he was a ladies man, always happy to let a new female employee know that “that must be jelly 'cuz jam don’t shake like that.”

Then one day Dana disappeared. I asked what happened to him and the supervisor said, “He’s in the hospital. His old lady took a bat to him when she caught him fooling around.” I felt awful. I had lost my coworker and my friend but most of all I was terrified knowing that there was a woman on the loose out there who could put Dana in the hospital.

Dana, underneath that giant physique and vicious snarl you were a great friend. If you ever need legal advice (and I’m sure you do) I will always be happy to help.

Tuesday, December 13, 2005

What I Say, What I Mean

I just talked to my grandmother on the phone. She is old, and her health isn't great, and when she talkes to her grandchildren, she likes to hear good news. So when I talk to her, I try to stay positive and upbeat, no matter what. Here is how our conversation went.

Grandma: Hello Michael, how is my favorite law student?
Me: Couldn't be better. Just finished my fourth exam this morning, have one more Saturday.
Translation: I could be a lot better. A Saturday exam? Are you kidding me? Ridiculous.

Grandma: Four exams already? My you must have been busy these last few weeks.
Me: Oh yeah, it keeps me really busy.
Translation: I have spent a total of four hours studying since exams started, and that is a liberal estimate. By busy, I mean I have played two full seasons of NCAA Football 2006, watched numerous shows I saved on my Tivo, and spent hours chatting with adoring fans over IM.

Grandma: Did you take any interesting classes?
Me: Oh yeah, they are all interesting in one way or another.
Translation: I have never been more bored with something in my entire life. I would rather spend all my time watching vacation movies of people I have never met than take the classes I had this semester.

Grandma: Well that's wonderful. All A's this term?
Me: Hahaha, we'll have to see.
Translation: Don't hold your breath.

Grandma: I know you can do it. So do you know what you want to do after you graduate? Any prospects?
Me: A few, I have to see about a few things, figure some stuff out.
Transation: I have no idea. All I know is that I am not taking the bar this summer and I do not want to be an attorney. You'd think in this world, that would be a plus, but I guess not.

Grandma: Michael, you are a smart boy, you can do whatever you want.
Me: I know, it'll all work out just fine.
Translation: I know, it'll all work out just fine.

Grandma: I'll let you go now, I am sure you have a lot of work to do.
Me: Yeah, a few things.
Translation: The Simpsons Season 7 DVD just got here...I preordered it two months ago. I want to start watching.

Grandma: Okay, don't let me keep you...If you get a chance, you should come down and shovel your parent's driveway. They are so busy and never got to it.
Me: I'll try and squeeze it in.
Translation: Fat chance.

Grandma: You are such a sweet boy...Bye dear.
Me: Bye.
Translation: Now I feel guilty...But nothing that some chicken wings and Simpsons episodes with writer's commentary can't fix.

Contest Winners

We had a pretty good response to our exam story contest, so much so that it is hard picking just one winner, since exam freak outs are so funny. No one topped the torts guy, but that's okay, I didn't expect anyone to. That being said, quality writing is the key to an entertaining story almost as much as the underlying story is. The winner of the contest, as you'll see in a bit, wrote her story better than anyone else did. With the torts story, I rewrote that to get the full comic effect, but I don't feel like doing that for all these stories. So I'll just give you my very brief synopsis of the six runners up, and then the winner, as it was sent to us.

#6- Worried 1L gunner brings his laptop to read on the toilet.

#5- Two girls left crying after Contracts prof tells class he is not afraid to fail anyone.

#4- Girl attempts to take a seat during exams, 'Seat Nazi' freaks out, saying he has the perfect set up and she will ruin it.

#3- 1L in men's bathroom after exam, vomiting all over self

#2- 3L asks prof for assurance that everything will be okay, mutters "she said it will be okay" over and over after getting assurance.

#1- 1L girl strung out on stimulants soils self during exam, does not leave to clean up, to dismay of fellow test-takers.

And the winner is from a reader named Courtney...

I was at the library circulation desk the other day (getting copy of Examples and Explanations for Agency law), and a particular 3L was there waiting to reserve a study room...I hadn't been there early enough to hear the beginning of the conversation, but the circulation lady told him that he looks like Paul Reiser

He slammed the book closed, looked at her and screamed, "I hate it when people say that. Now I'm going to fail all my exams!", and then he stormed off. The circulation desk lady just sat there stunned for about five minutes before she managed to find the book for me. I heard what she said, and she definitely meant it as a compliment.

I don't know that it beats the torts story but I find it funny for two reasons:

1) what the hell does looking like some famous person have to do with law school finals? and 2) THIS GUY IS A 3L!! Tantrums and storming off are only for 1Ls...

Good work, Courtney. You win a limited-expenses paid trip to come hang out with me for a weekend, where we will eat BW3, drink Miller High Life and have a few romantic "misunderstandings", as we talk and laugh about law school and life.

Monday, December 12, 2005

More IM Encouragement for Sarah

Today, Sarah (http://www.camelnose.blogspot.com/) needed some more words of wisdom...

Sarah: I need another pep talk

barelylegalblog: What exam?

Sarah: Property...

barelylegalblog: Okay Sarah, you are going to walk into that exam and be a little Fonzie...And what is Fonzie like?

Sarah: Cool

barelylegalblog: Exactamundo....You are going to go into that exam and be cool. You are going to nail all those crazy estates. Then, like me, you are going to forget all about them. But for those three hours, you are going to be the Leather Tuscadero of property.

Sarah: Will I get an A?

barelylegalblog: Heyyyyyyy!!!!

Sunday, December 11, 2005

Reassurance From A Reader

At this stage of finals some of you may have some concerns about how you did or how you're going to. Hang in there, guys. A reader sent in her "through the looking glass" moment that I hope will cheer some of you up.

I'm a 2L which means I've stopped worrying about finals. My grades are mediocre on a good day and I've come to relish my mediocraty. It means I'm not a complete maniac that spends all my time studying. My first year, however, I was very freaked out. But luckily, a rather sage 2L gave me the following advice.

2L: "Why are you so stressed out"

me: "Because I need to get good grades"

2L: "Listen, my dad's an attorney and when I was a 1L and got shitty grades he sat me down and said 'son, even shitty attorneys make a lot of money'"

Ever since that pep talk, I've been a new woman.

If anyone else has any encouraging humorous words for this rough last week of finals, forward them to us and we may share.

(Mike's Response: While some shitty attorney's make a lot of money, shitty law students don't. Just remember, Legal Aid will start you off around $35k -- Unless you have your daddy to give you a job and continue the family tradition of being a shitty attorney.)

I'm Beginning To Regret This IM thing

Reader: I have a post idea. How about a comparison between terms for law school (2L) and Dungeons and Dragons (Level 2 wizard)...seems like an area with potential humor.

blblogruss: I'm going to have to politely decline. At least half of our audience is women and the other half is guys like us. Women avoid people who are familiar with dungeons and dragons and guys like us tease them. I'm sure your high school years can attest to both of these points.

Friday, December 09, 2005

Need an encouraging word? IM Mike

Sarah: I am nervous about my exam...give me some encouraging words

Barelylegalblog: Good luck

Sarah: Thanks, how inspiring...come on, you can do better than that.

Barelylegalblog: Sarah, you are a smart, beautiful woman who is going to go in there today, bend that exam over the desk and fuck it in the ass. Then, once you have successfully made that contracts exam your bitch, you will rejoice and drink champagne from the skulls of your enemies.

Sarah: I literally do not know how to respond to that. I am speechless.

Guest Blogger: Norm

"Chocolate chip poundcake? Don't get too comfortable."

-Doug Heffernan on "The King of Queens" while putting away the groceries.


I'm sitting here watching a TV commercial for a mail order catalog called "King Size." It's a fat man catalog. At first glance I thought, 'Wow, this is pretty cool. Maybe I should get this and get some new clothes. Now I know they have big and tall shops, but that would mean actually going shopping. And with a catalog I wouldn't have to get off the couch.'

The commercial continued explaining how they had sizes 1XL through 10XL. That's when the tide turned for me. All I could think about was how ridiculous size 10XL was. What kind of person needs clothes that big? I mean, talk about letting yourself go! My 2XL is practically svelte in comparison. This commercial is trying to lump me together with 10X fat people. How dare they! I'm have the build of a dancer compared to these people who probably have to wash themselves with a rag on a stick!

The moral of the story, you never have to accept your faults as long as you hang out with others who have the same faults; and you can even feel good about yourself if you hang out with people whose faults are worse than yours.

Now where'd I leave that summer sausage?

Thursday, December 08, 2005

Contest #3

As we all know, exams bring out the best (and by best, I mean worst) in people. They do and say crazy things. They freak out. In short, they entertain the rest of us. Send us the best stories of freak-outs or any other exam hijinks to barelylegalblog@gmail.com. I doubt any story will beat this one, but that doesn't mean you can't try. We will post the best story. Of course, you may remain anonymous.

More Studying Tips

1Ls are so funny. They never quite know what to study for, so they gauge their preparedness on the amount of time that other people study. One reader IMed me yesterday, not quite freaking out but not exactly calm, saying that he felt ready for his exam but was worried because he saw other people still studying. I told him not to worry about what other people do, and that if he feels like he did enough, then he is good to go.

The larger point to be taken from this is that worrying about what other people do is a bad idea come exam time. Look at it this way: Just because someone loses 10 pounds eating only cabbage soup doesn't mean that that is the only diet that works. If you made it to law school, you must have some sort of intelligence at some level. Use it. If you feel prepared, then you are. If you feel unprepared, keep studying. But make sure you really feel unprepared, not just unprepared in relation to your classmates. Trust your gut.

So without further ado, here are Barely Legal's real studying tips:

1) Study alone.
2) If your outline sucks, get someone who has a better one to give your theirs.
3) You are better off knowing the basic concepts really well than trying to memorize every bit of minutiae. That can only serve to confuse you.
4) Do old exam problems.
5) Commercial outlines are your friend.
6) Do not, under any circumstances, stay up all night studying when your exam is in the morning. You are better off getting the sleep than going over it one more time.
7) If you are too hopped up on adderall to sleep, balance it out with Tylenol PM.
8) Change your clothes regularly, especially underwear.

If you follow these studying tips, we guarantee that you will do extremely well on the exam. (Note: Not a guarantee)

But if your exams don't work out the way you wanted them to, I'll give you the reassuring advice that Brett From Blafayette's mother gave him right before he had a big job interview: "Just remember, not everyone can be the Chief. Someone has to be the Indian."

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

One Hit Wonders

Not too long ago a friend of mine sent me an excited text message: "ME AND ALLIE ARE AT THE BAR AND STROKE 9 IS HERE!!!!!!!!!!"

My response was: "Who the fuck is Stroke 9?"

She she called me, and in the way that only drunk girls can, starting singing: This is the story of a girl...(unintelligible)....I absolutely love her....WHEN SHE SMILES!!!!!!

Their off-key singing, as bad as it was, refreshed my memory of the song, called Absolutely (Story of a Girl), a pop-rock song that seemed to be a hit back in 2000. Then she went on to tell me that her friend, back during their heyday, had met the band and they sung their hit song to her personally, and that she got autographed CDs and even some drumsticks. Her friend was telling the band all about it, hoping to refresh their memory. "But they don't seem to know what she's talking about", my friend told me.

Astute followers of pop music have likely already recognized the problem... Stroke 9 did not sing that song. That song was done by the band Nine Days. Stroke 9 had a hit around the same time period called 'Little Black Backpack'. Her friend, due to several apple-tinis and the hodgepodge of mediocre "rock" bands in the late 90's/early 2000's, had heard the word "nine" and confused Stroke 9 with the band who once sung their hit to her. I learned all this when I googled Stroke 9.

I thought about telling my friend about their mistake, but I decided to see how it played out. The next day, she called me and I asked how Stroke 9 was. "Good", she replied, sheepishly. "We kept talking to them and Allie started singing their song. They got all offended and told us that that wasn't their song and that we were thinking of the wrong band. Then they left."

Several minutes later, after I stopped laughing, I reassured her. "Those guys are idiots. It probably isn't everyday that two hot girls want to hang out with them in a bar."

"Yeah, you're probably right", she said. "Plus they acted all creepy, like they thought we were going to go blow them in the tour bus, which WAS NOT going to happen....Okay, I have to run, I'm meeting Allie for lunch."

"Have fun", I replied. "Maybe if you're lucky you'll run into Harvey Danger."

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

Under Pressure

This past weekend, a loyal reader relayed this story to me about something that happened during his Torts review session. It immediately struck me as hilarious, but I wasn't sure if I should post it on the blog. I thought it over, and then I realized that this is too funny not to post. If nothing else, it'll help all you 1Ls feel better about yourselves.

We were in our review session for torts and this guy was completely lost. Let me just say now, this guy seemed to have his shit together. He is very much a type-A personality, the kind of guy you would think can handle pressure well. We never would have expected this from him. Anyway, during this review session, he just didn't get intent. For example, he thought that if you accidently hit somebody with your car you are liable because you intended to be driving your car. Like I said, he was lost. He kept asking the professor to clarify, and things began to get a little bit heated between them. They went back and forth for a few minutes, when finally, the guy, out of frustration, said, "Just tell me what you expect me to know for the exam."

The professor looked at him, and flatly said, "I expect you to know the law of torts."

What happened next was one of the most shocking things I have ever seen. The guy heard the professor's response and exploded. "Fuck you, man!", he shouted, and then he burst into tears.

And these weren't small tears. This was loud sobbing. The entire class, 90+ people, sat there in silence as he sobbed. And here is the craziest thing: The guy didn't get up and run out. He sat there weeping for the next ten minutes while the professor continued the review. Needless to say, no one heard anything the professor said for the rest of the period. We all sat there trying not to laugh at the ridiculous and almost unbelievable spectacle before us. After it was over, he wiped his tears away, packed up his stuff and trudged up to the libray like nothing happened.

A couple of thoughts upon hearing this story: First off....torts? Are you serious? We said it before, but torts is the gym class of law school. It doesn't get any easier than torts. Advice for all you 1Ls: If you struggle with torts, just end it now. Go to film school or something. Second... intent? You are stuck on intent? That's like the first day of class. Sticking with the gym class analogy, intent is like the easy activity they give the fat kid with asthma while everyone else runs laps.

As a final thought, I'd like to say that I hope our friend Weepy overcomes his struggles and achieves success in the legal field. Who knows, maybe Rehnquist burst into tears during his torts review session. One thing is certain though: Even if Weepy become Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, those 90 people in his class will remember him only has the guy who started bawling during torts.

Monday, December 05, 2005

Why You Are Asking Me, I'm Not Sure...

A fair number of desperate 1Ls have IMed me and requested advice on preparing for and taking exams. The fact that they are asking me for advice in fact proves their desperation. However, given the sheer number of people who have asked, I'll give it a shot.

The best advice about taking exams that I can give is: Be sure and write down your exam number and bring it with you. The first exam I ever took in law school was property. Like all of you 1Ls, I was understandably nervous. I thoroughly prepared for the exam (by using someone else's outline, of course). I brought two pens to use in case I needed to make notes. I brought a bottle of water and a granola bar. I dressed comfortably. And I arrived early to make sure the exam taking software loaded properly. I was the epitome of a well-prepared and focused law student.

I started the exam software (which, if you aren't aware, shuts down all other programs on the computer and makes them inaccessible). I was all set to take the exam when it prompted me for my exam number. Suddenly a wave of panic came over me as I realized that I had not looked at my exam number since it was emailed to me the week before. I sat frozen for a second, trying to figure out what to do. Finally, I went up to the proctor (who was one of the members of the school's administration) and asked if she had the exam numbers handy. She gave me a look like I had asked her if I could take a dump on her desk. Then I asked if I could go up to the computer lab and check my email, and she gave me a very stern "No". I asked what I should do, since I couldn't remember my exam number. In the typical helpful fashion of law school administrators everywhere, she said, "I don't know, but if you don't put the right one down, you'll fail."

I went back to my seat and contemplated what to do. Most of my classmates had already begun writing, and I still hadn't opened the exam. I began to think of what my exam number was. I tried to picture the email in my head. I could remember that the first two numbers were 77. But the last two numbers kept giving me fits. I was sure that the last two numbers were zero and four, but in what order. Was is 7740? Or 7704? I went back and forth for a few minutes, before finally settling on 7704.

I began taking the exam, fifteen minutes after everyone else did. I did the first essay just fine, before doubt started to creep into my head. "Was it really 7704? Are you sure it wasn't 7740?" I went back and forth all through the second (of five) essays. By the time I had finished the third one I had convinced myself that the number was actually 7740. I thought briefly of trying to change it, but I realized that was impossible. I went ahead and finished the exam, all the while going back and forth as to what my real exam number was. The proctor told us to stop, and I did. I saved my exam to the disk and turned it in. I told her I wasn't sure if I had the right number, and she provided no advice at all as to what I should do. So then rushed up to the computer lab to check and see if I had the right exam number. I opened that email, and, almost afraid to look, saw 7704 staring at me. I was immediately relieved and had learned a valuable lesson.

For the rest of my exams, I showed up with a big fat 7704 written on my hand with a sharpie. The moral of the story is: Law school administrators are assholes who don't have the best interests of the students in mind.

Sunday, December 04, 2005

Recent Exchange

Russ: The Bears won again.

Me: So what? The Bears suck, they just beat teams slightly worse than they are.

Russ: Kind of like you at that crappy law school?

Me: Touche, Russ...Touche.

Saturday, December 03, 2005

Archived Exam Stuff

Last May we posted a fair amount of stuff about exams...we plan on posting new stuff this exam period, but before that, here are the links to all of our old exam posts. Enjoy.

Exam Characters

The Possum... The Braggart...Smugman...The Freak Out...3Lian Gonzalez

Observations

Exam Dress and Follow Up...Last Minute Studying...Tabs

Friday, December 02, 2005

Radio is a Sound Salvation

I was flipping through the radio dial yesterday and came upon a radio station that was kind of hip and funky: Neo Soul and Indie Rock, mostly. Then, at a commercial, the announcer said "This the WKKU, (my large univerisity)'s student-run radio."

I thought to myself, 'That makes sense.'

Then I flipped again and found a good 80s "Monster Rock" station: Poison, Def Leopard, even Mr. Big made an appearance. Then, during the segue to commercial I heard, "Thanks for listening to WKCC, Madison County's Community College Radio Station!"

I thought to myself, 'Hmmm. That also makes sense.'

Thursday, December 01, 2005

Applause

We have received several IMs/emails from 1Ls about the tradition of applauding your professor after the last class period. Then, lo and behold, today, when I was waiting to go into my class, the class of 1Ls before me broke into applause at the end of class. The only time I can recall applauding at my school was at the end of Contracts my first year. As it happened, I sat there in a stunned silence at the absurdity of the situation.

What if someone gave him a bouquet of roses or started throwing panties or hotel room keys at him? What would happen if people started shouting encore? What if he pretended to faint, and a TA came and covered him in a robe, only to have the professor stand up and throw off the robe to an even more thunderous ovation, a la James Brown?

If I was a professor, I would end the semester by throwing down one of those smoke bombs magicians use and then just disappear, leaving only the cryptic message on the blackboard: "My exam office hours are from 3 to 5".

Random Email Rant of the Week

We get lots of emails from readers (barelylegalblog@gmail.com, if you care to be one of them), and lots of times they suggest a post that we should do. Most of the time, the idea is terrible, or it is something we have already done in one form or another. But today we received an email from a young lady suggesting a post about how finals make you feel. What I like is how the email starts off (relatively) normal but quickly descends into a sort of stream-of-consciousness madness that only law school finals can bring about. I am afraid that this reader is now curled up in the fetal position after cutting her own face out of all her family photos.

In preparation of finals... I think your site needs a blog to remind students that they are not alone.. and everyone is fucking miserable right now.....

Something perhaps like.... why finals basically just fucking suck.
Don't forget to mention the fact that you haven't listened all semester.. maybe even haven't opened a book, have procrastinated doing your own outlines.. you said you would do them over Thanksgiving.. yeahhhhhh that didn't happen. It's now 2 weeks to go.. your teachers insist on rambling on at warp speed.. leaving you very lost.. and ready to have your head explode at the end of an hour and 40 minutes going on a 7 hour class..or it feels like seven hours. You just really really really don't want to study. You don't care. It doesn't matter anyway. Your gpa is already in the toilet so what's the point. You go to the winner of the "why my law school sucks contest".. .aka NYLS... and your school sucks anyway.. so even if you do well.. you still aren't getting a job.... every student.. who you already hate... becomes even moreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee annoying...... did you outline.. did you do every single practice exam yet.. for the past 10 years.. oh you didnt? I did!!! Haha... I will beat you!!! Haha...
Damn lunatics....


Umm...in the words of Jerry Seinfeld, good luck with all that.

Wednesday, November 30, 2005

I Made Him An Offer He Couldn't Refuse

I was recently in a settlement hearing my clinic client. It was pretty exciting to actually negotiate over an issue that was worth a few thousand dollars to my client. In retrospect, it was a lot less dramatic than I thought at the time. This is how I wish it went:

Opposing counsel: I'm going to squeeze you, Russ, because I don't like you; I don't like the kind of man you are. I despise your masquerade, and the dishonest way you pose yourself and your fucking client.

Russ: (quietly) We're all part of the same hypocrisy, Counselor. But never think it applies to my client.

Opposing Counsel: All right, then let me say you'll pay me because it's in your interests to pay me. I'll expect your answer, with payment, by tomorrow morning. Only don't contact me...from now on, deal only through Turnbull.

Russ: Counselor...(cold and calm)...you can have my answer now if you'd like. My offer is this. Nothing...not even the twenty thousand dollars for the Gaming Commission, which I'd appreciate if you would put up personally.


In actuality it didn't play out like a scene from Godfather II. It actually went like this:

Russ: We want a reinstatement of the car loan.

Opposing Counsel: Impossible.

Russ: How about giving you the title with no liability.

Opposing Counsel: That works.

Russ: And no 1099 tax liability?

Opposing Counsel: I'll look into that.

Russ: Good.

Opposing Counsel: Good. See you in two months at the next hearing.

Ugh! Even when law is interesting it's still dull by comparison

Recent IM

I just woke up to let my dog out when I found this IM someone left for me:

Anonymous Reader: Hey guys, a few friends and I dig your blog (some of those friends are chicks) but your slacking is suspect at best. Why are you up so early posting in your blog? We think you get up early to read before class.

I'm not sure why, but this really offended me when my slacking was called into question. You can call me many things, but you will not call me one of those people who puts any effort into law school. It is laughable. Only law students would pay attention to such things as the time that we make our posts. If it really matters, our time clock thing is set to Pacific time, despite the fact that we live in the east. I could change it, I guess, but I'm just that lazy. How's that for slacking, retard?

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

This is the last week of classes at my school, which means that my favorite part of the law school experience is fast approaching: Exams.

I love exam time for a number of reasons. First, as you know, I am forced to attend classes, so exams bring an end to my daily required presence and affords me much more free time to spend as I please (which this year will include playing NCAA Football 2006 on my PS2, watching the new Seinfeld DVDs, and emptying out my Tivo).

Second, being the fan of observing human behavior that I am, exams bring out the best and worst and funniest of people. Today, I saw a few 1Ls who had the thousand-yard stare, always a precursor to a freak out. Also today, a classmate and I overheard another 3L talking in detail about his 18-hour per day study schedule. We had a laugh at his expense and concluded that if you are a 3L and still need to study for 18 hours a day, you are in big, big trouble (or just a dork).

Third, in an effort to avoid actually doing work, I tend to clean my apartment with great detail. While others may be memorizing rules of evidence or jurisdictional splits in domestic relations law, I will be scrubbing my bathtub and cleaning out the little egg holders in my fridge. I may not learn those rules or splits as well as the other students, but everytime I go into my bathroom, it will be sparkling, and everytime I open my fridge, my eggs will be nice and clean.

Okay, at this point I realize that most of you reading this may hate me now because you are slaving over outlines or stuggling with key concepts or are stressed out to the max. But remember this: Exam time (read: adderall) also brings out my creative side. So I will be able to post numerous stories and observations to hopefully brighten your otherwise boring and stress-filled days. That's my promise to you, the reader. And if you still hate me for my devil-may-care approach to exams, remember this: Don't hate the player, hate the game.

Monday, November 28, 2005

Response From the Worst Law School Around

Earlier today I posted the winner of the "Why My Law School Sucks" contest. Apparently, this caused a bit of an uproar at that school, and someone from the school wrote us about the contest winner. To be fair to everyone, I am posting the school's response:

A response from the "anonymous law school":We here at the lowest ranked law school in the borough felt that it was necessary to respond to the accusation made by a student, that we are the "worst" law school around.To answer the first gripe made by the ungrateful student, we are proud that our school is the most expensive around. Additionally, the student was actually incorrect in stating that this is a $39,000/yr education. This student forgot to include the astronomical cost of books in our (damp basement) bookstore, not to mention the extreme cost of living in this city.

Although it is true that we have consistently allowed more students to enter each year than we actually have room for, we haven't heard that many complaints about the folding chairs in classrooms. Students seem to enjoy sitting in the aisles, or on laps. It gives them a sense of closeness that many schools dont have. Additionally, we feel that argumentation skills are an important part of the JD program, and therefore a few brawls here and there (in class, in the library) are actually beneficial and key to developing skills that lawyers need.

Additionally, regarding the exam proctors: The school has gone out and recruited the finest proctors that no money can buy. Not only are these men and women untrained in the field, they are also hard of hearing and flatulent. We feel that this is a winning combination and we strive to keep our standards continuously low.

In regard to the "short-bus" as the students lovingly refer to the remedial classes - We realize that this is the best way to keep students in school that might otherwise fail out. That would be another $20K loss for the school... Not something we care to think about, and we feel that we are justified in keeping them around.

Finally, although the student didn't mention it in his/her letter, we feel that the library is an important subject to address. There seems to be growing concern over the fact that we have sold our library. It's true - we sold the school's only library in August (we managed not to tell the students until just last week - sneaky, sneaky). We knew they wouldn't notice as we packed up each and every single book over the past 4 months. And even if they noticed, to be honest, it's not as if anyone even uses these books. Anway, the building has been sold, and we've considered renting out The Intrepid, allowing students to study on the deck... We will keep you in the loop re: these developments.

We thank you for taking the time to read this letter. (It is more than we would do for you, or for our students.)

Best Wishes for a Cheery Holiday Season!

Sunshine State

I just got back from Florida after spending Thanksgiving with my girlfriend's Jewish grandparents at their Del Boca Vista-esque complex. Then we spent a few days in America's gay mecca, Miami's South Beach.

Apparently, 5,132,321 Floridians voted for George Bush in the last election. It's safe to say that I didn't meet any of them.

Contest Winner

We received a lot of submissions for the "Why my law school sucks the most" contest, but the following one takes the cake. The writer wished to remain anonymous, but it's pretty easy to figure out what school they are talking about.

-We pay more tuition for a worse reputation. ($39,000/year for a 3/4 tier school).
-The building sucks something awful...The library books are being boxed up because the school is about to redo the whole building.
-The name of the school sounds like the name of one of the top 10 schools. Everytime I tell someone where I go, they act all happy and say, "Oh, that highly ranked law school just below Stanford, right?" and I have to meekly say, "No, that's another school. I go to the one that no one's ever heard of."
-The electrical outlets in classrooms and the library all suck. I'd say only about half of the outlets work, and people get very possessive over them. so much so that they unplug other people's computers without saying anything.
-The exam proctors all have a giant stick up their asses. They are the same for every exam: an old guy with a hearing aid and a fat guy who demands silence 30 minutes before the exam begins.
-There are remedial classes that the bottom third of the class is forced to take after the first semester.
-They'll keep you on for an extra semester if you are in the bottom 10% of the class.
-There are only three elevators that go past the fifth floor so that people wait in a line to get upstairs.
-The school is composed of three attached buildings that only connect on the first and fifth floors.
-There aren't enough seats in the big classes.


I'm still laughing about the "special ed" classes you have to take if you are ranked low. That shit's hilarious. Do they have to wear helmets too?

Friday, November 25, 2005

More Norm

Norm is the consummate fat man. He is truly comfortable with his size, weather he's wearing a barbeque sauce stained t-shirt or if he's dressed up for the night in a lobster bib. In fact, Russ and Norm once went to a Halloween party dressed as Gilligan and the Skipper.

Of course, not every moment is jolly for the husky blonde gentleman. The day after Chris Farley's death a little girl he didn't know pointed at him and screamed in horror, "Chris Farley! Chris Farley! Chris Farley!" Norm quickly got over that shocking moment and returned to his normally ebullient self.

Norm relishes in his role as "the fat guy." Always being charming and self-deprecating in such a way that seems to flick that "He's a big teddy bear" switch in women. In fact, he often says he doesn't like it when another fat guy is in the group, and he often wishes he could just walk up to fat guy # 2 and say, "Hey man, I've got this one covered."

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

Norm and his Harajuku Girls

Our good friend Norm is getting married in January and I recently hosted a bachelor party for him. Norm is a fantastic guy who bears a striking resemblance in looks, girth, and personality to comedian, Kevin James. And it's just a little comical that this large blonde man is marrying a very sweet, very small woman of Japanese descent.

Anyways, I was talking with two women who were of Asian descent about restaurants to eat at for his bachelor party. They said, "Who's getting married?"

I said, "My good buddy. He looks and acts just like Kevin James from the King of Queens"

They were both like, "Oh my God. I love Kevin James!"

"Oooh, Isn't Kevin James married to a little Filipina woman?" said the first Asian woman

"I love him in Hitch," Said the second Asian woman. She then started to do the Q-tip dance from the movie.

I immediately told Norm this story and how taken it seemed that all Asian women were with him.

Norm seemed nonplussed, "What can I say? It's a sumo culture."

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Sophistication


This weekend, Mike and I joined some friends of ours at a BYOB restaurant. For those of you who aren't familiar with the concept, BYOB is a policy that some restaurants have that allows the customer to bring their own booze.

90% of the BYOB population usually brings a bottle of wine. Not Mike, though. As soon as Mike was seated, he lovingly fished a 40 oz bottle of Miller High Life out of a brown paper bag and proceeded to pour a few ounces into a wine glass. He spun the glass in his hand to air out the beer and then gave it a deep sniff.

"Ah, carefully aged from a little vineyard I know of in Milwaukee," Mike said before he took the first sip of his Chateau High Life.

After some odd stares from other patrons of the restaurant, Mike exclaimed, "What? It says right here on the label, 'The Champagne of Beers.'"

Monday, November 21, 2005

Contest #2

Think your law school sucks? Tell us why. The reasons could range anywhere from ridiculous adminstrative policies to some retarded graduation requirements or any other reason that you think your law school is worse than all the rest. Send your stories to barelylegalblog@gmail.com. Of course, you (and your school) can stay anonymous if you wish.

The Many Angry, Ugly Faces of Dingus

When you're a horrible drunk and even worse human being there are a lot of inevitabilities: Bar fights, destroyed relationships, and jail time. But if you're a 95 pound 20 year old, no one will go to the bar with you, no girl will date you, and the police will let you off with a juvenile's warning.

This was the fate of Dingus, the fraternity brother everybody loved to hate.

I know what a lot of you are already thinking, "Why would you even hang out with someone you hated." Well, first of all he's a fraternity brother, he's basically legally entitled to attend all the fraternities' events. Secondly, Lots of people did just ignore him. He once confronted me in an angry, drunken rage and said, "I know you and Mike are always making fun of me." to which I gave the brutally honest and ego crashing answer, "Dingus, who else even talks to you." Third, there is something in the male psyche that begs oneself to watch impending tragedy, whether a bug under a magnifying glass or angry weakling with a fifth of Captain Morgan in him.

Luckily for us, Dingus never did fail to provide several humorous outbursts. These are his stories (hopefully they can translate to the written word unlike 99% of fraternity "you had to be there" stories):

# 1: Picking on Patty

Pat, probably the most docile and nicest fraternity brother decided one day to drop the Mr. Nice Guy act and actually pick on Dingus for a change. Dingus, apparently, didn't care how insulted he was but rather who insulted him. Dingus let out one of his gravely, Beavis-esque, "Fuck You's" and hurled a beer at Patty's head. No real damage was done, due to Dingus' scrawniness, despite contact being made. Mike and I then begged Pat to give Dingus a justified beating. Pat, like everyone else Dingus has ever bothered, found it too pathetic to try to fight a 90 lbs man.

# 2: Fighting for the Bottom of the Totem Pole.

I wish Dingus was our fraternity's only scrawny loser but I'm afraid he wasn't. Dingus had his rival for the bottom of the totem pole in CJ, a scrawny little bullshit artist who decided it would be funny to kick Dingus in the balls at the beginning of a party. Dingus was still sober then so he didn't do anything about the attack except complain about it. All through the night, Dingus nursed his balls and his beer telling everyone, "That fuckin' CJ kicked me in the balls." By the end of the night, six hours after the original incident, Dingus ran out of people to complain to and walked up to CJ and punched him in the face without a word. Everyone shook their heads in disappointment at these two straw men and suggested that Dingus go to bed.

# 3: I Keep My Friends Close, But My Enemies Closer.

Nobody could stand Dingus or CJ so, naturally, they had to move in together. CJ had actually managed to get himself a cute girlfriend which really took the edge of the angry, drunk, Beavis voice CJ had to listen to every day. At a kegger one night, I "tricked" CJ's girlfriend into taking off her top in front of me and 10 other guys. Word of this event spread room to room throughout the 6 bedroom off-campus house. Finally we heard the news reach the room next to us: a gravely Beavis-esque howl cried out, "This is fuckin' bullshit! Everyone gets to see them but the roommate!"

Ah, Dingus. You were actually a nice guy when you were sober and we always treated you that way when you were sober. I heard you're now a CPA in Kansas City. I hope you're in a program or something.

Friday, November 18, 2005

Doncha Wish Your Girlfriend Was Hot Like Me

I've posted before about how I have a poor opinion of strippers. I just don't get strip clubs, they're basically just a bar with better scenery and higher prices. When I'm in a bar, I prefer talking a girl into getting naked over at my place rather than giving her a dollar bill to see her naked immediately.

My disdain for strippers has gotten me into trouble, though. A few years ago I was at a strip club when some girl took the stage who I thought was really beautiful.

Russ: Wow! You are really gorgeous. You kind of look like my ex-girlfriend.

Stripper: Hmmm. Ya, you're pretty cute, yourself. I could see you dating a girl like me.

Russ: Hey. Don't get too high on yourself.

Stripper: Take your own advice, asshole! (gives me the finger)

Thursday, November 17, 2005

End of an Era

It had to happen some time. At long last, my Cal Ripken-esque streak has ended. In retrospect, I can't believe it lasted this long. The last time it happened was Contracts, November of my first year. Sure, there were some near misses...My streak almost ended less than a year after it started, in Con Law II, but I was absent that day. A constant seat in the back row, a spotty attendance record and some good old fashioned luck played a big part too. But today, it, like all good things, came to an end.

I am talking, of course, about my long streak of not being asked to explain a case in class.

Sure, I have been called on a few times during the streak, to give a one word answer or asked for my thoughts on a topic, and I can always fake my way through that. And yes, earlier this year I volunteered to explain a case (which I hadn't actually read, by the way) in a class when the professor said that anyone who volunteered would be immune for the rest of the semester. But for what amounts to two full years of law school, I was never put on the spot to explain a case that was assigned for the benefit of the class. Until today.

I was in Evidence, one of the few 3Ls in that class who neglected to take it last year. I sit in the way, way back row with some fellow 3Ls, who were all absent. I was slouched way down in my chair, with my Rules book open, but I wasn't paying attention because I was looking out the window. The professor instructed us to open our case books to the assigned reading, which I hadn't bothered doing. Then, walking the aisle, she pointed at me and asked me to explain the case to the class. I opened my book to the case and looked at it for a second. The professor asked a question about the case...I hesitated, and then said, "I'm not sure". The professor asked why not, and I responded "Well, because I haven't read it." Slightly peeved but sensing my 3L apathy, the professor asked a perky and well-prepared 2L who was sitting in front of me. I closed my case book and went back to staring out the window.

Tommorrow I am going to show up unprepared again and ready to start another streak.

Slackers Unite!

For my clinic, one of my client's is a woman whose car was repossessed, ostensibly, because her payment was 2 days late.

I relish the fact that I am essentially part of a "Slackers' Defense League." When will my people ever find peace?

More Law Nerd Stuff

I just posted about my intellectial laziness, and it reminded me of a conversation I was having with a reader the other day. She brought up a Federal judge, and I had to confess that I had no idea who it was. It's not that I wouldn't be unable to discuss the Federal judiciary if I wanted to; I could. But the thing is, I just don't care. I'm sorry. I just don't. Maybe I could name all the member of the Supreme Court...let's see, there is Scalia, Thomas, Ginsberg, Kennedy...umm...Souter (sp?)...Brennen or Brenner or something...um...Rehnquist is dead...the new guy, Mumbly Joe or whatever his name is...and O'Connor is gone...Oh well, I tried.

But anyway, I just had a great idea. I am going to make Federal Judge trading cards. This way all the law nerds can bring their love of law home with them. Can't you just see two law review EICs tearing open a pack of Federal Judiciary cards?

EIC #1: Awesome! I got a Danny Boggs, Chief Judge in the 6th Circuit. (Flips over card). Whoa, 22 dissenting opinions in 1998.

EIC #2: Who cares? I got a Rehnquist memorial card with a piece of his robe embedded in the card! This thing has got to be worth a ton!

EIC #1: Ooh, let me see!

EIC #2: No way, get your own!

EIC #1: I'm telling the law review advisor on you!

Another Way To Be Lazy

My rant yesterday about asking guest speakers questions brought on a few dissenting IMs, one which struck me more than others. The reader said "you should try and learn a lot from guest speakers because they are probably experts in their field". I told this (cough...dork...cough) reader that if I am not interested in the field to begin with, then I am not going to care what some expert says. "Then maybe you are just intellectually lazy", the reader told me.

This stung a bit (although I'm not sure why), so I asked Russ.

Me: Russ, do you find most guest speakers to be pretty boring?
Russ: Yeah, unless it's a topic I am really into, which rarely happens.
Me: But if it's not...who are these people who get so into it and ask poignant and incisive questions?
Russ: I don't know....nerds?
Me: Well that's a given...but if we don't care, does that make us intellectually lazy?
Russ: Probably.

Okay, so it's confirmed, I am intellectually lazy. Add that to the list of physically lazy and emotionally lazy. Up next: Mike tackles metaphysical laziness.

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Random Rant #4

Do you know what bugs me more than anything else? The people who have no "wrapping it up" anticipation and ask questions to a professor or guest speaker just as that person is about to stop talking and possibly let you go early. (Note: This applies mostly towards classes which meet once a week and extra-curricular speakers. No matter what, I am not there voluntarily).

Being an observer of people, I have a very acute sense of when somebody has had their fill of stroking their ego by talking to a room full of bored listeners. Or maybe everyone has this sense and I am just stroking my own ego. But either way, it is easy to tell. Their ramblings become more conclusory, their words tend to trail off a bit, they seem to ease up because they know they are done. And then you hear, "Any questions?"

This is the most tense time of the speech. I look around nervously, trying to determine if anyone in the room is going to raise their hand. Hold for one second...nobody...Hold for another second...nobody...Hold for a third second...Oh my god, we might get out of here now...yessss, this is finally over...and....SON OF A BITCH...a hand shoots up. Great, now we are stuck here for an undetermined period of time.

Apparently these people never got the memo that says that you don't ask people questions when the end of their speech means the end of confinement. This should be part of the common trust held between all students. We are in this together. Don't be that guy (or girl). Fight that urge to hear your own voice. We will all appreciate it greatly.

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

A Professor Actually Said This To Me.

Professor: Russell, you'd better get familiar with the law and the facts of this case. Your charm will only carry you so far.

My thoughts: Maybe that's only as far as I want to go.

Translation of my thoughts: Maybe I only want to be a personal injury attorney.

Lousy Karma...

Ike, enjoying a snooze after making me look foolish


Earlier today, I made fun of some guy who I saw slip and fall in the mud. Well, sometimes karma is a bitch. Just a little bit ago, I took my English Bulldog Ike out to do his business. I was wearing flip-flops, shorts, and a sweatshirt. Ike did his thing, and I bent over to clean it up. I had his leash wrapped around my hand. Just as I was standing up, he took off after a squirrel. Not expecting this little tank to go into full gear, and having no traction with my flip-flops, my feet slipped out from under me and I did a giant ass plant on the saturated ground. Ike then turned around, came up to me, and licked me on the face.

But, unlike my friend from earlier, I came inside and changed my clothes. And nobody saw me. So I stick by my decision to make fun of him. Try again, Cosmos.

Bad Day

My school's parking lot is across the street from the building, and is separated from the street by a small grassy hill. Instead of walking around to the sidewalk, most people cut over this hill on their way to and from the parking lot.

It rained hard last night and was still drizzling this morning. The ground was quite wet and the path worn by people walking on the hill was muddy. I walked around today, not wanting to risk getting muddy. However, not everybody saw the risks that I did. One poor chump, in a hurry, decided to brave the muddy little hill in his dress pants and oxfords. As he started to make the descent, his feet gave out and he did a huge ass plant right in the wet grass. He quickly stood up, surveyed the damage (a huge wet muddy spot on his ass and lower back), and shockingly, continued on into school.

Now, I know that law school is the end all be all of some people's existence, but Jesus Christ pal, if there was ever a good reason to go home and just call it a day, you had it.

How Rude!

This weekend I was out of town and needed to check my email so I went to an internet cafe. I sat down at a computer and found a minimized window. I opened it up only to have my senses rattled by some very graphic bestiality. I closed it out quickly, afraid that anyone else had seen me open up some other person's pornography.

A few seconds later, some guy comes up behind me and says, "Um, excuse me. I was sitting there."

Monday, November 14, 2005

Once Bitten, Twice Shy

Faithful readers will remember Brent, the unlovable loser who recieved a bid to my fraternity as a favor to his parents. In that story, I left out a few details that better describe the character: First, although his name was Brent, he was universally known as 'Dingus'. Second, he was rail thin and did not handle his alcohol well. And third, he had a very distinctive voice that sounded remarkably similar to Beavis. In fact, I had totally forgotten the story I am about to tell until I recently saw Beavis and Butthead on Comedy Central and hearing the voice caused me to have a Proust-ian moment when all these memories about him came flooding back.

From time to time the fraternity would have date parties where the members would invite a date and everyone would go to some event and have a good old drunken time. One time, our freshman year, we had such a date party at an off-campus house, and Dingus invited a girl from his dorm. This girl, on first glance, appeared to be very smart and politely declined to accompany this idiot to the date party, telling him she was going to be out of town. So Dingus, as he would many times, showed up by himself, already drunk and angry, grabbed a beer and planted himself on the couch to sulk alone.

About a half-hour later, the once seemingly smart girl who had rejected Dingus's advances walked into the place on the arm of another guy in the house. Suddenly she no longer looked smart, but really really stupid. Since Dingus and trainwrecks went hand in hand, I made sure to stay close by, to see how this all played out. The girl walked into the house and her date went to get them drinks. She stood around, surveying the room, when suddenly her eyes stopped and a look of horror came across her face. She locked eyes with Dingus, realized the situation she had put herself in, and hurried into the other room to find her date.

I watched this whole scene play out, and went over to Dingus. Always the instigator, I said, "Are you going to let her dis you like that man? You have got to confront her." He seemed to mull it over for a bit and finally said he would, if I got him another beer. I did him one better, went and filled up a whole pitcher and set it on the table in front of him. He appreciated the gesture and proceeded to drink the whole thing, building up his courage to confront the woman who had done him wrong.

For a long time, the girl and her date stayed away from Dingus, while he got drunker and drunker. Finally, towards the end of the party, she and her date came into the same room as Dingus. I grabbed my friend Pat, who had been watching just as intently as me, went over to a now very inebriated Dingus and told him it was now or never. He agreed, and yelled "Hey, Carrie". She turned his way, and as he tried (unsuccessfully) to stand up from the couch, shouted, in his gravelly Beavis-esque voice, "You shouldn't lie to people!" Pat, I, and about a dozen other people died of laughter.

After regaining composure, Pat and I looked at eachother, and I said, "You know, he's right. You really shouldn't lie to people." Pat agreed, and we actually felt sorry for him.

Fast forward two years, and another date party. Dingus asked a girl who hung around the house a lot, and she declined, saying she was busy with school stuff. Predictably, she walked into the party with another guy, made eye contact with Dingus, and immediately turned the other way. I saw this scene play out as well, and went up to him. "You shouldn't lie to people, right?", I said to him.

"Fuck her", he responded in his cartoonish voice. "Bitches ain't shit but tricks and hoes".

"You said it brother", I responded, as I bought him a sympathy beer.

Saturday, November 12, 2005

Back to the Basics

Earlier today I went to the Buffalo Wild Wings (aka BW3) on campus to continue my weekly tradition of gorging myself on Saturday afternoons. I was starving, and as I tend to do when I am hungry, my eyes were bigger than my stomach. I waited in line, got up to the counter, and ordered 16 boneless wings and some potato wedges. The cashier tried to enter my order, but she became confused, and said, finally, "Um, I'm sorry sir, our boneless wings only come in orders of 8 and 12". Since I eat there at least once a week, I was fully aware of this. I looked at her for a second, hoping she would figure it out. When I realized she wouldn't, I said, very softly so as not to embarrass her, "Eight plus eight is sixteen."

Who was this cashier who was a bit slow on the uptake? A high school dropout? A prisoner on work release? Nope, an undergraduate student at my esteemed university.

(But to be fair, her math skills are at least on par with the average law student.)

Friday, November 11, 2005

Pretty in Pink

Yesterday, I went to Walgreens to print out some photos of some friends of mine and I at a party that I had taken with my digital camera. When the photos came out of the machine, the color was all messed up. All of our faces were bright pink in the photo.

'This is garbage!,' I thought, 'I just paid 7 bucks for all these photos.' I stomped over to the clerk looking at the ridiculous photo in frustration.

"Um, excuse me, your photo machine is getting the color wrong because we do not have pink faces," I said, still starring and pointing at the photo.

Then I looked up at the clerk from the photos...She had a giant pink birthmark covering her entire face.

Thursday, November 10, 2005

You Can't Please Everyone. So, You Got To Please Yourself

Someone linked to us and said "Everything on that blog is trite and pedestrian." We don't want to link back to that comment but we did discuss it amongst ourselves.

Russ: I think it's a compliment. What he doesn't know is that women love "trite and pedestrian."

Mike: To paraphrase Ferris Bueller....Sure it might be trite and pedestrian...but so is law school.

Russ: People who dislike us are like that principal in Ferris Bueller's Day Off. If my People magazine is correct, the actor who played the principal was found guilty of child pornography. Coincidence?

Mike: Not at all. Conclusion: If you don't like us, you are a pedophile.

Townhall Tirade

My State and Local Government class requires that we log in a few hours at a local city council, county board, state legislature meeting. So, being near the end of the semester, everyone is scrambling to do it now. Classmates are sending out mass emails alerting us to the extremely boring opportunities of watch a zoning commission or wetland reclamation meeting.

Being a joker I sent out my own mass email.

Anyone want to join me? I'll be going to a city council meeting in a small town called Beaumont outside of (city I live in). They don't allow dancing in that town yet a senior transfer student is petitioning to allow a prom. I've been his lobbyist. I've advised him to quote Psalm 95 and, failing that, to kick off his sunday shoes.

And, yes, someone did think this was real.

I Love This Reader

Yesterday, I was having an IM conversation with a regular reader who attends a very prestigious law school. She told me the following story:

"So I was sitting in the student lounge, and the 2L chick is talking to her friend, this 1L guy. She turns to me and asks, 'have you ever invited a professor out to coffee?' I turned to the guy and said, 'you are such a tool.' I had seen him and a few other 1Ls having coffee with [famous law professor] in the dining hall, and I put two and two together. He says, 'why?' Then the following exchange took place:

Me: Look, you are going to learn this sooner or later, and I suggest you learn it sooner: The professors here don't give a shit about you or your ideas, and honestly, you shouldn't give a shit about their ideas because it's just a bunch of recycled drivel. Law professors are just philosophy professors who couldn't cut it at philosophy. They don't even know your name, and they aren't going to learn it.

Him: But I care what [famous law professor] has to say.

Me: Why?

Him: Because it's interesting.

Me: No it isn't. It's the same shit that is in all his books. Tragic Choices my ass. The only tragic choice I made was going to law school.

Him: [look of disbelief]

Me: Let me ask you something: Do you ask questions in class?

Him: Yes.

Me: Don't do that, because all it will do is make all the other law students hate you. There is nothing you could possibly say that could impress your professors because THEY AREN'T LISTENING! Do you get that? They don't care what some scrub like you has to say. They only care what they have to say. Trust me, all the other students in the class will come to hate you if you act like such a tool. And by the way, you aren't going to get a clerkship because you asked [famous law professor] out to coffee.

Him: [stomps off]

If I could award this reader some sort of medal, I would. We need more people like her in law school.

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

Comments....

Despite the fact that I have explained it on several occasions, people still ask us why we don't allow comments on our blog. Back in July, I wanted to get rid of them completely but Russ wanted to keep them. I sent Russ the following email, which convinced him to eliminate comments once and for all:

Russ,

Comments on a blog are sort of like a laugh track on a tv show. It makes the audience think they are part of the show. Pretty soon, people start using the comments like a message board, to say anything that somes to mind, no matter how boring, unnecessary, or how much they miss the point. You said you like getting the feedback; I don't, because I don't care what they think, nor do I want to know what they think. You said something to me once that sort of sums up my feelings towards our blog: "I'm like a guy with a three inch dick at an orgy. I'm only here to please myself." Russ, you were eloquent as always.

Mike

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

Hankerin' for a Spankerin'

Not surprisingly, my distaste of authority for it's own sake did not start on my first day of law school. Whether it was gym clothes regulations in high school or bathroom pass policies in elementary school, I have always tried to "beat the system."

In fact, my hijinks go back even further. When I was four, my mother got me one those stupid leashes people put on kids so they can't run away. Every time she put it on me I would get on all fours, bark, and say, "I'm a puppy. I don't use a bathroom," much to her consternation.

I didn't understand that the living room wall wasn't my crayola fresco or that "poop" wasn't a word that should be shouted at church, during a sermon. What I did understand is that sometimes, when I was being true to my inner spirit, my mother would go into a rage and spank me. What made it worse is that she would say something clever before spanking me like, "I'm going to play a tune on your rear."

Now having a child who is a smart ass still means that he is smart. So, I devised a plan for the next time she wanted to spank me. It was so brilliant that I couldn't wait to get into trouble! I promptly began to flush things down the toilet.

When I heard the shrill scream, "Russellllll!" I knew my mother had found a toilet full of GI Joes and I began to run to the kitchen and put my anti-spanking plan into action. I opened one of the bottom kitchen cupboards, grabbed a pot lid and shoved it down my pants. She could spank away for all I cared, Corningwear had me covered.

She stormed into the kitchen to find me standing defiantly in a superman pose (legs spread, elbows at 90 degree angles, fists planted in my sides). This valkerie in a print dress rushed at me, quipping "You are cruising for a bruising." I braced myself as she wound her arm out to hit me. When her palm hit my bottom I felt nothing. Success! Ha ha, I was the smartest kid in the world!

Then, I noticed that she was holding her hand in pain and now she looked way more angry than she did before and possibly angrier than I'd ever seen her. I was cornered in the kitchen with no escape. Uh oh! I hadn't thought this far. No amount of smug cuteness could've saved me from the spanking that followed.

As she walloped me I screamed, "I'll be good from now on. I promise," until she stopped.

What a sucker! I melted some crayons in the microwave later that day.

Monday, November 07, 2005

Facebook

Are you a facebook whore? Would you like to have Russ and Mike as your facebook friends? If so, you are in luck. Either send us an email to barelylegalblog@gmail.com, or IM me at AIM: barelylegalblog. Be sure to include your first and last name and where you go to school, and soon enough, you'll have a new facebook friend, and you'll be the envy of all your friends!

***Clarification: If you are a dude, don't ask for a facebook add. I guess I thought that it was implied that we only wanted female readers to add, but I guess I should have been clearer. Guys, if you enjoy reading, that is great and we really appreciate your readership but there's just something creepy about some guy sending us an email titled, "Hey man, I love you guys." We really enjoy getting female adulation, however.

More Reader Email...

One reader sent us this email making a funny little jab at out 'Best Of' post...

A best of, critics will say that you've lost your creative edge and your fans will reminisce about the early days of your blog. You must revive your blog with either a heavy handed product placement or an awkward and pointless guest appearance.

And my response...

I disagree. We did the commercial stuff early, just to get a fan base and make some cash. Now that we are established, we are taking our blog in strange new directions. The Best Of is just to fund our next huge project, called Barely Legal's Lonely Hearts Club Band. It might alienate some of our older fans accustomed to our regular stuff, but I feel that it will revolutionize blogs as we know them. Unfortunately, Russ just began dating a Japanese conceptual artist and she is driving us apart. So you never know what will happen next.

Sunday, November 06, 2005

Email from a reader...

...about my rant on attendance policies.

dude, chill about the attendance policy...... it seems to me that there are more important things to bitch about in law school besides a petty, nearly meaningless attendance policy.... just suck it up and go to class

my law school has a policy, and it is nearly universally accepted, rarely complained about, by the student body....

the student handbook, to go with a bit of legal lingo here, should (perhaps does, in a sense) revolve around the 'reasonable law student' idea..... ideally, every student should to nearly every class, except when sick or due to an emergency situation.... slackers (cough, cough) shouldn't dictate school policy for everyone......


A ridiculous email requires a ridiculous response:

Dude, shut the fuck up. I'll complain about whatever I want to. And I cannot think of anything more important to complain about than the attendance policy. It's my dime, I should be able to spend it as I want. Lots of schools have no policy whatsoever and they do just fine.

The problem with lots of lawyers and law students is that they are just conformists who don't question what authority tells them. I really hate people like that, which is why I don't fit in at law school. Who gives a fuck if I show up for class? If they are going to base the entire grade on my performance on one exam, then who cares what I do leading up to that exam? You lose a lot of free will by accepting such a policy as status quo.

A great man once said, 'There are those who look at things the way they are and ask why...I dream of things that never were and ask why not?'

Did I just compare myself to Robert F. Kennedy? Yes I did.

Russ: A Gracious Winner

I'm in a clinic, so my state lets me try cases on behalf of the clinic's clients. I had the good fortune to try my first jury trial this past friday. What's more, I won!

My opposing counsel was a somewhat famous attorney in the local community, named "Bob Cohen" (fake name for my pseudo-anonymous blog). He was very gracious and not too brutal with the objections, and I really appreciated it. He also congratulated me on a job well done.

My opposing counsel's second chair (sort of an emergency attorney every trial attorney has on hand) also congratulated me. "Second Chair" was nice enough to shake my hand and say, "Congratulations, now you can tell everyone that you beat Bob Cohen."

I returned "Second Chair's" hand shake, smiled, and said, "Don't worry. I'll mention you, too."

Saturday, November 05, 2005

The 'Best Of' Barely Legal Blog

We have accumulated a lot of posts since we started this blog in March, and we get lots of new readers every day. For their benefit, and for our long-time readers who might want to take a trip down memory lane, Russ and I, with the input of some devoted readers, have complied a list of our favorite posts from before this school year started. So without further ado, here ya go:

The Jean Shorts Guy- Of all the 'People You Meet' profiles we did, this is our favorite, probably because it makes fun of such a ridiculous person. We both agreed that this is our favorite post of all the ones on the blog.

Law School vs. Med School, Law School vs. Barber College, Law School vs. High School- We did this little series comparing the finer points of law school to some rival education institutions. Back when we had comments, we had some law school defenders take these seriously and try to find flaws in our comparisons. And you wonder why we no longer have comments...

Online Law Schools- This post pokes a little fun at the emerging internet law schools, and wonders if some of the oddities of normal law school seep over.

Adventures in Autism- This is a post that has nothing to do with law school, but chronicles the time when I was a caretaker for an autistic child. Yeah, read that sentence again. Boggles the mind.

Brett From Blafayette- This is a story about of friend of Russ and me, and some good old fashioned red state values.

BigLaw Hiring Partner on Halloween- I realize now that we should have re-posted this on Halloween, but lets face it, we aren't that organized.

Exam Dress, Exam Dress Follow Up- This post was just one born out of my procrastinating even during a final. You'll notice that the follow up again refers back to the days when we accepted comments. I don't miss those days at all...

Interviewing Fun, Personal Injury- These two posts both deal with an ill-fated interview I had with a personal injury firm...I need to work on my interviewing skills, I think.

Best Laid Plans- This is a pretty random story (which we are known to post from time to time) about Russ learning a cruel lesson during puberty.

Sometimes Cheating Pays- This is a pretty random story about me learning a cruel lesson when I was still a child.

The Canary- Of all the 'people you meet' posts we did, we got the most feedback about this one, oddly enough. But considering what type of law student that comprises the target audience of this blog, perhaps I shouldn't be surprised.

Foot in Mouth Disease Strikes Again- I can't even imagine what the reaction to this post would have been had we still had comments when it was posted. If I have learned anything, it's that some of our readers love them some Jesus.

The Rising 3L's Dilemma- I haven't seen this girl since our first fateful meeting. I really wonder how she is doing at times, but you can't say she wasn't warned.

The Blossoming of a Law Student- In this post, Russ talks about his inspiration for becoming a lawyer. It might sound tongue-in-cheek, but I believe that Russ was 100% serious in this post.

There is Wisdom in his Foolishness- Finally, this is a post I made about an encounter with a high school classmate a while back. The closer I get to graduating law school, the more I envy him.

There you have it, Russ and my favorite posts. Obviously there are a lot more we could have picked, but whatever, we are lazy, and besides, it wouldn't make much sense to link all the posts we have perviously done, would it?