Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Yet Another Hatable Law Student

Apparently, some 1L at Michigan was so upset that one of his professors had not yet posted grades that he wrote him a ridiculous email taking him to task. Somebody sent us a link to a blog (http://dionwantsanswers.blogspot.com/), all about the incident. Check it out.

***UPDATE: That blog is no longer there. Luckily, I saved a copy of his letter. Note: it was emailed to the professor and several other staff members. Here it is:


Professor Hills,

The morning of Friday has now come and gone. A few questions and requests:

1. When did you begin grading our exams?

2. Was it not foreseeable that by giving a 20 page exam with a 6,000 word limit that you were thereby committing yourself to an extensive grading project that would require you to begin grading the exams before whatever your answer to #1 above is?

3. In our review session before the final you sermonized about the professional responsibilities of an attorney. Because we would hold such weighty responsibilities in our professional careers you said that you would impose similar responsibilities regarding the exam. In particular, you made it clear that you would brook no excuse regarding an exam turned in after the 8 hour time limit. You made it clear that we were responsible for planning ahead and ensuring that the 8 hour time limit would be honored. Do you feel no reciprocal responsibility toward us, your students? A responsibility that extends beyond ex post facto apologies?

4. Please stop saying "I'm so sorry". A) The phrase has lost all meaning from constant repetition throughout the entire semester. B) Few students believe you. C) Fewer students care whether you>subjectively impose upon yourself an appropriate level of guilt.

Sincerely,

(the law student's name)

Monday, January 30, 2006

3 Types Of People In This World

One of our recent detractors claims that his insulting email was all a joke, despite not being ironic, humorous, or wry. He then said that he really is a fan of the blog and faulted us for not knowing what's funny and being able to tell that he was joking.

This is another example of my theory that there are three types of people in the world.

1) Those that do it.

2) Those that don't get it.

and finally...

3) Quentin Tarantino Fans: People who can spot what's cool, interesting, funny, and compelling but are, themselves, none of those things.

Russ, Eloquent As Always

Russ and I received a particularly amusing email from a reader who spent close to 500 words explaining why giving away outlines is "un-American". The joke was obviously lost on this poor soul, and I told him as much. He fired back that he knew it was a joke, and then proceeded to rehash all his arguments again. (If he knew it was a joke, why is he arguing it?) Then he told us to read "Atlas Shrugged" because "it will change change your life", which is coincidently a quote from one of the annoying "People You Meet at Law School". That led to this exchange between Russ and I:

Me: I don't understand why these idiots feel the need to argue about something that isn't even at dispute, and then quote shit from Ayn Rand.

Russ: Some people live life to tickle their own asshole with the pink feather of intellectualism.

Sunday, January 29, 2006

Follow up to yesterday's post....

Normally I never feel the need to defend or explain any of our posts, but since in the past 24 hours it has become apparent that at least a portion of our readers take this blog way too seriously, allow me to clear something up:

Yesterday's post, entitled "Mike and Russ Argue", was a joke. Nothing said in that post was the actual opinion of either of us. None of the assertions made by either of us is an actual fact. For example, I do not actually believe that outlines are "community property". Russ does not have anonymous sex with random strangers. And, for the love of God, Russ did not jerk off for money on spring break. How any of you thought that this was supposed to be anything other than an absurd argument between friends is beyond me.

For the readers who read yesterday's post, chuckled, and knew it was a joke, congratulations, you still have some common sense left. For those of you who had any other interpretation, the pressure of law school is clearly getting the best of you.

Saturday, January 28, 2006

Mike and Russ Argue

Yesterday's advice column led to a disagreement between myself and a reader, with whom Russ sided:

Reader: I must disagree with your assessment that because you have hooked up with someone, (isn't "hooking up" also a euphemism?) you get to have their outline?? It didn't sound like their relationship was that serious. They went out a few times and "ended up" sleeping together. Come on. That's not even a real relationship.

Plus, I know some people, like you :), don't take law school seriously, but seems like this guy did. He worked really hard on his outline, why should he share it with someone he "ended up" sleeping with? I don't think the girl should have asked for it to begin with. Did she even offer hers in return? Maybe she's not too smart, that doesn't seem like a good deal to me.

Hey, I don't know if she should date this guy again, but maybe she shouldn't be so ready to sleep with someone before she even knows if he likes her enough to share outlines! I'm a girl, so it's not like I am just siding with the guy for the sake of it. I say, she should give him another chance and not ask him to give up such a huge thing....You know that 1st semester law school makes everyone crazy!

Mike: Just because you hook up with someone doesn't mean you get to have their outline. But it does mean he should have given his outline to her. It's the difference between being nice and being an ass. I would have shared my outline, and I am nice. Russ wouldn't have (we disagreed), but he is an ass. As far as sharing outlines goes, it's one of those things you should just do. If you have made a good outline, and you share it, people will like you more, and think you are nice. I have recieved outlines from law review people for three years, and they are among the few people I have respect for who are on law review. And for the record, I never asked...They offered, and I didn't have to have sex with them. Regarding the guy, trust me, if the first semester of law school makes him that crazy, he isn't going to get any better.

Russ: I'm with you, sister, the only thing a person should be required to give with a night of fevered passion is oral.

Reader: Yes, I am sure you guys would have given your outines. But how valuable are your outlines, really? :) Maybe this dude put his whole life and soul into these outlines! Then he sleeps with this girl and all of a sudden she wants his outlines. Not really fair to him to expect that. Of course, I am not clear on the seriousness of their relationship. It just seems like they were acquaintances to happen to sleep together. If they were boyfriend/girlfriend, I would expect them to share, ... now I am just rambling because I have had too much to drink. Here's my conclusion, non-commital sex does not equal outline privileges.

Mike: You are missing the point. The key here is not the sex, it is the sharing of outlines. In very simple terms, Good person=shares outlines, Bad person=doesn't share outlines. It is that simple. The fact that she had sex with him does not entitle her to his outlines, but if anything, it should sweeten the deal on his end. But the fact that he refused to share the outlines even after their intimate relations just goes to show that he is a dick.

I would not be where I am without the kindness of people who share outlines. I have never had anyone refuse to share an outline, but I do know those people exist. At the end of the day, you have to care for your fellow man (and woman), and if that means letting them use your outline, then so be it. Those people who share their outlines will have good karma in their favor, and those who do not won't.You are correct: Non-commital sex does not equal outline sharing privileges. But I ask you: Shouldn't it? Shouldn't this young man have enough kindness is his heart to share his outline with a young lady who is trying to succeed in law school, just like him? He obviously likes her, if he still wants something with her. No, my anonymous friend, his refusal to share the outline is just a symptom of a deeper seeded issue, a problem with the very essence of his being. He is a prick, an ass, a cock, whatever adjective you want to use. This young lady deserves a man who has the decency to share outlines with his friends. I, for one, hope that she decides to cut off all ties with such a shallow and pedantic individual, for she deserves more.

Russ: Mike you are so gay. I don't even give my real name sometimes after sex, why would I give an outline? I mean where does it stop? Should I be obligated to change her oil as a fellow driver? Do her taxes as a fellow taxpayer? Sex for me is a one-night transaction which is, at most, followed by an awkward "hello" in the hall.

Mike: Russ, it is not about the sex. It is all about living in a society where you show some semblance of brotherhood to a fellow man (and woman). As far as I am concerned, outlines are community property, everybody has a stake in them. The theory of the socratic method is that all the students help teach fellow students. It follows then that outlines made by individual students should be shared with at least one fellow student in need. In this case, the fact that she had sex with him several times takes it out of the category of a one-night transaction. If he was a tax expert, he should have at least given her some advice on her returns. And don't give me this one-night transaction shit. You know how I know you're gay? I remember when you needed money on spring break, and you let secretly gay frat boys watch you jerk off in the car for $20.

Russ: I see your point, Mike. By the way, thanks again for the $20.

Mike: Unlike the assbag who wouldn't share his outlines, I am willing to help a friend in need. I would have given you the $20 regardless, but you were so insistant about earning it. Who am I to argue?

Reader: You are both apparently gay. Seen any good cowboy movies lately?

Friday, January 27, 2006

Ask Barely Legal

We get lots of emails and IMs from readers who want our advice on any number of topics. Rather than answer these personally, we decided to post these questions and our answers on the blog for the world to see. This week's questions comes to us from a female 1L:

Hey Guys,

I have a dilemma. Last semester, I started casually seeing this guy in my section, and we ended up sleeping together a few times. This was towards the end of the semester. He really has his shit together and made some really great outlines for our classes, and I asked if I could have a copy of them, because mine weren't so great. And guess what? The asshole told me 'no', and he isn't sharing with anyone! I could understand if we were just friends, but at this point I thought we were more than that. We didn't really talk much over break, but now he acts like he wants to be a real couple. What should I do?

First, can we please put to rest the phrase "sleeping together"? It's so 1980's sitcom. Please just say "hooking up" or "having sex" or "fucking" or something. Spare the euphenisms. Anyway, on to the question. It is my firm belief that outlines are to be shared, not hoarded. That isn't to say that you should have to give your outline to anyone who asks, but I think that if you two hooked up, he should have shared his outline. Now, it's possible he thought that you only had sex with him for his outlines. Although that isn't the case here, (and it would require a huge ego on his part), it is still a good exchange. Even if he thought that your motive was to obtain his outlines, he still should have shared. I am on the record saying that sex-for-outline exchanges are presumed valid.

Now we have moved forward, and you want to know whether to start seeing him again. The answer is quite simply no. This guy refused to share outlines with someone whom he had seen naked. That is unacceptable. What else is he going to refuse to share? Will he not give you a bite of his dessert? Will he not allow you to have a fair portion of the blankets, leaving you shivering on the edge of the bed? Will he make you chip in on his gas bill for the hot water you used when you showered at his house? This guy obviously does not have the qualities you should want in a boyfriend. He is a typical 'me-first' guy that there is an overabundance of in law school. I don't know you, or anything about you, but I am fairly certain you can do better.

Let me leave you with this: Last night I went out to dinner with my mom and stepdad. The dish my mom ordered was too spicy for her, so she asked my stepdad to trade. My stepdad, being the good guy he is, traded with her despite the fact that spicy food gives him the hiccups. Would this clown do that for you? Of course not. He'd selfishly eat his dinner while you sat there, staring at your plate. Then, he'd make you pay him back for the dinner you "refused to eat", and I bet he wouldn't even go through the Wendy's drive-thru on the way home, even though you were starving. So my advice is to forget him, and find a non-law student. Best of luck.

If you have something you need advice on, email it to barelylegalblog@gmail.com. All emails will remain anonymous.

Thursday, January 26, 2006

More Webcam Class Fun

I was sitting comfortably at home, half-listening to the professor talk about some Securities Regulations stuff, when he suddenly and unexpectedly called on me.

Prof: "Mr. [My mispronounced last name], can you explain this to us?

I was faced with a dilemma. I hadn't read, and even if I had it wouldn't have mattered because I had no idea what his question was.

Prof: "Mr. [My mispronounced last name], are you there?

I was about to ask him to repeat the question when I had a much better idea. I reached over and disconnected my webcam. This way, I could still see and hear the professor but he and the class couldn't see or hear me

Prof: "Mr. [My mispronounced last name], are you with us? Mr. [My mispronounced last name]? Oh well, I guess we are having technical difficulties. Mr. [Law Review Guy], what do you think?"

Satisfied with my ingenuity, I laid down on the couch and fell asleep to the sweet sounds of Securities Regulations.

This Explains A Lot



Going through my photo album. I came across this hauntingly forshadowing photograph.

The impressionable guy in the "footie jamies" is me. The gentleman breaking the do-not-serve-alcohol-to-minors statute is my father. No one knows who's responsible for the real crime in this photo, the orange carpet (in fact, I don't think there's a natural fiber in this entire photo).

I'm still looking for a picture of him feeding me hotwings. That would be the final piece of the "Russ Puzzle."

Wednesday, January 25, 2006

UPDATE

Since yesterday I talked about my affinity for updates, I thought I'd give you a few updates regarding recent posts:

Ike- Ike has fully recovered from his illness, and is back to normal (which means sleeping 18 hours a day). My parents have generously offered to pay his vet bills, which I gladly accepted.

Seating Chart Experiment- As you may recall, I have chosen to stay off of the seating chart in one of my classes with the hope that the professor will never call on me. Thus far, I have not been called on, although it is still very early in the game. But she obviously looks at the seating chart before calling on someone, so I am hopeful that my plan will work.

Loud Computer Fan- I received a great deal of advice from people about my fan, and I also heard from a lot of people with the same problem. The computer nerds' advice broke down to four different types: 1) Get a new computer; 2) The computer is too hot; 3) The fan is dirty; and 4) Buy a quieter fan. For me, (1) isn't an option, and I am too lazy to do (4). I think (2) is part of the problem, since I rarely turn my computer off, but (3) seemed to be the most helpful. I took my laptop apart and blew the dust out with one of those computer air cleaners. It helped, to a degree, but I think that at the end of the day, I just have a loud fan. It has almost become a point of pride for me. I rather enjoy it when the fan kicks on and the people in front of me turn around in unison to see if someone is starting a lawnmower.

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

Random Thought

Is there anything more exciting than watching a segment on Unsolved Mysteries and then at the end there is an update?

I Too Was Warned

When I was applying to law school, I was living in a major city, renting a room from a developer who was waiting for the permit to tear down the old house and build a luxury condo.

I told this developer, a very smooth good looking Irish immigrant, that I was going to be an attorney.

In his deep Irish brogue he told me, "Russell, yeh don't want teh be doin' that. I build luxury mansions and townhomes fer attorneys all the toim"

"Telling me that attorneys buy luxury mansions from you isn't exactly the most persuasive argument against being an attorney," I replied.

"Yeh, but the bloody husband is never home. So, I usually end up sleepin' with their wives."

"Oh," I replied, imagining this tool-belted Colin Farrell romancing my wife-to-be-named-later.

"If it's any consolation the wives were very attractive."

He couldn't have been more poignant if he had spoken in a limerick.

Monday, January 23, 2006

Existential Disappointment

Another great post from Melissa (aka Opinionista) about the fallout from her revealing herself and the response she has received from the legal community. That response has been both absurd and completely predictable. In a nutshell, lawyers from across the nation have derided the law school she attended, the college she attended, the firm she worked for, and her personally. They haven't done this because they dislike her writing. No, they do this because they are shallow and self-loathing, and deeply resent her for attacking the sacred cow that is big firm life. Or, as Melissa characterized it, "If you spend life being ultimately concerned with things that are not worthwhile, you’ll end up in a state called 'existential disappointment'.”

I don't think I've seen a better phrase to describe (many) attorneys than that. I never understood why people care about rankings so much. I never understood why the highest paying job was therefore the best. I could never make myself actually care about the stuff I was learning in my classes, nor could I ever trick myself into thinking that I actually wanted to practice law for a living. In fact, I knew very early on that law school wasn't the place for me. Why didn't I quit? I don't know, but by now, it's too late not to finish. But I am not going to make the same mistake twice: I'm not taking the bar, and I don't ever intend to practice law. I don't know exactly what I am going to do, but I do know that I'll be happier than I would be otherwise.

Thursday, January 19, 2006

Recent Exchange

Mike: What is the appeal of Law School Prom, Barristers Ball, or whatever the fuck a school decides to call it?

Russ: I have no idea.

Mike: It seems to me like a concession that your social life has hit rock bottom. People always complain that they hate law school, so why go to a dance with all the people you can't stand to be around?

Russ: What if prom kept getting extended further and further on into your life? The Insurance Adjustors Ball?

Mike: I can understand maybe if the school is in a tiny town with nothing else going on, but I tell you what, if your town is big enough to have a Chili’s, I guarantee you can find something better to do.

Russ: Chili’s?

Mike: I am going so far as to say that an evening a Chili’s would be better than Law Prom. Anyway, my first year, some girl asked me in casual conversation if I was going, and I said “no”. Then the guy next to me said, “You answered her question like she asked if she could take a dump on your laptop.” So you can see how much I want to go.

Russ: Fair enough. It’s just silly. Is it special to wear a suit? We’re going to be attorneys, they wear suits everyday. Maybe we should just make female attorneys wear evening gowns to work and that will be the end of it.

You Have to Love Technology

I have a class that is being taught via webcam. Today, for the first time, I logged in from home. It was great. I wore pajamas, ate lunch, watched TV, surfed the internet, played with Ike...

Come to think of it, this is what I do during lots of class periods, only this time, I was actually in attendance.

Pranktastic!

Faithful readers will remember that our friend Brett from Blafayette once had his mom discover pornography in his room while Brett was in high school and then had to sit through a painful, yet hilarious lecture about the evils of porn.

Well, today, Brett has a girlfriend (sorry ladies) so you'd think his porn needs would have diminished. But, it seems he's still up to his old tricks. In fact, his girlfriend has a blog where she detailed the following story (note: I'm paraphrasing here so you guys won't google the entry and read her blog).

This coming weekend I meet Brett's Parents! They're visiting from out of town and sleeping on his bed. Brett and I have been cleaning the room and have had to hide his pornography collection (20 Playboys and a Video). Brett says his mom is a bit of a snoop.

I decided to leave a comment under this posting. I quickly registered Brett's mom's name with Blogger and left the following comment, ostensibly, from Brett's mom.

What! Talking behind my back? I'm a snoop? I didn't travel all the way to Lafayette to discover my son's new girlfriend was enabling a pornography addiction!

Brett quickly got the following email from his girlfriend:

Look at the comment under my latest post!!! Does your mom know I have a blog??? Or is this one of your stupid friends, Russ or Mike??? I'm freaking out!!!

Brett let her know that I had just called him to relay what I had done and her anxiety was extenguished. Wait until she finds out I replaced her birth control with tic tacs, though. (I'm hoping they'll name the result of that prank "Pranky," or, failing that, "Russ")

Wednesday, January 18, 2006

I didn't realize this was a goal until we achieved it

We are the first thing that comes up in a Google search for "bad law students".

To All the Computer Nerds...

I need your help. My laptop (which is two years old) has the loudest laptop fan you'll ever hear. I never used to notice it at home, but once I started bringing it to class on a regular basis, several people commented on the noise. And by commented, I mean pointed out that when the fan turns on, it sounds like a 747 taking off. Can I fix this? If so, how? Please email or IM suggestions to barelylegalblog@gmail.com /AIM: barelylegalblog

Tuesday, January 17, 2006

Random Rant #6

I am the type of guy that lets the little stuff get to me. Understand that these things don't ruin my day, they just annoy me and piss me off and make me wonder why everyone can't just do things the way that I do them. One such annoyance is the fact that law students cannot grasp the simple concept of passing things around the classroom.

On almost a daily basis, if not more often, professors will hand something out (most often an attendance sheet) that needs to be passed around the room, and on almost a daily basis, if not more often, someone fucks it up.

The easiest way to pass something out to the entire class is to start in the front, pass it all the way down the front row, and then back to the second row. Once the second row has signed in or gotten the handout or whatever it is, they pass it back to the third row, and so on. The biggest cause of these fuck ups is an aisle that seperates sections of the room. All too often, the last person in a row of a particular section of the room will pass the paper back, rather than go across the aisle. This works if the entire section adheres to this method, but inevitably, one person will then pass it across the aisle, leaving the rest of his or her section without the handout.

Other common fuck ups:

* The Stall: One person gets the attendance sheet or pile of handouts, and assuming it has made it's way around the room, stops the passing procedure: They do this despite the fact that half the class has yet to sign in, or there is still a large pile of handouts.

*The Trance: This is the person who is so engrossed in the lecture that they don't see the attendance sheet in front of them. It sits there until someone pokes them and points out the idle sign in sheet.

* The Two-Man Job: This is when someone gets the sign-in sheet and then passes it the wrong way (such as forward, when it needs to go back). The person receiving the sheet then wrongly assumes that because he has already signed in, everyone has. He then keeps the paper, stalling the entire process.

* The Snoop: This occurs when someone signs in, but rather than pass the sheet on, keeps it for several moments, carefully examining the signitures, trying to figure out who is there and who isn't. While this person eventually passes it on, he or she wastes valuable passing time.

So why does this matter? Why do I let this get to me? Because the common result of improper passing procedure is The Cluster Fuck. This is when someone fucked up the pass around, and at the end of class, 40 people have to gather around and try to sign the sheet. Even then, instead of working as a group to sign in quickly, it's every man and women for themselves, making the entire process take that much longer.

You would think that a bunch of people with at least a bachelors degree, if not more,working towards a doctorate (sort of) could figure out a simple thing such as passing a paper around a room. But they can't. And it annoys me to no end.

And to end, allow me to preemptively answer some questions, before you email me or IM me about this:
1) Yes, I realize I put way too much thought into this.
2) No, I don't feel like I should have better things to do than worry about this.
3) Yes, I am the world's foremost expert on paper passing procedure.
4) Yes, I am proud of that fact.
5) Yes, I do discount your intellience level if you cannot properly pass papers around a classroom.
6) No, you go to hell.

Monday, January 16, 2006

The Fraternity Coach

When I was in undergrad with Mike, my senior year I started hanging around with younger guys (mostly sophomores). There isn’t a considerable difference between a 21 year old and a 19 year old but for some reason some of those younger guys would look to me as a leader and seek my advice, which I was always thought was ridiculous.

Brett from Blafayette: Russ, can we get a keg at our hotel this Spring Break?

Russ: (In a father’s knowing tone) Only if you’re good.

The fact that I was given any sort of extra respect based on my age struck me as so ludicrous that I would adopt a grizzled old man’s voice, patterned on Joe Paterno, whenever I gave advice. I dubbed this voice "The Fraternity Coach"
Like at a Party…

Russ: (As Fraternity Coach) Hansen, you’re getting no where with that girl. Hit the showers! Mookie, you’re up. Let’s see what the Mook can do out there.

Or before a test…

Russ: (As Fraternity Coach) Mike, You're six foot nothing. Two hundred and something. And you've got hardly a speck of academic ability. You hung in with the most mediocre school in the land for four years. And you're gonna walk out of here with a degree from (our mediocre undergrad). In this life you don't have to prove nothing to nobody except yourself. And after what you've gone through, if you haven't done that by now...it ain't gonna never happen."

After I graduated however, several people my same age (5th year seniors) where still in school and still active in the fraternity. Mike would call me up (he’s two years younger than me) and say, "You should hear the long winded speeches these guys give like they came off mount Sinai because they’re two years older."

Once again, I was bewildered by the idea of a 22 year old wise man. I told Mike, "You should stand up and say, ‘Why are we listening to people who can’t even graduate on time. Shouldn’t they be studying?’"

I guess I still haven’t changed much. For example...

Sunday, January 15, 2006

They Should Have Showed 'Encino Man'

Girlfriend: This channel is showing 'In the Army Now', 'Pauly Shore is Dead', and 'Son-In-Law' in a row. They must be doing some sort of Pauly Shore marathon.

Me: Ya think? Way to crack the code, Nancy Drew.

Friday, January 13, 2006

A Rare Sports Post

I am a Bengals fan, and I always have been. Snicker if you will, but I’m not ashamed to admit it. I was born and raised in Cincinnati, and I am true to my hometown teams. I’m not one of those annoying fair-weather fans who started rooting for the Cowboys or 49ers or whoever the most successful team at the time was when they were young, despite the fact that they have never been anywhere close to Dallas or San Francisco or wherever. No, I have stuck by the Bengals through thick and thin (although all I can really remember is the thin), and I am proud of it. I am fully aware that I drew the short stick in the lottery of home team rooting interests, but I won’t let that get me down. Year after year, I bravely spent the Sunday afternoons of my fall and winter cheering on a team that vaguely resembled an NFL franchise. And I was happy to do so, because I knew that all this suffering would pay off one day.

However, I have learned that rooting for such a bad team for so long took a toll on my ability to be a fan. Don’t get me wrong, I love football, and I watch as much as is humanly possible. But watching a Bengals game is a dramatically different experience for me than watching any other football game. For Buddhists, existence is suffering, but for me, watching the Bengals is suffering. I am deeply invested in the outcome of Bengals games. (The only other time I cared so deeply about who won a game was Super Bowl XXXVI, when the Patriots beat the heavily favored Rams. And that was because I hated the Rams so bad, with Kurt Warner’s disgustingly overt Christianity and dyke-ish wife, and Mike Martz’s smug look on his face that you just wanted to smack…But I digress). For so long, I have watched a hapless team make terrible mistakes at crucial times. I have watched them snatch defeat from the jaws of victory more times than I care to recall. I have watched botched field goals and botched punts and botched trick plays and botched regular plays and botched coaching decisions and botched drafts choices and…well, so many botches that the word has lost all meaning. The point is, I was conditioned to expect failure.

This season was supposed to be different, and it was. Marvin Lewis was in his third year as coach, and his influence on the franchise was obvious. After two years of 8-8 records, I, and many other Bengals fans expected them to take a big step forward and end their drought of 15 years without appearing in the playoffs. And wouldn’t you know it, they did. They pulled off a record of 11-5, won their division, and made the playoffs. But it wasn’t as happy as I would have hoped. Despite their success, I still had the same feelings during their games. I harped on every mistake. I lamented every missed opportunity. I briefly enjoyed those 11 wins, but couldn’t get past those five losses. I was always expecting the other shoe to fall. In week 12, with a 34-0 3rd quarter lead over the Ravens, I let myself relax. I conceded the win. I answered a phone call from my girlfriend, which I never did during games. I finally allowed myself to enjoy my favorite team, and what happened? Apparently, the Bengals also began to enjoy themselves and let the Ravens score a few times. The Bengals won, 41-29, and the game was never really in doubt, but I learned a valuable lesson: It can’t ever be easy.

So I approached last weekend’s playoff game against the Steelers with much trepidation. The last time the Bengals were in the playoffs, I was 11. I didn’t know how to react. I am a realist; I knew they probably wouldn’t win the Super Bowl, but I at least wanted a good showing. I wasn’t sure if I could handle a first-round drubbing at the hands of the Steelers. If they lost on the road next week to Denver, I could deal with that. But they had to beat the Steelers. I wanted them to win this game. I needed them to win this game, for my mental well-being. All day Sunday, I paced around nervously, drinking lots of water, obsessively cleaning my apartment, just waiting for the game to start.

And when it did, it couldn’t have started better. On the second play of the game, our quarterback, Carson Palmer, the Golden Boy, the Savior of the Bengals, completed a 66 yard deep bomb down the field. But my excitement turned to despair as the camera panned back to Palmer, writhing in pain on the field. A replay revealed what had happened. One of the Steelers linemen lunged for Palmer and hit his knee, bending it in an unnatural position. It was obvious that he had torn something, and that he wouldn’t be back to play in this game. I was furious. I wanted blood. I wanted the Bengals to take a cheap shot on Steelers QB Ben Roethlisberger and break his fucking neck. I wanted them to knock Jerome Bettis’ fat fucking ass out of the game. I wanted Marvin Lewis to go over to Steelers coach Bill Cowher and break his grotesquely enlarged jaw.

However, my rage subsided as Bengals backup QB Jon Kitna led them down the field. Oddly enough, my anger transformed into relief. You see, if the Bengals lost with a healthy Carson Palmer, I would be devastated, and my worst fears would be true. But with Jon Kitna, I knew the Bengals couldn’t win, and even if they did, it would be a pleasant and quite unexpected surprise. I was at peace with the Bengals losing without their stud, because I knew that they may have won with him, but I wouldn’t have to face the possibility of them losing with him. With Kitna, I know it’s a loss. And for the first time that I can remember, I was able to sit back and enjoy watching a Bengals game.

You may wonder why I put myself through this, and I don’t really have a good answer for you, other than this: I care. I care deeply about the Bengals. It may not be rational, it may seem kind of crazy, but I do, and nothing could possibly change that. So now all I have to do is sit back and wait for the next time the Bengals are going to be in the news: the NFL draft, April 29-30. On a side note, my exams start the day after the draft ends, and I’ll give you one guess as to what my biggest concern will be that weekend.

Do That Voodoo That You Do So Well

Girlfriend: Melissa Joan Hart had a kid! In fact she met her husband in 2002 and got married in 2003. We've been dating longer than "Sabrina the Teenage Witch" and her husband have known eachother and she's already a mother!

Russ: You said it yourself, she's a witch. She probably used black magic to make her marriage happen. If you want to get proposed to, you'll have to do it the old fashioned way.

Girlfriend: You mean get pregnant?

Russ: I was actually looking for 'good natured patience' but I think we just learned a lot about each other.

Thursday, January 12, 2006

I caught an old episode of Family Matters recently...

Has there ever been a more dramatic departure from the original premise of a television series than on this show? It started as a fairly realistic portrayal of the day-to-day struggles of a working class African-American family, and ended with the most hyperbolic nerd in tv history inventing a machine that turns him into the Black Fonz.

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

An Experiment

My First Rule of Law School: The only day when you need to be early to class is the first day, so you can ensure that you get the seat of your choice. Far too many lazy students have slipped into the classroom just as the prof is about to begin, only to find that their seat choices are limited to the first few rows, right in the line of fire. A corollary to this rule is that if you miss the first day of class (like I did this semester), or arrive too late, you forfeit your right to bitch about where you sit. Luckily, my classes have been filled with ambitious 2Ls who keep back row seats vacant, and I have assumed my typical spot in the back.

In one class, the prof likes to call on lots of people, and to have lots of participation. I dislike both being called on and participating. So I have a plan: I am not going to put my name on the seating chart. I'll sign the attendance sheet each day, and take my seat in the back right corner. But she won't know who I am, and hopefully, she'll leave me alone. If I can pull this off, I will have found a loophole in the entire seating chart universe.

Or, as Russ put it, "You are one step closer to being the Phantom of the Law School".

The Best Google Search I've Seen For Us So Far...

funny law school blog people you meet exam dress work at grocery store

Yeah, that pretty much sums up our entire blog in one nonsensical cluster of words.

Monday, January 09, 2006

I just read an article...

...about the top baby names of 2005. For the girls: Emma, Emily, Madison, Kaitlyn, Sophia, Isabella, Olivia, Hannah, Makayla, Ava.

I am surprised "Pretentia" isn't on the list.

All In My Head

(Setting: My brain, during my 9:30 class this morning.)

Superego: Hey Ego, we need to go buy our books. We already missed the first two days of classes, it's time to get on the ball here.

Id: Shutup, Superego. There is no rush to buy the books. It isn't as if we are going to go home and read them anyway. When class is over, we are going to get up, walk out the door, drive home, and take a nap. End of story.

Ego: Will you two be quiet please? I am sick of you guys fighting all the time. Yes, we do need to get books, but Id is right, I don't think we are going to read anything today, or tommorrow for that matter.

Superego: Nevertheless, we should go get them now. The bookstore is right downstairs, and there won't be very many people there this early, so we won't have to stand in line. Lets just go buy them now and we'll have them for whenever we are ready to start reading. It'll take 10 minutes, and then we can go take a nap, like Id wants. And we'll all be happy.

Id: Shutup, you pussy. Those are 10 minutes I will never get back. Buying books sucks. Plus, don't forget, we will have to carry those books out to the car. Law school books are heavy. Didn't we learn that our first year, when the bag broke on the way out to the parking lot? Look, lets just go home, take a nap, wake up and eat lunch, and figure out the books some other time.

Superego: That's your problem, Id. You always want to put stuff like this off, but eventually, we have to do it. This is a microcosm for the entire law school experience. We procrastinate for the entire semester, and then we have to buckle down and cram when it comes time to take the exams. And even then, you bitch about having to study so much. Do you know what kind of grades we could be getting if we just applied ourselves a little bit?

Ego: Superego is right. If we just do this now, it will be done. Then we can do whatever we want until we decide it is time to get to work. But it will just be easier to get this done now and not have to worry about it.

Id: I'm not worried about it.

Ego: Obviously. But Superego is, and you can't have your way all the time. You just had two weeks where we did everything you wanted to. It's time to get back in the swing of things, as far as school goes. We are going to go buy books after class.

Superego: Finally...

Id: Fuck...

(15 Minutes later)

Id: Hey, I just had an idea. What if we order our books online? We go home, get on the bookstore webpage, pick what we want to buy, and have them shipped to us. They'll get here in a few days, which is no problem since we aren't going to be reading over the next week anyway. Plus, no heavy lifting. We'll let the UPS guy do that. The only difference is about $15 for shipping, which we can afford. Come on, this way we are all happy.

Superego: That is $15 we could do something better with. This is such a stupid idea, lets just buy them here and be done with it.

Ego: I like Id's plan. It's a good compromise. You get what you want, in that the books will be here soon, and he gets what he wants, in going home now and being lazy. It's settled, we'll order them online.

Id: Yesssss....In your face, Superego!

Superego: (muttering) I am really getting sick of that little bitch....

Saturday, January 07, 2006

Random Rant #5

For my money, the greatest innovation of the new millennium has been the scan-it-yourself machines at the grocery store. No longer do impatient shoppers like myself have to stand in the regular line, waiting for a minimum wage cashier to work her way through baby wipes and Hungry Man dinners and Marlboros that the masses so often buy in large quantities, wasting my valuable leisure time in the process. Now, my fellow anti-social shoppers and I can ring up our groceries, pay, and leave with minimal human contact.

But lately, I have noticed that I have been waiting longer and longer to scan my items, and I have figured out why that is: Old people. For the first few years that these scan-it-yourself machines were around, only the bravest of the early adaptors would dare try to scan their own groceries. Elderly people would stay far away from this new, mysterious contraption, and a few undoubtedly wrote it off as “a tool of the devil.” But as old folks have acquired a firmer grasp on technology (thanks to computer classes down at the senior center), more and more of our grandparents have dared to try and scan their own groceries, with (at least from my perspective) disastrous results.

Over the past few months I have observed:

*An old woman with an entire cartful of groceries trying to scan them herself, despite the fact that the sign above the console clearly says “Small Orders Only”. The console at this particular store only give you three bags to fill, and you have to keep these bags in place until you pay. This woman kept trying to put her filled bags back in the cart. Each time she did, the machine would lock up and instruct her to put the bag back on the shelf. She would do this, and then put the same bag back in her cart. Eventually, she got flustered and simply walked out of the store.

*An old man trying to insert a check into the slot where you insert cash. He did this over and over, at least a half-dozen times, before the clerk came over and took his check.

*An elderly couple that accidentally pressed the “Espanol” language option and vainly tried to continue the transaction in Spanish, growing more and more frustrated until a kind shopper (not me) told them how to change the language to English.

*An old man who had a basket full of produce. He kept trying to scan zucchinis, grapefruits, and other assorted fruits and vegetables, despite the fact that none of the items had barcodes on them. Finally, annoyed, I went over and told him that to ring up these items, he had to hit the ‘Produce’ button, type in the number from the list, and place the item on the scanner to be weighed. He gave me a blank look, then put all his groceries back in the basket, hit ‘Cancel’, and went to get in a regular checkout line.

I propose that you have to get a license to operate the self-checkout. Unfortunately, if they continue to allow old people to drive cars, I think they are still going to be able to scan their own groceries. On the bright side, no old person has ever killed or injured anyone with the scan-it-yourself machine. So that's something...

All In The Family

My little brother attended high school at a boarding school. During his freshman year, I visited him and met his spastic 14 year old roommate. During the tour of the dorm room the roommate, for some reason, told me how his upper bunk would wobble alot when he was up there.

I gave the roommate a knowing look and said, "What are you doing up there, buddy?"

"Uhhhh. Nothing," said the embarassed roommate.

Then my little brother put his hand on the roommate's shoulder, looked him in the eye, and said in a dead pan tone, "Take it easy up there, Romeo."

A few years later, during his senior year, my brother and his friend figured out how to send emails to the entire campus from what appeared to be the Dean's office. They immediately sent an email from "the Dean" to everyone declaring that a Chinese dignitary would be arriving the next day and that everyone should wear a dress shirt and tie in honor of this historic visit.

The next day my brother put on a dress shirt and tie and went outside to see that the entire campus was in formal wear for the Chinese minister of education's (or whatever) perusal.

To celebrate his successful prank, he immediately ordered delivery from Szechwan Gardens and told a very confused deliveryman, "Gung Hoy Fat Choy! We are honored by your historic visit."

Friday, January 06, 2006

6 Of One, Half a Dozen Of The Other

I have a really cheap friend who would tell me things like, "Only fill the laundry detergent cup up halfway. They make the cups too big on purpose so that you'll buy more sooner."

But my girlfriend always tells me "Always double the dosage on medication recommendations. The suggested dosage is always to avoid liability. The rest of us can never get better because some 80 lb girl might get a stomach ache."

Who should I believe when I measure things out?

I've decided to split the difference and use both patterns of logic. Like when in the same day I eat no vegetables but drink 8 beers. Vive la difference!

Thursday, January 05, 2006

Bring A Glenivet For Me And My Boy, Mikey, And If You Tell The Bartender To Go Easy On The Water This 50 Cent Piece Has Your Name On It

Scene: The next morning after a hard night of drinking with my friends.

Girlfriend: Where'd you guys go last night?

Russ: (Famous Club)

Girlfriend: Cool! Did you know that Vince Vaughn hangs out there?

Russ: I sure hope he does! That's who I was telling girls who I was.

A First...

I now have all my grades from last term, and I received a B- in Professional Responsibility, marking the first time I have had a grade below a B since my sophomore year of college. But I shouldn't be surprised; One of our readers saw this coming a while back.

Wednesday, January 04, 2006

Off To A Fine Start

Conversation with my mom...

Mom: When do classes start?

Me: Today.

Mom: Oh, how did it go?

Me: I don't know, I wasn't there.

Mom: Why not?

Me: I'm a second-semester 3L, and the first day of classes is worthless. I don't have any books yet, and even if I did, I wouldn't have read them anyway. I am not going to go and take notes, and besides, all they do on the first day is pass out a syllabus, and talk about some pointless "history of the topic" of the class, which is never on the exam. And even if they did talk about something important (which they never do), it would be so basic that if I can't figure it out on my own, I wouldn't have made it to the second semester of my 3rd year to begin with.

Mom: That actually makes sense, I guess...

Monday, January 02, 2006

Calling Dr. Freud

I just read an article about how most peoples' sexuality is profoundly impacted by their first sexual experience and how most of these "first experiences" are in fact with pornography.

In essence, little Jimmy stumbles upon his mother's Nordstrom's catologue and becomes captivated by images of long legs in high heels. 20 years later, a full-grown Jim has a padlocked closet full of women's shoes. I'm not sure if this cause-and-effect relationship is true but we could always ask porn afficionado, Brett from Blafayette.

Now, parents who read this same article are likely to immediately start removing any media in their household which even implies sex in the vain hope that their son or daughter won't become some maladjusted pervert. This will only delay the inevitable, however, as their college freshman child will likely have some awkward drunken encounter that will either scar them for life or forever compel them to wear fraternity letters in the boudoir.

I say, "Why fight it? Make it work for you!" So, I'll be releasing a series of "parent approved" suggestive magazines that should steer curious teenagers in the right direction. Here are some tentative titles:

"Hot Wild Babes Who Agree With Their Mother-In-Law's Child Rearing Suggestions"

or how about...

"Lovely Ladies Of Your Ethnicity and Religion Posing With Their Trust Funds While Using Excellent Table Manners"

and for the ladies...

"Rich Doctors Gone Wild" (Actually, I think most women have already read this one)