Jobs + Exams = Terrible Times.

So I got my first rejection notice today. It wasn't a full-on rejection, but it realistically is as far as my circumstances are concerned: "We have filled our paid position, but if you can bring your own funding..."

Gah, it's not that I expect to just fall into whatever sweet gig I want, but I hate rejection. Hate hate hate.

And my first final is tomorrow. Joy to the world. No job, no bird, no money, not really on top of my school-shit, and no drinky-drink until finals are done? Fucking lame.

Quoting the Profs.

So since the year is at a close as far as classes are concerned, I thought it relevant to post some of the choice quotes from my classes this year. Most of them actually came from one old curmudgeon of a remedies professor, but he's a goldmine, so it's to be expected. Enjoy.

“Part of capitalism is the big guy screwing the little guy.”

“God help us, there’s no one in a litigation who isn’t suffering emotional damage.” (referring to plaintiffs who claim emotional damage as a result of having to pursue litigation).

“And tort law, which has a bit of a religious flavor to it.”

“Is there a difference between a prudent man and a prudent woman?”

“And if you need a potty break, well you just go ahead and take it.”

“Maybe Colorado on a bad day. They do some strange things in Colorado. Colorado and Hawaii: both places where they smoke too much dope. It’s true!”

“Being broke is the ultimate defense.”

“He may get an award, but he’s going to take a sizable haircut on it.”

“What frosts my cookies is…”

“I’m not subject to your policy you friggin’ idiot.”

“...which is why you should always be an oil company.”

“Most lawyers have the dream that their retirement case will walk into their office, rather be wheeled into their office.”

“The greedy little bastard.”

“And the lawyer’s firm, Dewey, Fleeceum, and Howe.”

“There are no underpaid medical insurance executives…there are no such people.”

“Even if your profession is theology, you don’t get everyone up to heaven.”

“What’s with this chair? I can’t get my large fanny into it.”

“Did you do discovery as provided by the statute? No? Well you’re fucked.”

“Do unto others before they do you.”

“Be a man, whatever you sex you are, be a man, take the bar here.”

“Chime in children!” (calling out a group of silent students)

“I wasn’t serious about nailing it to their foreheads, that’s not the proper way to serve.”

“The security staff, sometimes spelled goon squad.”

“What if I bought a hat that read: ‘Convict the Bastard!’ Embroidered, nice embroidery.”

“ ‘I just stabbed the Dean’ is not a dying declaration, ‘cause I don’t believe my death is imminent.”

“Incest is not the same as rape.”

“I wasn’t really arrested, but I was fingered.”

“Lock up the mafia and you lose some good restaurants.”

Sexin'!

"I got this icebox where my heart used to be." ~ Omari I. Grandberry

So it has been roughly 10.5 months since the last time I had sex. A 'dry-spell' would be polite.

I don't want to sound too pathetic. It's not that I haven't been without opportunity. But I do believe I've swung back toward my ole pre-'05 ways and am now affected with the idea that sex needs to be more than just fucking. If I wanted to be fucking, I could be fucking. I have officially had a relapse into concerns about "trust" and "emotional investment." Yea, I know, I feel weak just saying it.

Lately, I get drunk and maybe I end up necking with a bird. Maybe she plays with my junk, maybe she doesn't. But all the times it has gotten to the point where I get asked whether I "have a condom" or not, even if I do, I find a way of deflecting the idea and passing out. Passing out is easy when you only ever fool around with birds while well over the legal limit.

I'm seriously thinking about pushing it the extra 1.5 months to make it one year. It wouldn't be too hard as it would only involve, barring unforeseen circumstances, not having sex with the birds I'm pretty sure I could have had sex with a long time ago if I had gone along with the standard script. I think I could pull that off. Of course, if some lovely lady came into my life, adjustments would have to be considered and compromises would likely have to be made. In other words, if the right bird came along, I'd be fucking like a rabbit.

The irony of the dry-spell is that I still hear rumors about the girls I've supposedly had sex with. I partially feel like a douche even having to address such shit, but I figure it's better than ignoring it and running the risk of anyone thinking I'm telling anyone about the sex I'm not having with anyone. Yea. And as the rumors continue to spread, I look less and less credible. "Hi. My name is ____ and I'm a make out slut." Since when does a kiss mean fucking? Did I miss that memo?

Finals Have Arrived.

There is no denying it now, it is time to study for finals. I have two in-class and one take home. I kicked off the reading period proper-like last night. One bottle of Boone's Farm, one and a half Totino's, two episodes of Sex and the City, and 10 pages of His Excellency before passing out.

Remedies on the 29th, Evidence on the 7th, Arbitration on the 10th. After that? Still no job.

Job Hunt.

"One of the symptoms of an approaching nervous breakdown is the belief that one's work is terribly important."
~Bertrand Russell

So one of the deals about being in a professional school is that you're supposed to be geared toward being professional, go figure. It is at this part that I officially suck. Specifically, while many of my classmates have been tracking down, interviewing for, and eventually obtaining jobs over the course of the year, I have not. I had a job-hunting plan in place since mid-Fall. I had planned on implementing it no later than January. The plan was to square away Friday afternoons as I didn't have class and I figured it'd be less of a brain drain than doing real classwork, so it a seemed reasonable plan. Fridays since then? 15. Fridays actually spent looking for a job? 0. This wouldn't be so troublesome if I had just slid the job-hunt-work to another day of the week, or made it up on different days here and there. But that didn't happen. Not a day, not even a half.

What was I doing that was so much more important? I could blame it on classwork, moot court, or student group obligations. But that would be a stretch. The truth is I've never had to conduct an actual "job search," I've never had to exist in a professional setting for more than a short stretch (thus am wholly unfamiliar with the ins and outs of the etiquette), and I've been plain fucking lazy about completing the proper documents and looking for places that might be smart enough to take me on.

And now, "desperate" would be the operative word. My primary criteria in an employer right now is receiving payment for my services. You would think this is rather simple, not so much at this stage in the game. I need a notch on the "experience" section of my resume, which gives employers leverage this close to summer. But I'm not worthless. I'm capable, not stupid, and I give a shit. These are valuable traits, I think. How the hell do I know. Personally, if I could get some cash by drinking whisky and cheap beer and having moot-court-esque arguments in bars around the city, I'd much rather be doing that. Guess fucking what, no one is hiring for that position. I know, it was shocking to me too.

Here's hoping I can land something soon and don't end up having to become more familiar with baristanese in order to afford rent this summer.

Pizza Eating Etiquette.

The staple food for an overwhelming amount of the meetings and events that occur at my school is pizza. It is cheap, easy, people generally like it, and you can always find a place willing to deliver 4-10 pies. When there are slices left at the conclusion of any of these meetings and/or events, the remaining pizza is usually placed in the student lounge, whereupon it is attacked by students like a pack of wild vultures descending on the carcass of something that has been freshly-hit on the desert highway. It is really a spectacle, and I'd be a liar if I denied ever having participated in the orgy of hunger a few times myself.

However, a chronic problem that accompanies these feasts is the matter of disposing of the box. Besides proving to be incredibly frustrating to all those hapless students who open it hoping to find just one more slice, it is just plain rude and ugly to leave the box lying around. I have a simple solution for this. If a person takes the last slice from the box, and fails to immediately throw that box away (in one of the many garbage cans that adorn our student lounge), that person should be drug out into the street and shot. Now, this will seemingly be difficult to implement since almost no one in this city has a gun. In lieu of a failure to procure a loaded firearm, one can substitute the "shot" part of the punishment with a swift kick to the teeth.

This punishment may seem draconian and harsh for some. But I tell you what, the first time someone gets kicked in the mouth for not throwing a box away will be the last time someone will fail to throw the box away. Or maybe I can go back and find the knife-fighting guy in the park, I bet that genius has some great insight into how I can solve this problem.

Park & Knives.

Walking through the park the other day, I saw a man who looked to be imitating Steven Segal in a knife fight. He was actually wielding two full sized blades and throwing himself around like a drunk ballet dance. He was wearing sweatpants. Upon completion of that round of practice (I'm assuming I caught only a small chunk of the total scene), he sat down on a bench next to a man wearing a camouflage jacket and hat.

Part of me likes the idea that I live in a city that tolerates so much craziness that a man with big knives doing interpretive dance in a public square is not a major cause for concern. The other part of me says it's not 100% kosher to let fucking crazies, with no concern for their appearance (see above: sweatpants, seriously?), dance around like a tweaker while menacingly carrying mini-machetes and associating with either a poser veteran, or a real veteran hanging out in the park during the middle of the day, both of which are troubling. Just saying.

Sympathy for the Devil.

This whole polygamist ranch thing has been fascinating to me. Initially, I was pretty disturbed that over 400 children could be taken from their families on the allegations of one person. I recognize the dangers in not taking the children if the allegations are true, but until something else is substantiated, it appears to me like this particular allegation is carrying more water simply because the community it is against happens to be on the fringes of society, which generally smacks of “lame” to me.

That being said, I had to remind myself today of where my sympathies should be. I think many religious folks are bat-shit nuts, and this sect appears to be especially heinous as they’re (if the allegations are true) using their faith to justify statutory rape and child molestation. I read that 400 teenage boys were recently excommunicated for various reasons. But the cynics are saying they were excommunicated simply because there isn’t enough women so that every adult male can have multiple males. If that’s true, jesus tits, I’ll save by breath and keep my concerns about them being treated differently to myself, save my do-gooder rants for a more worthy cause.

I’m sure there is a family somewhere in that compound that hasn’t broken any sexual assault laws, and it’s a shame that their kids got swept up in the whole mess because of all the other crap going on. But come on, if you wanted to avoid the potential of your kids being taken away by CPS, you probably should have chosen to live somewhere other than a polygamy compound owned by a group that, until last year, has been led by a dude who was on the FBI’s Ten Most Wanted List for activities related to being an accomplice to rape and sexual conduct with minors. What a winner.

I don't what I'm saying anymore. Anyways, yea, those people are nuts, and I'm going to continue following this story.

Jumping the Gun.

Clearly, I may have staked out my position too early in this campaign.

Shut Up & Get Me A Beer.

There was just a baby in the library. At one point, it sounded like it got dropped, and it started to cry loudly. The mother, in all her obvious wisdom, instead of taking the child outside, proceeded to walk through the book stacks and continue her search for whatever she was looking for (perhaps child support enforcement actions?). Then in order to calm the little fucker down, she gives it a toy. Not just any toy, a toy that makes noises, many different yet all annoying noises. I haven't had the urge to kick something so strong since I was at my last rock show and "out the jams" was what I was kicking.

Tonight is a birthday party. The theme is "your favorite drink." I am apathetic about this theme. I was going to go easy-out route and just wear one of my whisky shirts. My friend suggested I go as whisky dick: "Dude, just wear the shirt and be a real big asshole to everyone, they'll get it eventually."

That's actually usually what I do when I drink too much whisky anyways, and a night of serious drinking almost always ends up in me being ostensibly useless to a bird, except for making out. I am a make out slut.

Law School Rankings.

Well, my school slipped off the top 100 in the US and World News Rankings last month. Saaaweet.

Law school rankings are like emotionally unavailable birds. When you're rationally thinking about it, you know they're no good. You know they are bound to bite you in the ass and disappoint you time and time again. Even after our high bar pass rate this year, our stellar reviews from the ABA, and our drastic improvement in the moot court competitions over the past couple of years, somehow these things don't add up to a strong reputation among the people who fill out those fucking surveys.

"Reputation" makes up 40% of a school's ranking. The most subjective factor is also the most important, that makes so much sense I think I'm gonna puke.

Presidential Elections Part 5 - The Conclusion.

So since I was out of town for most of the past week, I was unable to continue campaigning. I was still able to garner roughly 15% of the vote. For a Presidential run that didn't get off the boards until halfway through the first day of voting, on a ballot I wasn't even listed, in a school where too many people are too hippie to hate Canada, I'd say I did fairly well.

I've also had a few people notify that I actually offended some folks. Some at the whole concept of a mock campaign, and some because I mocked Canada. The complaint as reported to me, "If that was a Mexican flag being crossed out, people would be pissed." Well, it wasn't a Mexican flag. It was a Canadian flag. It's big, white, and boring. And right next to us. And I can't think of a more politically acceptable country to make fun of. Interestingly enough, for all these people I've heard about that have problems with me taking Canada to task, not a one has come to talk to me about it. I would relish the opportunity, but I imagine any Canadian sympathizer is too passive to actually have a confrontation.

Moot Court Back in Action.

So after all the chaos that was my regional moot court competition, the organizers decided to throw us a bone and invite us as an exhibition team. This meant we didn't get to actually compete, that we have to help bailiff other rounds, but that at least we got a trip to D.C. on the school's dime and it turns out we were the only American school to get an exhibition team invitation. I'm sure it has to do with how badly we felt shafted at regionals and this invitation was their way of trying to buy us off. Well, I have my price, and it is room, board, and a plane ticket.

Since we weren't actually competing anymore, I took the opportunity to get shit-housed a couple of times. My team "argued" against schools from Ethiopia, Mexico, and France. Our judges don't get told that we're only exhibition teams, so when they did find out, they were usually quite surprised that we weren't still in the competition.

The last night there, I ended up in a hotel room for a South American sausage fest. Chilean dudes, Argentinian dudes, Uruguayan dudes, 1 UK/French dude, me, and 2 of my female teammates. They were pieces of meat, I had the least attractive accent in the room. Our shuttle departed at 5 am, our flight was at 7:45. I was told I was getting "out of control." No teeth lost, no shirts torn, all luggage packed: win.

Presidential Elections Part 4.

After telling the Chief of the Sports and Entertainment Law Association that I was catching flack from The Machine about having so many posters up, he told me not to worry about it and to place the blame on him if any more shit came down the pipe. He told me he was originally planning on doing the same routine for some random 1L [which might have been hilarious if he would have picked someone with a low profile, something my penchant for whisky and flagrant comments precludes me from having around these parts], but when I told him of my mock anti-Canada campaign, he figured he'd run with it.

And he did not take kindly to the idea that the SBA would try to restrict his speech, or try to hold me accountable for his independent actions. I came out of the library and found this latest poster on the bulletin boards.



Well shit, if it wasn't on before, the Viceroy has officially been served.

By making fun of the process, I started something that has generated more interest in, and buzz about, the elections than they were ever able to muster on their own. I still think that's funny, but it's also sad and a bit of an indictment of how apathetic the student body here has become. And by paying attention to it, the SBA has only stoked the flames, should have just kept ignoring me.

Presidential Elections Part 3.

So the shit has hit the election fan. My joke, my comical quasi-not-really-if-you-read-the-fine-print campaign is taking on a life of its own, ruffling feathers, creating confusion, stoking a little bit of drama, and otherwise raising questions about the SBA Constitution and potentially eventually free speech.

I get to school today and the Sports and Entertainment Law guys had placed about 10-12 posters, all bearing my name, around the school.

The SBA election rules state that a candidate can only have 4 posters total, and that a candidate is responsible for all posters bearing his name. Even if a 3rd party put them up, you are responsible for those posters because that person became your agent upon using your name, and those posters count against your total. A violation of this rule is grounds for disqualification from the race.

Well, I don't know a whole lot about agency law, but I find it hard to believe that anyone can become my agent by merely putting my name on the damn poster. If that was the case, and I was actually running, I would (on the sly) tell someone to put up 100 posters with my opponent's name, rely on the plain and ordinary understanding of the election rules, and request they be disqualified.

In any event, Darth President and his Viceroy (otherwise known as the officially unopposed candidate) are none too pleased with the posters that were put up on my behalf because they lack the fine print language making clear that I'm not actually running for President. The Viceroy has made clear that the joke has gone too far, that he considers me "in the race" and that I need "to play by the rules." I tried convincing him that playing by "the rules" was only important if I actually was running, which I'm not. He's irritated, frustrated because people aren't taking the system serious and that at how my "campaign" is moving beyond my direct control.

I found the problem in the SBA Constitution just now. The Constitution provides that eligibility for office is based on gathering 25 student signatures and a letter of academic good standing from the Registrar, and submitting both forms to the President before the candidate registration due date. "Write in" candidates are allowed, but they must have satisfied all the form-requirements of a regular candidate, and submitted the forms to the President prior to the commencement of voting. This creates an opportunity for anyone who missed the first deadline to still be eligible for office, and still be allowed to campaign, but their name will not appear on the ballot.

So the big fuck-up of it all is that Darth President misapprehended the SBA Constitution and assumed "write ins" could be added to the ballot, regardless of whether that person had submitted the proper forms or not. When the first vote was cast, and no write-ins had submitted the proper forms, eligibility was set and it was pointless to include a write in section on the ballot. I am Constitutionally barred from holding an elected office on the SBA, so is anyone else not currently listed on the ballot. But because they have so clumsily handled it, I am operating in this strange limbo where it is not totally clear (to them or most anyone else) whether I am allowed to have posters up or not.

Furthermore, I'm still taking this lightly, all fun and games for me. But if push comes to shove, it's total bullshit if they try to restrict a 3rd party's political speech, regardless if they act in my name or not.

I recognize that all of this is, to a large extent, petty, inconsequential, obnoxious, and silly. But it really only became that when the SBA started taking the joke serious and failed to realize that my "campaign" can have absolutely no real impact on the outcome of the election.

Presidential Elections Part 2.

My campaign is picking up steam. I received an endorsement from a student group: the Sports and Entertainment Law Association. The group is comprised almost entirely of 3L guys from the kickball team I play on, but that matters not! They have chosen me to endorse. They are 100% behind my anti-Canada platform. In addition to sending out a message to their email list, their President has created this magnificent piece of material:



I told the heir apparent that if I manage to scrap together 10 votes, I'm declaring a moral victory. He told me if I manage to get 10% of the votes, he's no longer my friend. Leave it to a Canadian to get huffy-puffy about democracy in action.

Presidential Elections.

So SBA elections are going on now. Almost all of the positions are unopposed, save Vice President. While most of the position are inconsequential, SBA President actually packs some punch. Besides institutional powers such as appointing all Committee chairs, the President receives a big scholarship/tuition break. My friend is running unopposed for that spot, and he's a Canadian. Now I think he's running unopposed because most people either:

a) Don't care.
b) Don't think they can beat him.
c) Think he is the best person for the job.

I probably fall mostly into c). He gives a shit, he's competent, and he's been around the system for the past two years. That said, I was really disappointed that no one challenged him for the throne. In a ploy to exercise free speech, mock the system and the ridiculousness of so many unopposed positions, and to hopefully ruffle some feathers, I decided to run a mock campaign based solely on making fun of Canada. I have multiple posters that include a cross-out symbol of the Canadian flag, followed by a quote about or by Canadian, followed by my obnoxious and simple retorts.

Example: "Canadians do not like heroes, and so they do not have them."

~George Woodcock,

That would be followed by, "Have a hero! Vote for _____ for President." I have others, they're not much better.

And in order to prove to myself that people fail to read the fine print, the word "President" is followed by "ially appointed Social Chair" on every poster. So really, I'm not actually campaigning to be President, I already know my friend is going to appoint me to Social Chair, but I am looking to get a few votes just for shits and giggles.

Below is a poster another friend of mine made me, that I am going to hang up tomorrow. I am not going to put any words on it, and let the image speak for itself.