Great Balls of Fire

Because we are the nation that made Bob Saget and his home videos popular . . .

I am going to post this little gem:

Yesterday morning, bright and early before the sun had peeked over the horizon, I headed up to the Law School to do some work on my student comment.

I slipped into my boxers, cargo khakis, & a red t-shirt. I then threw on a hat and jacket, poured a nice hot cup of coffee, and I was off.

Upon parking I set my coffee cup on the steering wheel and I turned to grab some borrowed DVDs I had in the back seat. Unfortunately, when doing so I also grabbed the wheel for leverage.

My cup fell over. I had the lid open.

It all drained right onto my crotch.

The pain. O, the pain . . .

Where is a McDonald's when you need them?

Hmm, or maybe I should've taken a picture like my friend, Ms. Woods, is fond of doing. Ha ha.

And yet, the soldier that I am, after running home and changing, (and doing some laundry) I went back up to the school and spent a mind numbing 9 hours trying to figure out what the hell the Supreme Court is doing with the Commerce Clause . . .

MiM on AiM

Don't forget, I can be reached on AOL through my AIM name:

MiM on AiM.

Have a nice day.

Two Friends: Pinky and The Brain

Congratulations to Genius Friend for his finishing his first semester at University of Houston law school.

And when I say "genius" in reference to him, I don't mean it in the same way I used it referring to myself and the MENSA requirements a couple weeks ago.

I mean, he's a real genius.

I've mentioned him before. He was a National Merit Scholar (i was only a "commended scholar" so la-di-freakin-da!) and was the captain of a winning academic decathalon team in high school. I assume he did well as an undergrad . . . then goes on to Baylor Medical where he gets his Ph.D. in, like, genetic engineering or something like that.

I think he helped cure some rare fatal disease or something like that . . . I don't know for sure.

Then in the midst of preparing his doctoral thesis he applies to law school . . .

Why after the Ph.D. does he want to go to law school?

Because now he gets to do what he really likes. WTF?!

So I was thinking last night. If I hadn't kept up with him since high school, and just ran into him all of a sudden when home for Christmas . . . this is what the conversation would sound like:

Misery: Hey, [Genius Friend], how's it going?!

The Brain: Oh, good good. Wow, its been-what?- nearly 10 years now, huh?

Misery: Yeah! Wow! Funny running into you here in Hastings in little ole Lawton, Oklahoma! What are you up to?

The Brain: Oh, there is a new book out by this genius in molecular physics that I am having them order for me . . . of course they wouldn't have something like that here. He basically posits the theory that [blah blah blah blah . . .] What about you?

Misery: Uh. Uhm. My mom told me they had the "Brian" talking dashboard doll from Family Guy. And I already have the Stewie so I thought he could use some company . . .

The Brain: Excellent. Well, I hope you find it.

Misery: Thanks. So what have you been up to the last 10 years?

The Brain: Nothing much really. I finished college and was accepted to Baylor Medical. I moved to Houston. I worked on research to cure [rare fatal disease] and wrote a doctoral thesis examining the results of the research, which there is talk will be nominated for a Nobel. Then I got bored with that and decided to go to Law School and, well-- you know-- do what i really like. You might remember back in high school my plan to become President . . . well, this is a stepping stone. Oh, and I'm dating this very pretty blonde genius I met at Baylor, who I will marry and we can have genius kids like us. How about you? I'm sure you are a best-selling novelist by now, right? Still fighting the good fight? Travel the nation like Jack Kerouac and have your own Ph.d. by now . . . ?

Misery: Hmm. Not really. I, uh, actually . . . well, I spent the first couple-three years workin', drinkin', and screwin'. Then I had some religious vision and I became a preacher for a couple years. Then I became broke and destitute. Now I'm in law school so that, i guess, I can go back to the "workin', drinkin', and screwin'" thing . . . only, y'know, without the moral debauchery involved.

The Brain: Oh, wow . . . uh, a preacher, you say? Hmm, wow . . . Never would've guessed. Well . . . uh . . . I'm a Republican now.

Misery: Really?! Me too!!

The Brain: Really? Mr. ACLU a Republican?

Misery: Yeah. Kinda came with the whole "religious vision" thing.

The Brain: Peyote?

Misery: No thank you. Like i said, I'm a Republican now . . .

The Brain: No, i meant . . .

Misery: I know what you meant. Ha ha.

The Brain: Okay . . . well, then. It was nice seeing you again. Uh, keep in touch. Bye-bye now.

I'd better get back to work on my student comment. I really have a lot of catching up to do.

P.S. The conversation is not an accurate portrayal of Genius Friend and the comments and viewpoints expressed above are not those of Blogspot.com or the author of this blog. Liberties have been taken with the characters in order to, I hope, delay the boredom which pushed you so far as to tune in to this blog. Genius Friend is not a pompous ass as portrayed above and neither is it true that Republicans don't do things like taking peyote trips. Case in point, the guy who was running for Senate in Illinois but had to drop out when it was revealed he was into swinging and, of course, our President. I, on the other hand, am accurately portrayed. Have a good day!

Class, where is Flick? Has anyone seen Flick?

Okay, so I haven't written anything in a couple weeks. I'm on vacation.

And I got Seasons 1-3 of The Family Guy . . .

And a dashboard Stewie doll that talks. My favorite phrase would have to be, "Mark my words. When you least expect it your uppance will come!"

But can anyone tell me . . . the wife and I had a disagreement.

I thought the theme song said:

"Lucky there's a man who positively can do all the things that make us . . . "

And then Stewie says: "Effin Cry."

But she says Stewie says "Laugh and Cry."

I can understand thinking it is the latter. It would make sense. But this is Stewie we're talking about.

I've slowed it down on my computer and I still swear he's saying "effen".

Oh well, back to watching Family Guy.

We got my mom a book on wine and a couple bottles. When we're there next week we're going to have a "wine tasting." Isn't that just another way to get drunk but feel sophisticated at the same time?

I'm not sure why she's getting into this wine connoisseur thing.

Maybe she realizes she's got one son about to finish law school.

And another who was promised he'd have a 300k/year job within 3 years.

And she's getting ready to live the good life.

All the same, she deserves it.

Bring It On, Wayne Brady!

Woo hoo!! I am done with finals! Does that now make me 1/2 a lawyer???

Hmm, Ms. Woods??

Oh, and thanks to Russ at Barely Legal . . . I've discovered that because of my LSAT score I, too, qualify for genius status.

I am a genius?

That makes the designation seem so cheap and easy. I feel dirty now.

Recent Conversation

Mr. Misery: Congratulations on being selected as a tutor for Prof. So-and-So. That's impressive.

2L: Thanks. You were too.

Mr. Misery: Yeah, for [insert 1L class].

Other 2L: I didn't think you could be a tutor 2 semesters in a row.

Mr. Misery: Oh. I think they're desperate. There aren't too many people willing to field phone calls from neurotic 1Ls asking impossible hypotheticals at 2 a.m. during finals week.

2L: [astonished] You have to do that?!

Mr. Misery: No. I told them 2 weeks out not to bother me anymore. And I sent their questions to the professor.

Other 2L: What did the professor say?

Mr. Misery: Not to bother him either.

2L: So I'm tutoring [such-and-such] class. Do you think I still need my book, or can I sell it?

Mr. Misery: Do you know the stuff?

2L: No. But neither do they . . . so who's going to know the difference?

Mr. Misery: True. Too true.

Dreamweaver . . .

Does anyone out there have a degree in psychology? Because I could use a little counseling.

Or maybe you have a dream interpreter book. That would work, too.

Two nights ago I quit law school to become an actor (a former desire of mine) and I ended up a bad comedian playing in a tent in an amusement park.

Last night my dreams started off with me going to a dark theatre . . .

(I'd been reading about "fixtures" for Secured Transactions and the example of theatre seats was used. So maybe that explains why I was in a dark theatre. Who knows?)

But as I'm walking up this dark staircase, some guy comes up behind me and puts a blade at my back & wants me to get undressed. Without thinking, I pull out my pocket knife and stick him in the side. He falls, I tie him up, and then I leave him there bleeding while I call the police.

Then it gets real weird.

I completely flip. I kill a prostitute with the same pocket knife. I escape home and prepare for the war against the dinosaurs.

(I know! Dinosaurs?!)

So, while I'm telling my family I'll protect them against the Raptors at the door, I'm lighting cherry bombs and bottle rockets and shooting them at the creatures trying to get in.

But then I realize the dinosaurs are police. I've had a psychotic break and the police -- with the help of my traitorous family -- finally subdue me and I'm taken off to a mental institution.

Next thing I know, I've recovered. And I am living on the coast somewhere. Near a big prestigious school. And I am buying a floating cabana.

There are lots of floating cabanas. Mostly filled with retirees. And I'm running for mayor of the floating city of cabanas. (Hmm, could this be Del Bocca Vista, Phase 3?)

I just keep worrying that my history of psychotic violence doesn't become an issue in the campaign.

And there is someone named Kidd Hodgett. I think he was a former pirate that helped found the school. In any case he built a secret passageway through which I liked to go.

Does anyone know a Kidd Hodgett??

And why am I having such strange dreams?

Maybe Law School does more than just make you boring . . .

I think it is making me crazy, too.

That's My Idea of Funny

I woke up this morning and, unfortunately, I remembered what part of dreamland I'd visited just seconds before . . .

I was a stand-comedian. Working in an amusement park. I had quit law school upon the success of a small up-start play we took all the way to Broadway . . .

And I ended up a stand-up comedian. In an amusement park.

What's worst is that my hook involved me drinking and stumbling around the stage.

Wasn't that seriously played out in the '60s and 70s? (Sorry, Deano.)

I woke up after realizing my booze was all gone just before one of my performances. I sought out the only employee I could find, behind the cash register in the souvenir shop. And I demanded the return of my alcohol.

"I'm not funny without it," I told her.

"Yeah, that's apparent," she replied, "but who are you?"

"Who am I? Who AM I? I am Mr. Misery!! My face is on the t-shirts you sell! My name is on the tent!!!"

My name is on the tent.

I really should get back to studying for Secured Transactions, don't you think?


(And by the way, the only person I saw buy a t-shirt was my mother. Figures. A face only a mother can love, right?)

Who Goes to Law School to Be Poor???

A comment was made regarding yesterday's sell-out of a posting . . . that I sound like a whore.

I won't dispute this.

However, as I pointed out to the lovely Ms. Woods . . .

Look around you. You are in Law School. You are surrounded by whores.

I mean, who goes to law school to be poor?

Don't our Ethics courses teach about the burden of representing clients with which we disagree? We will research their positions, fashion the best arguments possible, and (oh so) many times those positions will rarely comport with ours.

And then we get paid.

We stood before a judge. We made an argument. We don't believe.

And we get paid.

And what is even better -- we have an affirmative ethical obligation to do so!!

Isn't the Law grand?!?!

(P.S. I am still selling my soul for money to pay the bills. So you can continue to visit the links to the side there and check out my stuff.)

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Dilemma

With a final exam in Criminal Procedure yesterday, I actually had to study the material.

Going through the possible Fourth Amendment, Fifth Amendment, Sixth Amendment, and Fourteenth Amendment violations that can be perpetrated on a defendant . . .

Made me think about this.

If you had a good friend tried and convicted of murder;

And you were convinced he probably is guilty in some way, shape, or form;

But you recognized that he'd also suffered from ineffective assistance of counsel, a denial of Sixth Amendment right to counsel on an appeal of right, due process violations from an obviously coerced confession, and quite possibly a Fifth Amendment violation to boot. . .

And he was an indigent 15-year-old when this all occurred.

Would YOU feel some affirmative ethical obligation, after getting your J.D., to try and take up his case . . . to get him a new trial?

And so I have to ask--

If an individual commits murder, has he not denied the most basic right imaginable to another? So who is he to complain about the violation of his rights protected by the Constitution?

Right?

Or, well, rather . . . what kind of "justice" system would we have were we to give free reign to a group of individuals that can hide behind a badge in their denial of rights, regardless of the victim . . . ?

Damn, I'm sounding like such a bleeding heart.

I just can't stop having these dreams . . .

Gee-I-See

Okay. So I realized I may not be entirely correct regarding my last post.

As with any rule, there is always bound to be an exception, and it is this:

A person who would aspire to the E-i-C position of the Law Review of a top ranked Law School, no matter how he paints himself, can neither be a slacker nor a gifted underachiever.

I don't care how he paints himself.

And he writes one of the best blawgs out there. Ask him for advice.

A Blawger's Advice . . .

Legally Blonde and Mike at Barely Legal are both reporting readers frantically asking for advice on how to: (i) get in to law school; and, (ii) succeed in law school.

I applaud their attempts at giving advice. I especially give it up for Elle and her honesty .

There are two types of blawging Law Student, so far as I can tell:

1. The slacker.*

The slacker understands that you don't need to get A's to get your J.D. And once we're all on the other side, grades are just something desperate people brag about. Look at someone like Mark Lanier-- the man has made HUNDREDS of Millions of dollars as a tort lawyer. He is listed as a Texas SuperLawyer. He is one of the top tort lawyers in the nation. He failed Torts.

The slacker blogs because he can't get away with drinking during class.

2. The gifted underachiever.*

The gifted underachiever found college to be easy; high school was a joke. Law School can be somewhat of a challenge but he's not motivated enough to spend too much time studying. And even if he was, it would take work to actually learn how to study. Sure, he can get A's, but they aren't usually attributable to any real effort-- well, at least not "real effort" when compared to his classmates.

The gifted underachiever blogs because he knows he should be studying, but this is much more fun.

Otherwise, if you aren't one of these people . . . you are probably studying and NOT wasting your time posting crap on the internet.

Seriously, do you realize how much thought goes into some of the posts you read on the better blawgs?

Now ask yourself: Do I really want advice on how to study from them?

The answer should probably be "no."


*Of course, it goes without saying that slackers could also be gifted overachievers and vice versa.

As seems the trend, I have now created an AIM name, too.

So holler at me under the name MiM on AiM.

My Oversight

I was "tagged" by The Namby Pamby a few weeks ago but have never had the chance to respond. At this point I don't even have the e-mail he sent.

But I have finally added his link to the side there -->

So if you get a chance, check him out. The conversations overheard by this guy . . . they'd make me blush.

But really that's not saying much.

I Heard He Got the Clap

If we are going to take the time to hand out applause to every professor, regardless of his or her performance . . .

The least they could do is collect their notes and books in a reasonably speedy manner and quickly exit the room.

I hate that awkward moment when everyone has decided the 30 seconds of clapping is enough . . . and the professor is just leaving the lectern.

But we have our coping mechanisms--

Stare at the desk and pretend he is no longer there.

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Mr. Misery Is Going to Washington

"Liberty's too precious a thing to be buried in books . . . Men should hold it up in front of them every single day of their lives and say: I'm free to think and to speak. My ancestors couldn't, I can, and my children will. Boys ought to grow up remembering that."

No. I am not an idealist in the vein of Mr. Smith.

In fact, I don't believe any "Mr. Smith"s actually exist. In 1994, perhaps, we had some. They marched to D.C. after an upset election and stood on the steps of the Capitol building . . .

And over 10 years developed a political leadership just as corrupt--if not more corrupt--than any that have come before.

. . . And yet I can retain some degree of innocence and awe.

While no one can change the attitude in Washington, neither does anyone have the ability to destroy what D.C. symbolizes.

This is why I have always wanted to see the capital.

No one will know me while I'm there. No one will miss me when I'm gone. But that's alright.

After all,

It is not what I bring with me when I arrive; it is what I take away when I leave.

Only in the movies can Mr. Smith destroy the "Taylor Machine" with a head-on, fists-clenched attack. And only when the cause is a liberal one.

The people like myself are painted as evil because--shhh--we're conser. . .

So I'll go work for the Washington Legal Foundation for 6 weeks, and I'll devote myself to legal research and writing. Maybe what I write will have an impact on someone.

Who knows! But I'll have fun.

"You think I'm licked. You all think I'm licked. Well, I'm not licked. And I'm going to stay right here and fight for this lost cause. Even if the room gets filled with lies like these, and the Taylors and all their armies come marching into this place."