Ein Toast

To the end of zee semester. Fuck you. If I could, I would burn you to death with tiny fires. You have tormented me in the most hideous manners imaginable...even blog-people would not understand. Here's to you and my eternal quest to torture and murder you in your sleep.

Brief addendum:

On second thought, murdering you in your sleep might not be sufficiently satisfying. I need to flay you with the sharpened edges of my secured transactions book and papercuts from Prof. Tree Dweller's horrendously deceptive Enviro I exam.

Recruiting Volunteers: Stress Relief Through Absurdity and Humor

That last post might have been a bit premature. I'm working on a new photo-blogging series about anything that screws with big businesses in random ways.

First project:
1. collect Business Reply Mail envelopes from ANYwhere
2. Mail anything you want to get rid of back to the large corporation of your choice...assuming you can fit it into a standard envelope.
3. The entire point is to pin the cost of these mailings on these companies using the most ridiculous things you can dig out of your closet.
4. Write at least three standard English letters together and in sequence on something inside the envelope. For example, I might write "GF" on a piece of notebook paper that goes in the envelope.
5. READ PART #4 AT THE END OF THIS POST

Yes, it's been done before. Trillions of adolescents have probably used this as a subconscious tool for rebellion, all the while chuckling to themselves like weasels about how clever they were. While I am indeed chuckling like a weasel, I don't find it terribly clever anymore since I just gained a renewed interest in it via this quote from www.bash.org. Honestly, who gives a shit? I'm also going to call OUR rebellion "Driving Up the Cost of Sending Junk Mail: An Externality on YOU from the Minds of Idiots." I'm also naming the rebellion "I like random shit people do for no apparent reason, Or Would You Kindly Get a Sense of the Absurd."

My official title in the rebellion shall be "Grand Field Marshal Mail Ninja." I may be addressed as "Marshal," "Sir," or "Comrade." Or Guy Fawkes, whatever.

Anyone interested? Trust me, this can be an effective outlet for some of that school/work/family/life stress that's on most of us. Just forget who you are right now and do something ridiculous


Better yet, POST SOME OTHER "PROJECT" IDEAS. Just brain-dump some comments with absurd things you've always wanted to do in ANY context, legal or illegal. This includes stabbing me in the face over the Internet.









Disclaimer:
4. DO NOT MAIL/SHIP ANYTHING THAT COULD EVEN CONCEIVABLY BE DANGEROUS. This also means do not send any illegal materials, whether or not they are dangerous while in the package. Unlike the failed revolution in which Guy Fawkes participated, nothing from this fun little distraction should cause ANY type of destruction.

I'm not saying this just to cover my ass. I mean it, internet peoplez. The idea here is to have fun and mock the American financial system (economy in general?...whatever you want to mock...mock mock mock). No one gets physically injured or even put in harm's way for any reason. For some helpful info on what NOT to send, here are a couple of links:

USPS Info RE: Hazardous Materials
USPS Aviation Mail Guidelines

The Aviation Mail Guidelines also contain links to the most current USPS guidelines on most other safety areas. Also, if your mail goes out through a method other than USPS...make sure you AT LEAST follow the USPS Safety Guidelines and anything additional your carrier requires.

Gen. MacArthur as a 3L: Articulating A Departure from the Phillippines

I've lost my motivation to blog anything lately. I think the swing-and-miss with the kangaroo video finally broke my blogging will. I even have an extensive backlog of Prof. Tree Hugger quotes, including one in which we bantered about Jurassic Fight Club (the History Channel show) in classic 3L/apathetic prof. fashion. Phaedrus and I also played the primary roles in what has become known as "The Legend of the Horseman's Smashing Pumpkin" around our class.

Blogging here just isn't giving me the outlet I need anymore. Perhaps I will share more amusing anecdotes in the future, but I'm not going to personally try to keep The War alive. Such are the ways of the 3L.

Insomnia...

I have gotten a total of one hour of sleep in the past 48 hours, yet I am wide awake with no signs of slowing down. Therefore, here is a cat-related picture:



Quick, someone fill in the logic between the two sentences above the pie-eating feline.

A Fucking Rankings Post

The law school gods want my soul, and they're pretty close to getting it. Class rankings were just released, and I again raised my GPA by a substantial amount that allowed me to move up several spots in the class. Unfortunately, our class yet again lost JUST ENOUGH people from the bottom of the class to keep me from crossing over that ever-elusive top-X% cutoff I've been chasing since my first law school grades were released. This cutoff will string me along until final grades are released next spring, leaving me precisely one spot outside the cutoff.

I fucking give up. Fuck grades, fuck rankings, fuck the gamesmanship of letter grade avoidance, fuck job searching, fuck employment, fuck "T14" (whatever that really means) elitists, fuck law school, fuck the legal profession in general. What the fuck does it fucking take to move up in this system? How valid can an evaluation system really be when the evaluation criteria are complete bullshit and on top of that, there is no possible upward mobility?

Perhaps the answer to this problem is to game the system like most of the people ranked above me do. Fuck all these substantive classes, I'm going to look up the classes with the highest possible grade distributions and exclusively take those! After I get the ranking I want, I'll take non-graded classes and judicial externships so I can keep my GPA artificially inflated, thereby making it impossible for anyone to overtake me! I see the light at the end of the tunnel...it's the brilliant flash from the energy released when the law school gods finally sever my soul from my body and make me one of their minions.