Bananas go to law school, too!


Long memo due in five days. Awesome. And objectively, this assignment might not seem to be such a, how do you say…., bitch. Back in the day, I used to scoff at the concept of a 10-page paper and load myself of red bull and coffee in CLARC starting at 2am before it was due. Unfortunately, such work ethic doesn't fly in "law school" and I, and everyone else, has been working on it non-stop for the past week or so. Of course, that would be fine except for Finals, Job Search and Class. All four balls I cannot juggle and I find myself having baby-freak-outs every now and then. But everyone else is on the S.S. Law School so I best stop complaining and buckle down.

Even though complaining is Fun, Helpful and Most Good.

I talked to Jenni last night, who is getting ready for her third knee surgery is far too short of a time. All because of a Freak Rugby Accident in our ill-conceived and much-maligned stint as world-class rugby players. Which, for me, lasted one day and, for Jenni, lasted for all of one play. Where she came down and tore her ACL. BEFORE signing the University liability release policy.

As Jenni was lying on the ground, writhing in paid, He Who Shall Remain Nameless (shut up, I like being dramatic. And I am afforded such dramatic license, what with this being MY BLOG and all), runs over, pen in hand, and has her sign the liability release form before attending to her knee that had been forcibly torn from her ligaments. Unfortunately, the statute of limitations for torting his ass will run by the time that Jenni & I graduate law school. Even though that would SO be the best thing ever. I kid. I kid. I kid. And that means you, Mike (not twinnie) NEED NOT run and tell H.W.S.R.N. that I am spewing venom on my ridiculous blog about him. Because I kid, I kid. But sometimes venom needs spewing.