You want to let me eat your muffin

Another student asked me once how I manage to keep up a blog. The answer is that sometimes I just don't do my work. They also seem to have been under the impression that it takes me a lot of time to write these posts. It doesn't. I can bitch at a moment's notice. It's a talent I have. I don't question it; it's like the old saying goes: don't look a gift horse in the ass. Or something like that.

Lately it seems I have so much to do all I can seem to get done is playing computer games. This is not going to help come finals or during the trial competition but what do you want? I'm only human, and humans will get to the point where the pile of shit is so big they just decide to live with it. Take the Bush administration, for instance. These fuckers have shoveled so much shit it seems a lot of Americans have mistaken the pile for a mountain and planted a flag on top. For the record, I have tried waving a flag at my pile of shit and guess what? It didn't make that pile go away or smell any better, either.

I have recently (I am slow.) developed an appreciation for Star Wars movies and it occurs to me that this administration, the Siths, know Jedi mind tricks. You know the ones; the Jedi says "you want to let me eat your muffin" and the other guy says "I want to let you eat my muffin!" This is the only explanation I can find. See how it works: "We need to take away your civil liberties!" "You need to take my civil liberties!" "We can throw people in jail and let them rot for years without even seeing a lawyer! "You can throw people in jail and let them rot.. ." well, you get the picture. Now, where are the Jedis to fight off the Siths? In jail being held as enemy combatants of course, duh! Doesn't it all fit nicely? This is my theory. Don't question it, it's America and we don't question shit anymore.

Oh crap - who is knocking on my door? Oh no, it's the secret service!! What? No, I'm not an enemy combatant! What? Yes I am, you say? Why? You're rounding up all the law students before we figure out how to get Bush impeached? But I don't even do my work! Look at me, I'm updating my blog when I have two papers coming due! I'm no law student! Uh...uh... you want to let me eat your muffin! You want to let me eat your muffin! Sigh...I hope the weather in Cuba is nice this time of year . . . I wonder if they have muffins?

germs and the job search

I spent the last two days at the Equal Justice Works Career Fair and Conference in DC, which one of my friends referred to as the hippie law conference. There were a lot of really cool offices - only a couple of firms (no surprises there!) at tables in long rows in these huge rooms and free coffee and like 800 kids in suits waiting in lines to explain why they should be the next great do gooder. I have come to realize that some people are really crappy at giving interviews. Here's a tip to interviewers: fucking look at the person. Typing is not interviewing.

I have also come to realize that even at the hippie law conference, you have to be competitive in very weird ways, and that looking for a job raises some real questions about your values. For instance, I had a terrible cold and had to think through whether or not to shake hands with people. So, here was a question that said more about me than all the hypos and requests to explain my career change: am I do gooder enough to make an interview awkward in order to reduce the spread of a cold? Answer: hell no, I'm trying to get a job here. However, I am a do gooder enough to wash up before planned interviews so I'm probably not spreading germs I wouldn't have spread by breathing anyway. Make what you want of that. Or, I could tell you what class I've found the most challenging or bullshit you about some crap you seem to want to hear about. At any rate, it was a better experience than my last trip to D.C., which you can check out in the June archives titled something like 'fuck D.C.'. And if anyone sneezing reads this, dude, I'm sorry. Hire me and I swear I'll make it up to you. I'm the next to the next great do gooder. Really.

Here's to Fluffy-headed boy

Sometimes I am glad life is short. Most of the time I wish it were longer, or at least that I hadn't flat out wasted so much of mine, but sometimes it is good that life is short because there are some people who just don't need to be around annoying the rest of us but for so long. Last week my con law professor, bless her heart (see: post on southern translation if you are not southern) opened up discussion to what people think of the current supreme court. She's new there so I'll give her a break. Immediately, argumentative boy pipes up and says if the court is going to hear arguments about gay marraige, they should hear about polygamy. I wish someone would point out that, generally, gay people only want to marry ONE person each. Idiot. Then fluffy headed boy, as we shall call him for his ridiculous mop of curly hair often topped off by a Bush supporting hat, says if they are going to let gay people get married they should let dogs get married. I am really glad I didn't hear that and only heard about it later or I would have had to point out that he looks a lot more like a dog than my girlfriend does. Soon the fucknuts piped up in support of torturing prisoners accused of terrorism - correctly or not. Wonder how they'd like to be tortured. These are human beings, folks, and there are so many political arguments against torture even if you are too much of a shithead to realize that torturing people is WRONG that I won't get into them here. Anyway. Fluffy head is one of these fucknuts. I had two friends on each side, both of whom are fine human beings, try to bring the conversation down but once you let an idiot loose, it's really hard to stop him, as the 'presidency' of Bush will evidence. I managed to swallow my bile and point out that every man in the room has contract rights with his girlfriend I don't have with mine and tie this into the reading, which took superhuman effort and goes to show that yoga and meditation really do work.

Fluffy headed boy is perhaps a victim of someone or something, though, as further evidenced by the fact that he's been told that polo shirts with the collar turned up aren't stupid looking, and it's October and he's still in flip flops and god knows, someone needs to give that boy a haircut; maybe his brain just isn't getting enough oxygen. But one, who would marry a jackass with a flipped up pink polo collar and two, if he ever manages to get a girl drunk enough to even sleep with him, what difference would it make what kind of rights I have with my girlfriend, who sleeps with me sober? Most straight people get divorced; tons of guys beat their wives; tons of people cheat on their spouses; how is my stopping by the justice of the peace with my girl possibly going to make their lives any worse? Here's to fluffy headed boy and his idiotic pink collar: he's ignorant, but his kind certainly know how to wreck things for the rest of us. Go, Fluffy!