I listen to Pandora at work, and I’m pretty good at ignoring the advertisments, but this Glee photoshop disaster caught my eye.
Click the image for a closer view of this messitude:
I listen to Pandora at work, and I’m pretty good at ignoring the advertisments, but this Glee photoshop disaster caught my eye.
Click the image for a closer view of this messitude:
Yesterday was the last day of orientation. It was only a half-day and the 1Ls were very grateful.
During the last session with our 1L section, we made sure to drive home the three main rules for law school:
…and hopefully some of those stick. I think they are ready for this Jelly.
The 1Ls were stuck in lecture sessions for most of the morning, so the orientation leaders just sat around, chatted, and stared at the Mondalelisa, which is the glamor shot of Walter Mondale in the law school entrance.
Mondale always seems to stare right at you, and his smile becomes a sneer after a while.
Creepy.
After orientation I went to work, and ended the night watching Machete with Alesus.
Today was a slightly shorter day of orientation. The 1Ls are still good troopers, but it was a personally frustrating day for some orientation leaders because we were constantly undermined by presenters:
On homework:
Orientation Leaders: “You’ll get your assignments on Friday, don’t worry about them now.”
10 minutes later:
Professor: “Read pages 1-5, 7-20, 30-36. Read EVERY WORD of the first case. It’s mostly Latin…”
On Professors:
1L: “I read on Rate My Professor that Professor Palsgraff is a horrible person who can’t teach and tortures bunnies. Is that true?!”
Orientation Leaders: “Well, everyone has different learning styles and everyone’s favorite professor is someone else’s least favorite. And although Professor Palsgraff may not be the most energetic speaker, she is at the top of her field, dedicated to her students, and surely only kicks the bunnies who deserve it.”
10 minutes later:
Student Speaker: “Oh and I heard you had Palsgraff for one of your classes! HAH! Lemme tell ya – you won’t learn SQUAT from Palsgraff, she’s a horrible teacher and wrings bunnies’ necks till the light leaves their eyes…”
Today was the second day of orientation training. Orientation starts tomorrow, and I’ll be posted at the front doors greeting the new 1Ls at 7:30am.
And I think I’m getting sick. Bahumbug.
The most amusing part of orientation training is that we have to febreeze the classrooms:
I recently became the foursquare mayor of the Minneapolis Popeyes Chicken. I love that place. I go there every time I order a mouthful of buttery-biscuit goodness with a side of stereotypes.
The best thing about the Lake Street Popeyes is its signage:
I am sprawled on the bathroom floor. Blood is everywhere.
The “no mess” mouse trap that I bought is in fact, very messy. Sure, I cannot see the dead mouse in the trap’s chamber, but the trap is swimming in a pool of blood.
The trap is strategically placed under my bath tub, so I have to crawl on the floor to wipe up the pool of stinky mouse blood. Ick.
Cleaning was the theme of the week. My apartment got the complete pre-semester scrub. I changed the vase water, washed sheets and clothes, and shampooed the carpets.
I also scrubbed my kitchen, replaced tiles, and finally hauled in the tumblers that collected in my trunk during the semester:
I got an email a few days ago from my school:
UMN: “Hay! We received your FAFSA but you totally need to do entrance counseling for your loan. NO CRUSHING DEBT MONEY FOR YOU UNTIL YOU DO THIS!
Get on it, Snickerdoodle.
Toodles.”
So I moseyed down to the Department of Education website and completed their entrance counseling. This is the first time I’ve had to do entrance counseling, which is a series of pages that say “Hey, you really need to repay your loan or we’ll shank you!” followed by short questionnaires:
Nick suggested that if I ever did drag, that I should perform Janelle Monae’s “Cold War.” That song is alright, but this is my drag top 10:
I spent most of my summers in Germany growing up. My grandparents frequently took me to Holland for my birthday, but one year we went to Nordfriesland, which is near the border of Denmark.
One thing that irked me about Denmark is that many of the houses had roof-tile siding, as if the roof melted over the second floor. It was unspeakably hideous.
So I got flashbacks when I ran into this house, near my favorite Dunn Brothers:
A little water-cooler gossip…
Jill: “So Jack is dating Britney now?”
Me: “Yep.”
Jill: “Which one is Britney again?”
I saw a huge photoshop fail while waiting in line at the grocery store today.
Whose body did they paste her on?
Since I already interrupted my normal post schedule of law school, dog shit, and Lake Calhoun, I’ll address one more topic…
I usually share viral foolishness over on facebook and twitter, but I’m going to comment on two things.
1. A Christian’s view of Fag Hags.
This parody article is laughably bad, for example:
“The more time a girl spends with her homosexual friends, the more she will fall under the influence of their habits and mannerisms. She might pick up homosexual fashions and dress mannishly.”
And,
So the worst part is that the first version of this billboard featured a heavily made-up woman.
This blog needs a redesign. I have more unfinished laundry than a women’s penitentiary. My bike, rollerblades, and gym shoes feel neglected.
I am one check-in from becoming mayor of McDonald’s. (My love handles don’t lie.) My progress on my album is underwhelming. And, and and.
