I just skated for 12 miles around the lakes, went grocery shopping, thrashed laundry around, walked the dogs…
…and earlier I scrubbed my kitchen. I’m about to tackle more laundry before cooking. That’s why this video is PERFECT:
I just skated for 12 miles around the lakes, went grocery shopping, thrashed laundry around, walked the dogs…
…and earlier I scrubbed my kitchen. I’m about to tackle more laundry before cooking. That’s why this video is PERFECT:
I heard banging for the past few hours and noticed that the apartment’s lights were on when I went outside with Gertrude, my Rottweiler.
I called the cops and requested to remain anonymous. The cops were already in the building when I got back inside.
I am upstairs. The Rottweiler hears the cops knock on the downstairs apartment as I unlock my door, so the Rottweiler DARTS DOWN THE STAIRS, RUNS PAST THE POLICE OFFICERS, AND RUNS INTO THE JUNKIES’ APARTMENT.
I am horrified.
So I run downstairs, Officer McDreamy is rolling his eyes like “What the fuck, where is this random Rottweiler coming from?!” and my Rottweiler has the pleasure of participating in a police raid.
I am then on the phone with my landlord when the officers shoo the dog back in the hallway. The Rottweiler is terrified because she doesn’t understand why everyone is screaming.
At least I was out of the hallway by the time they started bringing the former-neighbors out of the apartment.
The police officer said that the former-tenants are going to be brought to detox and held there for a few days. There are only a few problems:
I think I’m screwed.
The cafeteria cashiers at work are awesome.
Donna: “Only two bananas?”
Me: “Yep. I’m being healthy.”
Judd and I broke up this morning. He wants to move to the East Coast. I’m stuck in law school for another year. We decided it was better to be friends than to waste our time playing house until he moved. It’s like building your shack in an earthquake zone.
I’m at Dunn Brothers on Lake Street. I search the wireless networks and then start laughing uncontrollably:
The junkies living underneath me were evicted yesterday. The management company secretary said that booting the junkies out was a nightmare, and the building owner called and to apologize for ever renting to them.
The junkies made this semester rough. They screamed at all hours of the night, blocked and trashed the hallways, broke windows, and even fired a gun.
I’m hammering out my Family law outline when I find a snippet of Professor W among my notes:
Professor W: “It is your responsibility to tell me if you cannot hear me. My mic is not working. It doesn’t like me. It senses that I am afraid of it as a technical device and stops working just to test me. That’s just my imagination right?”
Get eight hours of sleep. Skipping on sleep is like not filling an empty gas tank because you are in a hurry. And unlike the silly driver, AAA can’t help a fried and sick law student.
You do not have time to battle acne, obesity, and caffeine withdrawal during finals. Plus, the fake-food is just going to drain your wallet and make you feel sluggish anyway. So go to the grocery store and stock up on your apples, peppers, bananas, nuts, cucumbers, & etc. Just don’t be “loud crunching guy” at the library or we will pelt you with oranges.
While inline skating around the lakes yesterday I happened upon an epic fail:
Apparently, the truck didn’t fit under the bridge. It wasn’t even close. And, as a sign of how law school ruins everything, my first thought was: “Oh that sucks because they so totally won’t be able to get unemployment benefits since they are getting fired for cause.”
And yes, that thought was so totally in Reese’s voice ala Legally Blonde.
The dog-guest of the week is Judd’s dachshund, Maya.
I am so glad that one of my coworkers is at Dunn Brothers tonight. Now I am not the only witness to the batshit-crazy going on the corner.
There is a bloated, 15-person group in the corner which looks like a book club. Tonight’s theme is “outsiders and specialness” and the conversation contains such gems as:
Middle Aged Lady: “Can I tell you guys something? When I was young I thought I was special. I thought was really special! I thought I was so special that I thought I would have a virgin birth! And it has taken me 55 years to realize I AM NOT SPECIAL. I AM NOT SPECIAL AT ALL!”
It is spring in Minneapolis…
It is Saturday night and Judd and I are on our way to the see “Kick Ass.” We stop at a light and try to avoid eye contact with the sign-holding beggar on the side of the road.
Beggar: “Yo brother from a different mother!”
Me: “Dad surely got around.”
Beggar: “Surely. Can you spare any money?”
Me: “Recession. I have no cash!”
Several readers have asked why I am not participating in a “best of blogging” competition for law student blogs. The answer is simple: the competition is a scam.
It works as follows:
NoName Legal Website (NLW) needs visitors. NLW has no credibility because it is a content aggregator and offers little (or no) original content. Snooze.
But NLW has a plan! Lawyers and Law students love competition and arbitrary rankings. Heck, all the law schools in the country tout their US News Ranking while simultaneously bitching about how ridiculous the rankings are.
So NLW creates its own rankings of the top law school bloggers. NLW informs the bloggers of their nominations through pingbacks and emails. The student bloggers mention the competition and link back to NLW. The new traffic helps NLW build a reputation and to compensate for its lack of original content.
NLW now has visitors without paying for advertising space.
Professor W: “What’s so wrong with swearing? The most wonderful word in the English language is that four letter word that begins with “f” and ends with “k.”
Professor A: “Someone asked me to record today’s class because they said they were sick. I couldn’t tell if they were sick-sick or just sick of class.”
Professor A: “Like everything else in the internal revenue code, this is misleading and needlessly complex…”
A bloated school day ended with a trip to Memory Lanes.
I love the Lake of the Isles neighborhoods but I need to stop taking pictures here. The residents probably think I’m casing their homes:
A rehab program rents the apartment underneath mine. This means that junkies camp out in the hallways and loom by the front door of the building until they are let in.
This also means that there is a lot of random screaming in the middle of the night.
Last night’s drunken screamfest was particularly vicious:
Judd and I went to Davanni’s Pizzeria in Uptown Minneapolis last night.
We walk into the pizzeria and there is a busty, middle-aged woman standing in front of the ordering counter near the door.
Busty looks upset and a little crazy, so of course she comes up and talks to us:
