The Law School Transplant » the Boston Terrorists

(Boston) Terrorists One Step Closer to World Domination

Law School Transplant — Wed, 08 Nov 2006 15:27:00 +0000

On Saturday, the Terrorists and I, Steph from the Terrorist message board and Daisy, Mer and my furry niece and nephew, along with my dad and Triple D, participated in Walk 4 PAWS, a fundraiser for a local organization that provides low-cost spays and neuters for animals in the local area.

Too bad they don’t spay and neuter fratties and sorostitutes.

Here are some photographic highlights:

T. Min. says, “Get the camera out of my face and kindly fuck off.”

Terrorists ready to roll:

T. Max and his new girlfriend, Daisy. Too bad T. Max no longer has his man-bits:

Triple D, fascinated by something shiny, no doubt:

Triple D checking out his shrunekn doppelganger:

Don’t mind us. We’re just taking over your neighborhood:

Marching towards world domination. Be very afraid:

Special Note: Thanks to my dad’s friend Jim for the awesome pictures!

It’s Almost That Time of Year Again

Law School Transplant — Sat, 12 Aug 2006 04:15:00 +0000

It’s officially almost football season. Yes, my beloved team kicks off against some crappy, non-conference opponent who they are certain to whip soundly a mere THREE WEEKS from today. I’m so excited, I can already smell the barbeque and Brunswick Stew!

To commemorate, a Southern Baptism:

I mean, could anything be cuter? The Terrorists, of course, would beg to differ:

They are certainly little attention whores.

When I Do It, I Do It In Style.

Law School Transplant — Tue, 09 May 2006 18:52:00 +0000

So, instead of writing papers, I’m blogging. Because as far as I’m concerned, my Con Law II exam yesterday marked the end of my semester (or so I’m telling myself). What’s a couple of papers? I mean, it can’t be that hard to write 50 pages in 2 weeks. Right? Right??

One of my nails came off yesterday during my Con Law II exam. Do y’all know how hard it is to type 70 words a minute about equal protection and the 14th Amendment enforcement powers with a missing nail, people? Do you? I will certainly blame my poor performance on the exam on this unfortunate cosmotological failure. I refuse to go out in public until my friends down at Happy Express Super Nail on Prince can squeeze me in for a quick fix.

T. Min. lost a tooth this morning, which distressed me a lot. The vet school couldn’t get him in until Monday, by which time I’ll be busy law clerkin’ it up down in the ATL, which means I have to find a vet down there to look at him. I don’t trust the shady fuckers I have taken him to down there before. At least not where T. Min.’s dental health is concerned, and especially when they have to put him out to check him out and clean his teeth (he’s feisty like his mom).

In any case, T. Min. told me that he’s looking foward to spending the summer in Atlanta. He’s already packed his bags and is more than ready to go.

I asked T. Max. if he would like to spend the summer with his dad. He seemed pretty excited about staying with the Beef and doing guy things. Maybe he is trying to tell me something.

So I’m going to keep on not writing by going over to Ann Taylor Loft to buy me some lawyer-ish clothes. After all, I’m gonna be a real law clerk this summer, y’all!

Mmmmm…. Shiiiiiny.

Law School Transplant — Wed, 26 Apr 2006 04:11:00 +0000

The stress of finals and my run of bad luck has been getting to me. So, no better way to beat the end-of-semester blues than to engage in a little retail therapy.

There is no way I am going to pay $85 for a set of speaker mounts, so I just have to wait to set it all up until I can get to Lowe’s and spend $5 on the stuff to make my own. Here’s hoping my grandfather passed on at least an iota of his handiness.

I found this neat little dog cabana at Target, so I picked one up for the Terrorists. T. Max. is skeptical; he thinks it’s just an oversized frisbee.

Au contraire, T. Max. Behold: El Cabana de los Terroristos. T. Min. is checking out the new digs, while simultaneously imagining that it’s actually set up on the beach somewhere. It’s okay to dream, T. Min.

That’s about all for now. Funny how depleting my bank account is just soooo theraputic. Now I really have to finish my Evidence outline.

Why Does It Always Rain on Me?

Law School Transplant — Tue, 25 Apr 2006 05:02:00 +0000

Needless to say, the last couple of weeks have been a big disappointment. First came the news that I was waitlisted for the Oxford semester abroad. I came to terms with it and mostly decided that I didn’t want to live in the dorms again and take classes with the same 20 people all the time, anyways. Defiant indifference is always a good defense mechanism, right?

I turned myself towards other pursuits. Like taking a class in the Jounalism School on mass communication law. After jumping through endless hoops and navigating through a jungle of red tape with patience and a smile, my petition was summarily rejected. Now, pray tell, why would an arguably relevant class like mass comm law be denied, when I know for a fact that others have had such absurdities as Spanish Film classes approved. Spanish Film classes?

I resigned myself to taking media law in the law school, and applied to TA an undergraduate business law class for next year. After being one of four people (out of ten applicants) interviewed for two positions, I found out tonight that – lo and behold – I didn’t get the job. Big fucking surprise, the way my luck has been going lately.

Which got me to thinking about karma. I mean, I must have done something disastrously horrible to warrant such a string of shitty luck. Did I unwittingly knock an old lady over in the middle of the street? Should I have given that homeless guy my leftovers instead of taking them home to eat later? Was it really that bad to bind and gag the annoying 1L who wouldn’t shut up in the reading room?

Terrorist Minimus lets me know that he doesn’t much care:

In other news, today I discovered that the tips of T. Min.’s ears touch when he yawns. Fascinating.

Terrorist Maximus appears to be comiserating with me, but I think he’s just dejected about not getting to go to the P-A-R-K today.

So much for expecting sympathy from the animals who push me out of bed, steal the best spot on the couch, pee on the bathroom rug and insist on watching Animal Planet when I really want to watch Sex and the City reruns, even though I’ve seen every episode at least twice.

I’m going to bed now. At least nothing bad can happen to me there.