Thursday, September 27, 2007

Surrounded by idiots

Text to criminal procedure classmate: Better think twice about eating a french fry on the DC subway if you're a 12-year old girl. The Supreme Court will let them lock your ass up

Response: Thurgood Marshall must have just banged his head against the wall for hours every day after work

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Young co-ed or toothless heroin junkie? A tough choice

While there are several problems with the fact that this story below even happened, I'll start with this: hey, dingus--in case you didn't get this memo in your orientation packet, YOU'RE A DIVISION-I QUARTERBACK AT THE BIGGEST SCHOOL IN THE COUNTRY. I think you just might be able to find a few campus floozies to give up the goods on any given night... Just a thought.

OSU's Henton charged with soliciting prostitute

Columbus, Ohio — Ohio State backup quarterback Antonio Henton pleaded not guilty to a misdemeanor charge of soliciting for prostitution in Franklin County Municipal Court Tuesday.

Henton, 20, was arrested at 8:27 p.m. Monday on High Street near the school's campus after offering an undercover Columbus police officer $20 for intercourse, according to a police complaint.

He was carrying just $19 at the time of his arrest.

That last line is great.

But this episode is just the latest layer off the onion in what has become a perplexing epidemic in our society. For the life of me I will never ever understand athletes and other famous people. Many of you famous people have accomplished virtually nothing in life (See e.g. Lindsay Lohan, reality tv stars, Kevin Federline) yet you dolts are followed and fawned over. You have zillions of dollars. You could be ass-ugly and it wouldn't matter (if you don't believe me, just take a look at these guys):

nevertheless there would be a considerable amount of people with no self-respect who would jump ass-first in front of a scud missle just for the chance to get you in the sack.

And instead, what do some of you fools prefer to do? You go to the nastiest of neighborhoods and troll for $20 hookers. At least do what the Republican politicians do (when they aren't lecherously stalking young male aides or soliciting manlove in an airport crapper) and go through the high society madams and get the "classy" broads.

And for crying the muck out loud--STOP DRIVING!!! Leave the drunken driving arrests to teenagers and the law students who can't afford cabs. Why are you even driving in the first place when you have enough money to construct your own personal public transportation system? You should be doing the only thing you know how to do: sitting in a tinted-out stretch something drinking Grey Goose and snorting gator tails of blow with your entourage of coattail-riding peons. I know I would!*

*Dear potential employer: I really wouldn't.

Thursday, September 20, 2007

Moron/Piece of Shit of the Week

and I don't even really like cats, but what an absolute degenerate.
Police: D[R]acula man fed live cats to dog

A man in Gwinnett County captured kittens to feed live to his pit bull, investigators said Thursday.

Sheriff's deputies charged 21-year-old Tye Hilmo Thursday with aggravated cruelty to animals, said Stacey Bourbonnais, spokeswoman for the Gwinnett County Sheriff's Department.

They acted after receiving a tip that Hilmo had been catching neighborhood cats and kittens for his dog to kill, she said. "It's sick," she said. "It's indescribable and sick that people would do this kind of thing to and with animals."

Aggravated cruelty to animals is a felony that carries a sentence of one to five years in prison and/or a fine of up to $15,000.

A tipster said Hilmo, of Dacula, had been using the dog for dogfighting purposes, Bourbonnais said. Despite finding scars on the pit bull, she said, investigators did not have enough evidence to charge Hilmo with dogfighting. Hilmo denied the dog fighting accusation, Bourbonnais said.

Investigators retrieved a particularly graphic image from Hilmo's cell phone, Bourbonnais said — a picture appearing to show a dog chewing a kitten above a caption that reads, "Good dog."
Investigators found the bodies of mutilated kittens at Hilmo's home, Bourbonnais said.

Deputies arrested Hilmo on Sept. 10 after serving a search warrant, Bourbonnais said. They found two pounds of marijuana and seized several firearms including a sawed-off shotgun while investigating the cruelty allegations.

Hilmo was initially charged with unlawful possession of a firearm, possession of dangerous drugs, possession of a weapon during the commission of a crime and violation of probation, possession with intent to distribute and one misdemeanor count of possession of marijuana. Deputies also seized $826 in cash from his residence.

On Thursday, deputies added the animal-cruelty charge. He was being held without bond in the Gwinnett County Jail.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Interview Douche

Interview season is upon us, and with it the golden opportunity for conceited douchebags aplenty to sign up for every single firm that comes to campus--even ones they have no intention of joining if selected--solely because it will give them increased chances to wear a suit to school and thereby tell everybody "hey, guess what... yeah, that's right... I'm interviewing today."

Now of course everybody competes and wants to get an interview. That's a natural part of the process. But some of these firms are pretty selective about class standing, which is why it's superbly obnoxious when somebody who interviews with all the fancy firms decides to apply for interview spots with the much less selective firms which he or she knows with 110% certainty they have zero interest in accepting a summer offer from. So several interview spots are wasted; meanwhile the other 80-85% of students, who would all love a job from that firm, are excluded from interviewing because these elitist slawbags* want to use the smaller firm spots as practice for their "real" interviews.

*If you're unsure who these people are, look no further than the dipshit actually using a "Big, Rich & Pretentious, LLP" koozy at school. A particularly douchy classmate of mine had one forcibly stretched around a lukewarm 20-oz Coke on the first day back from summer.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Ezekiel, you play right midfield--Judas, you're in goal

This evening I received a yellow card for an obscenity-laden tirade during an intramural soccer game versus the Baptist Student Union.

It began with a horrendous call (after the keeper slid in front of me and I cut inside towards the goal, he grabbed my legs and wouldn't let go, and, unable to move my legs, I eventually fell on top of him. Inexplicably the Baptists were awarded the free kick), at which point I announced my general disapproval to anyone within shouting distance. The goalie rolled around on the ground for a bit, and I once again articulated my disfavor. This elicited a response from the Baptist bench, who quickly bound together, man and woman united (behold the rib!), and began to assail me with such crushing verbal missiles as "why don't you just quit shouting and play the game!" and "yeah, you just hush!" Now I was just downright irritated and removed my gentlemanly verbal filter, letting loose the aforementioned profane retort. Judging by the looks on their faces I'd wager dollars to doughnuts that those poor bastards had never even heard half the words that shot out of my mouth, and I think they would have preferred to keep it that way.

Somewhere in between "[fornicate] off" and "[Jiminy freaking Christmas]" I casually mentioned to anyone who happened to be listening that I found the referee's opinion of what had just transpired inside the penalty box to be "pure [equine feces]," and I subsequently received my official reprimand.

Five years ago I may have done something stupid (on field or off) to my competitors in retaliation. Eight years ago I definitely would have. Thankfully though, the experience and wisdom of old age have taught me to behave otherwise (well, after I cuss and scream at least), and I actually made a point of making amends with the Baptists and the refs afterwards. It is, after all, as one staunch Baptist supporter proclaimed during my soliloquy, "just a game."

The call really was a load of horse shit though.

Friday, September 7, 2007

To those law students also in the job race

Has anyone (2Ls or 3Ls) had any experience cold-mailing resumes and cover letters? Everyone keeps telling me this is a necessary complement (even though responses are generally meager) to the job search process, but it seems like a huge waste of time.

I have somehow managed to dupe a few firms into giving me an interview, so I'll see how that goes...

Tuesday, September 4, 2007

Whatcha drinkin?

from the good people at Wesblog...

Like your clothes, your job, or your strict adherence to Megan's Law, the cocktail you order at your local bar/restaurant/key party tells people a great deal about your personality. “What does it say, exactly?” you're probably wondering. Nothing good, we promise you. Use this handy guide to determine what kind of message you want your drink order to send to that overweight, sexless Target employee you're hoping to bump uglies with tonight.

And remember, kids: Drink as much as you can, as fast as you can.


Probable Hobby: Looking at yourself in the mirror for long periods of time, then going directly back to the gym.

What Your Drink Says: “I'm totally just out with my girlfriends right now, totally just dancing and having fun, but tomorrow, I will totally weep quietly at brunch through my Dolce & Gabbana sunglasses as I repeat the phrase, ‘so cute' as may times as I can.”


Probable Hobby: Very literally, having sex on beaches.

What Your Drink Says: “I am [between the ages of 18 and 20/40 and 45], and I order drinks with provocative names because I haven't experienced sex [ever/in a while]. I am under the mistaken belief that potential sexual partners will [be turned on/take pity on me] upon hearing the word ‘sex' in conjunction with my drink order. I am [very/extremely/mind bogglingly] lonely.”


Probable Hobby: Standing next to German cars that aren't yours, having fake cell phone conversations about the strength of your nonexistent portfolio, and carrying around a tennis racket you have no intention of ever using on a court.

What Your Drink Says: “Ah, yes. Gore Vidal. The Masters. Mercedes-Benz. Ha, ha! What's that, old chap? You dare accuse me of stringing together random words associated with the upper class? I went to Yale School, you rapscallion!”


Probable Hobby: You may be employed at Applebee's, but you also enjoy hanging out there with your other single, high school-educated friends in their mid-30s after your shift's over.

What Your Drink Says:“ I don't actually like drinking, I just like the idea of drinking. Similar, in other words, to my feelings for that new guy I'm blowing.”


Probable Hobby: Buying important-looking books at Barnes & Noble, placing them on your bookshelf, never reading them.

What Your Drink Says: “Not only do I think I'm better than you and therefore too good to drink anything other than this '98 Pinot at a crowded sports bar, but I would also prefer it if you and your $2 shirt would quietly eat your JalapeƱo Poppers and return to the middle-class suburb from whence you came.”


Probable Hobby: Attending outdoor summer concerts of ass-awful, washed-up bands like Van Halen and REO Speedwagon. Also, you wear jean shorts there.

What Your Drink Says: “I don't have any issues with drinking during the day or experimenting with bizarre sex positions.”


Probable Hobby: Drinking heavily as early in the morning as possible. Also, drinking cold soup out of a glass.

What Your Drink Says: “I have trouble sitting through late breakfasts and early lunches with other people on account of my crippling dependence on alcohol. Luckily tomato juice-based drinks exist that allow me to get shitfaced as early in the morning as possible.”


Probable Hobby: Reckless behavior that endangers yourself and others, and is therefore hilarious.

What Your Drink Says: “So, wait—you're saying that my date-rape conviction is a turn-off? Come on, that was, like, four months ago. I'm real different now, baby. Hey, hey, hey—where do you think you're going in such a hurry?”


Probable Hobby: Looking for change in your couch, watching porn, using pay phones.

What Your Drink Says: “My career is going exceptionally well. So well, if fact, that I've made the move from ramen noodles to spaghetti with butter. Can I offer you a handful of these unsalted generic-brand peanuts, m'lady?”


Probable Hobby: Tip-frosting parties with your Men's Health-reading buddies from ab class, pointing at people with gun-hands while you dance to Justin Timberlake music, explaining why you totally didn't want to bang that skank anyway.

What Your Drink Says: “My penis doesn't function correctly, and I believe, against all evidence available to me, that 50 Cent is a talented and versatile musical artist.”


Probable Hobby: Punching people in the face.

What Your Drink Says: “Man, I could really punch someone in the face right about now.”


Probable Hobby: Going to the bar, getting so ass-faced that the mere sight of a beer will bring your dinner back with a vengeance. Also of note: you have a great deal of self-control when it comes to choosing sexual partners.

What Your Drink Says: “Wait, wait, wait. I'm gonna puke. Seriously, I'm gonna fucking puke… [Unintelligible] … Ugh… hold on, hold on. Lemme talk. That girl/guy with the face rash is kinda hot.”


Probable Hobby: Being awesome.

What Your Drink Says: “I rock.”