George W. Bush

I don't generally like to talk about politics unless and until I'm in the mood to raise my blood pressure to dangerous levels. Since I've had a migraine all day, I'm not going to get into the Bush tax cuts that only benefit the people who need money the least. Nor am I going to discuss the No Child Left Behind Act, which, as we all know, leaves children and even entire schools behind everyday. Nope, definitely don't want to talk about the destruction of civil liberties that was the Patriot Act or his indifference to the suffering of the poor following Hurricane Katrina or his blatant lies to the American people regarding the "involvement" of Saddam Hussein in 9/11 or, good Lord, I'm going to have a stroke.

But I don't have to talk about these things to discuss why I hate the Dubya so much. There's so much about him as a person, not even as a President, that I dislike.
First, he's a moron. I once heard someone say that if he's the President, he MUST be smart. Wrong. I definitely believe he plays up his "Ole Slowhand McIdiot" routine so that the average American will say, "Now, here's a guy that's almost as dumb as me. Elect him, by golly, he's so much less boring than the other one, Al BORE (see how clever and quick-witted the average American is?!)." However, you have to have attained a certain level of legitimate dim-wittedness to feel ok saying something like "Do you have blacks, too?" to the Brazilian President, or "You teach a child to read, and he or her will be able to pass a literacy test" at a press conference.
Newsflash, America: Dubya's idiocy is not lovable or endearing. It does not make him a "real" guy, and it certainly doesn't make him a statesman. Maybe I'm just being high-minded, but I would like my President to have a least a vague grasp on pronouns and the way in which we use them in the English language. Do you know why? Because he is the leader of the most powerful nation in the free world! And we can't try get rid of the little shit for at least four years, unless, of course, he gets a blow job from a chubby woman.

I guess I am "misunderestimating" him a bit, though. I mean, after all, he may not be that smart, but he's still President material, right? Oh wait, no, he's not, just watch him speak. Whenever I'm feeling particularly masochistic, I'll watch a Bush press conference. The subject could be any number of very serious topics. Without fail, though, he stands there at his little podium with a shit-eating grin on his face. If I ever meet the big W, ya know, at a bar or something, the first and only question I will ask him will be "WHAT IS SO GODDAMN FUNNY?!" That's usually what I scream at the television, anyway. But seriously, what is it, exactly, that he's so entertained by? Yes, George, isn't it just hilarious that the U.S. death toll in Iraq has topped 4,000? And doesn't it just tickle you pink that North Korea has begun testing its nuclear arsenal? Oh, George, what a side-splitting story about the mortgage crisis!
Someone should tell Georgie Boy that, even if you're so wealthy, powerful, and out-of-touch that you don't have to worry about war casualties or recessions, you would do well to feign interest in these subjects when talking to the American people. And, even if you're so indifferent that faking interest is too burdensome, at least suppress the urge to grin like an ape.

Ok, I can't talk about Dubya anymore or I won't survive until morning. OBAMA RULES!

Old People

The other day, I just needed to run into the grocery to get one thing. So, my boyfriend (we'll call him E) dropped me off at the door and proceeded to park in a spot in the lot outside the grocery to wait for me. While I was gone, an old man emerged from his shopping trip and got into the car directly across from where E was parked. Soon thereafter, E heard a honk. He looked up and, sure enough, it was the old man, honking at him to back out of the parking spot so that the old man could pull through instead of backing up. Naturally, E found this to be absurd and ignored him. But this persistent octogenarian would not be ignored! He continued to honk and stare until E finally (and incredulously) gave in and backed out of the spot! The man pulled through and drove away. This story perfectly exemplifies my beef with old people.

Apparently the slow crawl towards death makes old people feel superior to others. They do whatever the hell they want without any explanation. They cut in front of you in lines and don't even look at you while they're doing it! And there's nothing anyone can do about it because who wants to be that asshole that yelled at the old person? I'm convinced half of them fake feebleness and dementia just to get away with shit. But who can blame them? It certainly works. Even my stubborn boyfriend was no match for the powers of old people. The old man is his story probably would have sat there all day honking at him before he would allow some young "buck" to make him back up from a parking spot when he could easily pull through. As long as he got home before his 4:00 dinner, his life wouldn't have been affected in the least.
In hindsight, it was probably best to make his exit from the grocery as easy as possible because we all know how terrible old people are at driving. At what age do you forget that turns are to be made from turn lanes not from whatever f-ing lane you're in? Someone should do a scientific study on this. And why exactly does being old make you drive so slow? I've racked my brain, and I simply can't explain it. I would think that if the sand was close to running out of the hourglass for me, I would always be in a hurry! Especially if I was heading to Wendy's for lunch, which of course I would be because all old people love Wendy's. Don't believe me? Next time you drive by one, count how many blue hairs you see inside enjoying a delicious baked potato. If it's not at least 4, you should alert the authorities because something must have happened to all the old folks in your town.

And then, of course, there's the conversations. Old people have NO filter...true to form, they say whatever they want whenever they want. Please recall my earlier story about the old women discussing diarrhea loudly in a waiting room. Often, they'll talk out loud to nobody in particular. This is especially awkward for us young-folk, who usually feel obligated to pretend listen while desperately hoping beyond hope that the person will forget what they were saying and give up. There is an elderly gentleman in my law school class (no, really), and I don't even want to get into the kinds of conversations he has in class. And they occur at the volume level of a sonic boom because he clearly has some sort of hearing loss/indifference to how loud even his whispers are.

Though I dread getting older, I am excited to reach an age where I can do anything I want without impediments. I plan on sending back every item of food I get at resturant, making people as uncomfortable as possible by discussing bodily functions on all buses and airplanes, and "forgetting" how to work my cell phone so that nobody can ever call me again. It will be great!

Law School

Law school is, without a doubt, the worst thing I have ever experienced. I think I had more fun when I had dry socket after getting my wisdom teeth ripped out...at least then I got take Oxycontin.
Anyway, last year (year one of hell), I stayed up until 3 a.m. during finals writing this rap instead of studying. I'm a pretty productive person.
I can't lie, the idea was based on a video I saw on You Tube that also utilized the sweet beats of "This is Why I'm Hot" and was also entitled "This is Why You Suck." It was dedicated to Duke Basketball, however. It's a quality video that I would put on here too if I felt like trying to find it. Duke sucks.
I am not about to create a video of myself doing this rap...this would be an awkward experience for everyone involved. However, I did just find the lyrics in my saved documents while looking for my resume, and I wanted to share them with the 4 people that read this blog! So, you can put on a little show for your family and friends by rapping the lyrics yourself while playing the Mims video, enclosed herein.

Ok, well, here goes.



This is Why You Suck, Law School
Chorus:
This is why you suck
This is why you suck
This is why, this is why, this is why you suck.
You make my life hell, and that's why you suck.
This is why, this is why, this why you suck.

This is why you suck.
I don’t got a chance.
I can get a C doing everything I can.
I’ve never felt so dumb.
I think I’m gonna crack.
And I think that I’ve lost it
I’ll never get it back.
I try to get property,
The RAP is whack.
My head it starts to bounce.
As soon as I do the math.
But in the Civ Pro
Geyh loves to take it slow.
But even when I read,
I don’t know what I do not know.
And if you need to study
There’s no time anyway
From torts to Con Law
We have it ereyday.
He called on me just now
It takes my breath away
I’m in that law hell
I’ll never forget today
And when I wanna die
People they wonder why
They ask me aren’t you smart they tell me I’m fine
They ask me why I think I won’t survive.
They ask me why I do it and simply I reply

This is why you suck.
People here are nuts.
Every other one
Another bitch, another putz.
16 tools, 24 dorks.
44 jerks, IU gimme what you got.
I’m tryin to think I’m smart
And now I know I’m not
And they’ll remind me daily that they know a lot.
If you need advice, you’ll get all they got.
Tell them what you need, you know they even think they’re hot.
I call ma homie Kar, meet me at the bucks.
I hit that place cause the people there don’t suck.
I stay far from the school.
See that place is such a drag.
Find me at different places, where there are not all douchebags.
For those who say they know me, know I’d rather go unseen.
Because I’d never know how to rub noses with the dean.
I know it seems mean, jealous is how I seem
But when I say it sucks, my dear friend, this is what I mean.

This is why you suck.
Don’t think I forgot
Ask me what I paid and I say yeah I paid a lot.
And then I’m taking loans, that I know I should not.
Cause when I graduate, I’ll forget all I was taught.
So hop in my car
I’ll tell you all about
There’s workers here all day, they make the studying so hard.
They hammer all day and take up lot’s of space.
But every time I see em I wish I could take their place.
And why’s it so hard
To try to plug your cord, underneath the desk
And then you hit your head, which makes you hit the kid, sits next to you
So when you come back up the whole row stops and stares
Then we all get bored, the profs get ignored
Little do they know I’m reading message boards
I sent an IM, nobody hit reply.
So I play Bubbles, Cause I got that fire.