Franz Pincer, The Stool
As exams loom in the too-near distance over the heads of Mitchell students, this Stool staffer wants to tell whoever keeps busting ass in the Lexis Lab to knock it off. Seriously. This is my domain, people. There are only a few short weeks between now and exams and I don’t want to be made to choke a bitch.
For some of us, these weeks are the final countdown of a very protracted sentence of torture and tiny plagues. Law School is a veritable fun-house of afflictions and hatred, which are only exacerbated by the foul funk of someone else’s fanny fumes. Cut the cheese again, and I might cut your miserable 2L life short, pal. I mean it. I am close to the edge.
For many 3Ls and sad 4Ls this is a time of merriment and derision. As we watch the 1L’s contort with pain and anxiety over the shitstorm that awaits them in the form of a Torts final; witness their shock and fear at learning there will be a BlueBook exam over break, we laugh with horrible glee at their hurting. Because we are now immune. At this point, law school is a bore and studying optional.
So, ass-clown, put an end to the toot machine working in your rear end so I can go back to enjoying myself without a gas mask. I have a long paper to start and finish in three days, and it’s tough to type when my eyes are watering. Really, seriously, Gas-X or go home fartpig.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
3L can’t wait to give Dorsey & Whitney soul
Hans Olo, The Stool
The lure of money and much tie-wearing was filling the mind of 3L Bob Cousins last week. “I can’t wait to start work,” said Cousins of his newly-accepted position at the highly-respected law firm. “I’m going to be the best junior associate that place has ever seen. I’m going to work hard and make a difference.”
Unfortunately for Cousins, reality is waiting for him – and many like him – with a large, jagged cleaver with which it will circumcise Cousins’ soul from his body like wool from a sheep. “Oh yes, we’re always happy to get junior associates” said one Whitney employee. “They practically beg to be shit on. It’s like going into the army – we break them, and then we mold them into a machine. In this case, a billing machine devoid of conscience or social life.”
“Hey that sounds good to me,” said Cousins. “I have so much loan debt I’d be willing to lick a partner’s taint if it meant getting a job. Really, I’ll do it. Wait, what’s a taint?”
While many law students are chewed up and spit out by Whitney like so much bubble gum, some have made it an entire year, and are most eagerly awaiting a new crop of associates. “I’m going to obliterate them when they get here,” said hollow-eyed ’08 Mitchell alum Jen Pulver. “I’ve slept here so many nights… help me. I need help –“ Suddenly, klaxons began blaring and a large man in a black suit appeared in Pulver’s office doorway. We were told to leave immediately as the man flicked at the needle of a large syringe he produced from an inside coat pocket.
The lure of money and much tie-wearing was filling the mind of 3L Bob Cousins last week. “I can’t wait to start work,” said Cousins of his newly-accepted position at the highly-respected law firm. “I’m going to be the best junior associate that place has ever seen. I’m going to work hard and make a difference.”
Unfortunately for Cousins, reality is waiting for him – and many like him – with a large, jagged cleaver with which it will circumcise Cousins’ soul from his body like wool from a sheep. “Oh yes, we’re always happy to get junior associates” said one Whitney employee. “They practically beg to be shit on. It’s like going into the army – we break them, and then we mold them into a machine. In this case, a billing machine devoid of conscience or social life.”
“Hey that sounds good to me,” said Cousins. “I have so much loan debt I’d be willing to lick a partner’s taint if it meant getting a job. Really, I’ll do it. Wait, what’s a taint?”
While many law students are chewed up and spit out by Whitney like so much bubble gum, some have made it an entire year, and are most eagerly awaiting a new crop of associates. “I’m going to obliterate them when they get here,” said hollow-eyed ’08 Mitchell alum Jen Pulver. “I’ve slept here so many nights… help me. I need help –“ Suddenly, klaxons began blaring and a large man in a black suit appeared in Pulver’s office doorway. We were told to leave immediately as the man flicked at the needle of a large syringe he produced from an inside coat pocket.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
4th tier school showcases 4th tier registration system
Hans Olo, The Stool
As registration has once again descended on the students of William Mitchell, age-old questions concerning the college’s ancient and impotent registration system have again bubbled to the service.
“All I want is a clock,” said 2L Nancy Schneider after wrestling with the system for the third time in her law school career. “Why do they not put a clock on the registration page so everyone knows how long it’ll be until they can register? I probably hit the ‘back’ button on my computer like 40 times, then finally it let me start registering.”
A registrar representative, who declined to be named, told The Stool that a clock would simply be too much work for an already overloaded tech department to handle. “Students don’t really need a clock anyway,” continued the source. “Can’t they just hit ‘refresh’ or something? I’m sorry, you need to leave – this sudoku puzzle isn’t going to solve itself.”
On the whole, students felt cheated, bitter, drained, and belittled by their registration experience. “This system looks and acts like it was built by college freshmen for a group project in their Technology Today class,” said 3L Michael Karoski. “Here’s an amazing idea – how about a way to ‘save’ classes that you’re interested in taking so you don’t have to SCROLL THROUGH THE ENTIRE FUCKING LIST every time you want to add a class. Or – miracle of miracles – show how full a class is getting as registration goes on? Holy shit! That’s a-fucking-mazing!”
Seizing on these, and other obvious ideas culled from the student body, The Stool presented an itemized list of improvements that could easily be made to the registration system in a joint meeting of the technology department and the registrar’s office. After the short list had been read, each participant stared ahead as if in a daze. Eventually the silence was broken when a registrar representative told us “what then hell are [students] going to do about it? Those bitches can eat a bag of baby dicks and like it! Give me that tuition money and shut the FUCK up.”
As registration has once again descended on the students of William Mitchell, age-old questions concerning the college’s ancient and impotent registration system have again bubbled to the service.
“All I want is a clock,” said 2L Nancy Schneider after wrestling with the system for the third time in her law school career. “Why do they not put a clock on the registration page so everyone knows how long it’ll be until they can register? I probably hit the ‘back’ button on my computer like 40 times, then finally it let me start registering.”
A registrar representative, who declined to be named, told The Stool that a clock would simply be too much work for an already overloaded tech department to handle. “Students don’t really need a clock anyway,” continued the source. “Can’t they just hit ‘refresh’ or something? I’m sorry, you need to leave – this sudoku puzzle isn’t going to solve itself.”
On the whole, students felt cheated, bitter, drained, and belittled by their registration experience. “This system looks and acts like it was built by college freshmen for a group project in their Technology Today class,” said 3L Michael Karoski. “Here’s an amazing idea – how about a way to ‘save’ classes that you’re interested in taking so you don’t have to SCROLL THROUGH THE ENTIRE FUCKING LIST every time you want to add a class. Or – miracle of miracles – show how full a class is getting as registration goes on? Holy shit! That’s a-fucking-mazing!”
Seizing on these, and other obvious ideas culled from the student body, The Stool presented an itemized list of improvements that could easily be made to the registration system in a joint meeting of the technology department and the registrar’s office. After the short list had been read, each participant stared ahead as if in a daze. Eventually the silence was broken when a registrar representative told us “what then hell are [students] going to do about it? Those bitches can eat a bag of baby dicks and like it! Give me that tuition money and shut the FUCK up.”
2L super stressed about bar exam
Hans Olo, The Stool
Fran Merkel, a Mitchell 2L worked herself into a tizzy last week when she spoke with a 3L acquaintance about the work involved in preparing for the bar exam. “I need to start studying now. Oh my god. I can’t breathe. I don’t even know anything about criminal law yet! How am I going to pass the bar exam if I don’t know about criminal law?”
Although Merkel eventually was able to bring herself under control, the school told us they prefer students to focus on the bar exam. “The bar exam is a very important goal for each student to have in her or her sights,” said the director of student affairs. “It keeps them in a perpetual state of semi-fear that makes them more pliant to our whims and wishes. Case in point – the PLP requirement.”
Fran Merkel, a Mitchell 2L worked herself into a tizzy last week when she spoke with a 3L acquaintance about the work involved in preparing for the bar exam. “I need to start studying now. Oh my god. I can’t breathe. I don’t even know anything about criminal law yet! How am I going to pass the bar exam if I don’t know about criminal law?”
Although Merkel eventually was able to bring herself under control, the school told us they prefer students to focus on the bar exam. “The bar exam is a very important goal for each student to have in her or her sights,” said the director of student affairs. “It keeps them in a perpetual state of semi-fear that makes them more pliant to our whims and wishes. Case in point – the PLP requirement.”
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