Virginia Lupus, The Stool
During the final weeks of class this spring, 2L Martin Krzyzskeis found himself in the throes of a jam session only he could hear. “I was sitting in that room with all the leather chairs studying, listening to my iPod, when this song came on that I really like,” explained Krzyzskeis. “I turned it up, and the next thing I know, I’m…well…I’m really getting down to the song.”
The song – “Save the Last Trance for Me” by Paul Oakenfold – seemed to catch Krzyzskeis at exactly the right moment. “I started bobbing my head a little to the beat with my eyes closed, but as the song went on I really got into it. I started nodding my head hard and even pumping my fist and biting my lower lip towards the end. I guess I was hoping people would ask me what I was listening to so I could share, but it didn’t really end up that way.”
Krzyzskeis’s performance had an effect, but certainly not the one he was looking for. “I was sitting down there when I saw this guy starting to go crazy,” recounted 2L Leslie Paxisl. “His eyes were closed and it looked like he was about to have an orgasm in his pants or something. It was really, really creepy. My friends and I got our stuff and left we were so embarrassed for him.”
“It’s one of those things you can’t take back and you can’t live down,” Krzyzskeis told us. “If I could take it back, I would. The looks on people’s faces around the room when I looked up was awful. If they weren’t whispering to each other and giggling, they were avoiding eye contact with me. Why did I do that?! I’m such an idiot!”
Krzyzskeis may not live down his grand performance, and it serves as a strong reminder to all of us that acting like a buffoon in public in general – and at school in particular – is often a harbinger of unflattering nicknames and social isolation. Beware.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Summer students quick to point out they’ll graduate sooner than everyone else
Hans Olo, The Stool
With summer break in full swing for most Mitchell students, those taking summer classes feel confident and crafty in their decision to eschew time off in favor of academic expediency. “Those poor bastards,” said 3L-to-be Tyler Parrish. “They’re going to be slaving away for an entire semester longer than I will. I’ll be laughing my ass off at them as I study for the Bar exam.”
Those who elect to stay away from the classroom for the summer seem unperturbed by the thought of finishing their degree requirements at the regular time. “I don’t know,” 2L-to-be Anne Keinie told us. “I guess they can do what they want, but burning yourself out to finish a few months early seems pretty absurd to me.”
When confronted with this line of reasoning, many summer-goers offered to “throw down” with those that disagree with them. “We’ll see how they change their song when they’re sweating out their long papers while I…am not,” said 3L-to-be Betsy Swanson. “Nobody puts Baby in a corner!”
With summer break in full swing for most Mitchell students, those taking summer classes feel confident and crafty in their decision to eschew time off in favor of academic expediency. “Those poor bastards,” said 3L-to-be Tyler Parrish. “They’re going to be slaving away for an entire semester longer than I will. I’ll be laughing my ass off at them as I study for the Bar exam.”
Those who elect to stay away from the classroom for the summer seem unperturbed by the thought of finishing their degree requirements at the regular time. “I don’t know,” 2L-to-be Anne Keinie told us. “I guess they can do what they want, but burning yourself out to finish a few months early seems pretty absurd to me.”
When confronted with this line of reasoning, many summer-goers offered to “throw down” with those that disagree with them. “We’ll see how they change their song when they’re sweating out their long papers while I…am not,” said 3L-to-be Betsy Swanson. “Nobody puts Baby in a corner!”
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Mitchell financial aid coordinator insists Jet Ski not a gift
Nina Rosenthal, The Stool
The William Mitchell financial aid coordinator, Madge Thurston, insists the Jet Ski that appeared at her Eagan home last Tuesday is not a gift from a financial aid provider. “I’ve been looking at getting a personal watercraft for some time now,” said a visibly agitated Thurston. “My husband must have decided to surprise me.”
The problem with that, as The Stool pointed out, is Ms. Thurston is not married. “What business it that of yours?!” shrieked Thurston. “My private life is none of your affair!”
Other disturbing facts began surfacing after a bit of investigation. First, Thurston lives on the fourth floor of the Lemay Lakes Apartments. Second, she has an inner-ear condition that prohibits her from swimming. Third, painted on the side of the Jet Ski is a message that reads, ‘Thank you from all of us at Access Group’ with Access Group logos prominently displayed on both sides. When confronted with this information Thurston threaten to call the police if we didn’t leave the property. She was then reminded that both her Jet Ski and we were on the public sidewalk. Thurston then threw an orange at us and ran away.
Battery charges against Thurston are pending.
The William Mitchell financial aid coordinator, Madge Thurston, insists the Jet Ski that appeared at her Eagan home last Tuesday is not a gift from a financial aid provider. “I’ve been looking at getting a personal watercraft for some time now,” said a visibly agitated Thurston. “My husband must have decided to surprise me.”
The problem with that, as The Stool pointed out, is Ms. Thurston is not married. “What business it that of yours?!” shrieked Thurston. “My private life is none of your affair!”
Other disturbing facts began surfacing after a bit of investigation. First, Thurston lives on the fourth floor of the Lemay Lakes Apartments. Second, she has an inner-ear condition that prohibits her from swimming. Third, painted on the side of the Jet Ski is a message that reads, ‘Thank you from all of us at Access Group’ with Access Group logos prominently displayed on both sides. When confronted with this information Thurston threaten to call the police if we didn’t leave the property. She was then reminded that both her Jet Ski and we were on the public sidewalk. Thurston then threw an orange at us and ran away.
Battery charges against Thurston are pending.
Lawyers concerned for lawyers membership swells as finals end
Hans Olo, The Stool
With finals over and libations liberated, Mitchell students have been sewing their drunken oats on Twin Cities streets – much to the chagrin of Lawyers Concerned for Lawyers. “We know it’s fun to go out and celebrate the end of the school year with friends, but when celebration turns to abuse we get concerned,” said Chester Gonzolez, the Mitchell chapter chair of LCFL. “We just want to urge students and faculty to enjoy being with friends in moderation, and most importantly, make good decisions around driving while intoxicated.”
“When I got pinched for public drunkeness the night after my torts final, the first thing I thought about was my Bar application,” 2L-to-be Greg Kienel told us. “As soon as I got out [of jail] I signed up with LCFL. What a pain in the ass.” Kienel faces a situation similar to many students as they stare the specter of alcohol-related transgressions in the face.
Others have chosen a more proactive approach. “I signed up [for LCFL] as soon as I heard about it,” said 3L Thomas Robinsson. “I like to have a beer or two on weekends, so I thought ‘it’s better to be safe than sorry,’ and joined just in case. I haven’t needed it yet, but it’s a great place to meet chicks who like to get hammered.”
With finals over and libations liberated, Mitchell students have been sewing their drunken oats on Twin Cities streets – much to the chagrin of Lawyers Concerned for Lawyers. “We know it’s fun to go out and celebrate the end of the school year with friends, but when celebration turns to abuse we get concerned,” said Chester Gonzolez, the Mitchell chapter chair of LCFL. “We just want to urge students and faculty to enjoy being with friends in moderation, and most importantly, make good decisions around driving while intoxicated.”
“When I got pinched for public drunkeness the night after my torts final, the first thing I thought about was my Bar application,” 2L-to-be Greg Kienel told us. “As soon as I got out [of jail] I signed up with LCFL. What a pain in the ass.” Kienel faces a situation similar to many students as they stare the specter of alcohol-related transgressions in the face.
Others have chosen a more proactive approach. “I signed up [for LCFL] as soon as I heard about it,” said 3L Thomas Robinsson. “I like to have a beer or two on weekends, so I thought ‘it’s better to be safe than sorry,’ and joined just in case. I haven’t needed it yet, but it’s a great place to meet chicks who like to get hammered.”
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