I'm no expert on darts, but I'm betting that I won't be able to ever do this again.

Michael Richard's racist rant + video editing software + library of Seinfeld episodes = hilarity.

Kudos to the creators.

Even Easterbrook is way off at times. From this week's TMQ:

Plus, "Vanderjagt" Sounds Like a Flavored Schnapps: Speaking of coaches blaming players, last season Bill "Mr. Personality" Parcells blamed his kickers for the Cowboys failing to make the playoffs. Dallas spent a lot of money on kicker Mike Vanderjagt, and now he's been cut for missing a game-winning kick. Where, exactly, is the coach who has a kicker who never misses at the end? "Win as a team, lose as a team." In individualistic sports such as basketball and baseball, individuals can play well or poorly regardless of the overall effort. But in football, when you win it's because everyone played and coached well, and when you lose it's because everyone played and coached poorly. To shift the blame for an entire game to the kicker over one single play is unsportsmanlike and petty. Thus, fitting behavior for the NFL coach!

The problem with Easterbrook's analysis is that Vanderjagt wasn't cut for missing a game-winning kick - he was kept on the team after the Redskins game fiasco in week 8. No, he was cut because he has missed 5 kicks this year (including two 40 yarders against the Colts). And in this past week's Thanksgiving day romp over the Bucs, Vanderjagt nearly missed every XP, and barely squeaked in a 22 yard FG. Parcells didn't have confidence in Vanderjagt, and for good reason cut him before he actually did cost the Cowboys a game. No blame has been shifted, it was simply a smart move.

After 11 days of being gone from school, I am now faced with the reality of (1) Finals rapidly approaching; (2) Having a mystery illness which I hope a doctor can identify later today; and (3) Living with George, the world's worst dog, for a four week uninterrupted stretch.

I recently asked myself, which would I rather have: A secret Jennifer Love Hewitt sex video or George "disappearing." And honestly, its a toss up. Perhaps the JLH sex video scale is something that we can introduce into our lexicon. Would you rather have X or a copy of the video? And ladies, remember - You may not want the video, but virtually every guy in the world does. Thus, you can use it as a super powerful bargaining chip.

My friends and I always talk about how if Vegas is the major leagues, Atlantic City is double A. The atmosphere is so much better in Vegas. However, AC is still nice because it is only a 2 hour trip from NYC. And it had been awhile since I'd been there - approximately 3 months!

Me, Ben, and Vijay went to The Borgata this past Saturday. If AC is double A, the Borgata is the dominating champion of the minors. Actually, it is nicer than a lot of the Vegas casinos we've been to. The waitresses are generally hot and wear these nice slutty outfits, the drinks usually come pretty regularly (and you get full beer bottles, not cups), and the place just "feels" infinitely nicer than any other AC casino. Even the chips are nicer.

I arrived at 3:30 PM or so, which is when Ben and Vijay were supposed to arrive from NYC. However, they managed to get lost coming down. How you get lost going down to AC from NYC is beyond me, but they managed to drive around Newark, get into a minor car accident, and then go West on the Atlantic City Expressway. Ben blamed it on the GPS in the car, which makes their ineptitude even funnier. But eventually they arrived. We did a shot of Soco and lime in the B Bar and headed for the craps tables.

The first few shooters were nondescript... I saw a chumpy looking guy on the other side of the table (who I nicknamed "chumpo"), and declared that I was going to Don't him really hard when it comes around to him. It came around to him, I Don'ted, while Ben and Vijay passed. He rolled a point number of four, which made me feel really good. Then his next throw somehow carrommed off the back wall in the air, landing as a four, which sent our side of the table into roars of approval. Except for me.

"Chumpo, eh?" Ben asked. I usually stick to my guns, but this time I backed down and said that I'd pass him. He rolled another four point, which elicited some groans, but then immediately rolled another four. Four fours in a row!

"Chumpo? I'm going to make sure you remember this call of yours."

His fifth roll was somehow yet another four. Oddly enough, all of these fours had been the 3/1 variety. Clearly, he couldn't hit another four.

His sixth roll was yet another 3/1. Amazement and cheers around the table. Six fours in a row? What are the odds?

(1/12)^6. Whatever that is, its a large number. And he followed up his amazing four streak by hitting a couple other points, and by the end of his run we were each up a couple hundred dollars.

"Chumpo! Great call Evan!"

So it got to be dinner time, and we joined Ben's parents (who were nice enough to get us a room for the night) at the Borgata Buffet. Dinner there is always great, but its a little better when you're going into dinner with a cushion of winnings. We filled up on the usual assortment of sirloin steaks, prime rib, macaroni and cheese, potatoes, etc. and made our way back to the craps table, this time with Ben's parents in tow.

His parents usually stick to the nickel slots (but mind you, they play like 25 nickels a button push, so that really adds up), but we managed to get them to the table. Things did not go too well, and although Ben's Mom's rolling almost kept us above water (her throws were not pretty, and one throw managed to go about half way down the table before ramming into a stack of chips and dropping straight down, luckily winning us money), we each lost most of our winnings. Ben's parents left, and we retreated to the room to regroup.

My fear level had risen from 25 percent of maximum to 75 percent of maximum as we headed back to the tables after our room regrouping. The table minimums would now be $15 instead of $10, and I no longer had that winnings buffer. Since I only had $300 on me, my night could be over rather quickly, which is one of the crappier feelings in the world. We moved into a table and started laying down our bets. We treaded water for the most part, until this one older roller down the table got the dice. Me and Vijay passed him. Ben elected to don't him. Yada yada yada, Ben somehow was down $500 and off to the room to cry, while me and Vijay were still in ok shape.

What followed is somewhat fuzzy in my mind. I seem to recall rolling for quite awhile, and during my roll one of the great things that can happen to you on a craps table started happening. I apparently had bets out on the table that I didn't recall (probably due to alcohol), and the chip woman was giving me money for rolls that I didn't think gave me money. I rolled an eight. She laid down 45 dollars in my general direction. Noone moved to pick it up. So I picked it up. No ruckus, no commotion. I guess I had a come bet on the eight! And since I was betting the come bet consistently, that meant I had the bet still up there for the next roll. I must have rolled like 4 or 5 eights in a short span. Everything was going right. I was asking what people wanted and then hitting it. Then I would demand that they bet more on their pass line bet, and then I would hit that. The chip woman even paid me too much on one roll. I picked up the chips and then tipped her a five. I was hot.

And then, as I had just released the dice down the table, some moron put his arm down to place a bet. Even before the dice hit his arm, I (and probably everyone else) knew what would happen.

4/3. Seven out.

Watch your god damn hands!

Yes I know, it has no real effect in the long run. We even won a roll earlier in the evening when someone hit the dice. But it is just the worst feeling in the world when some moron isn't paying attention and "causes" everyone to lose. Gibbs is the master at doing this; he is well known for inflicting maximum pain on us with his buffoonery at the table.

Even the moron's arm couldn't stop me overall. I had a full rack of chips in front of me for the first time ever. Me and Vijay cashed out, each up a fair amount. We went up to the room to mock Ben, who was of course already in bed. Unwisely, me and Vijay both went back down to gamble some more, and predictably lost a fair share of our winnings in record time. But we both left as winners on the trip, which is pretty nice no matter how you got to that point.

Watching Michael Vick play the QB position is one of the more comedic experiences in sports.

Yes, he is very fast. Yes, he makes a lot of cuts and makes people look quite foolish. But you see, there is one prerequisite to being a QB in the NFL. You need to be able to actually throw the football to people. And those people have to be on your team.

Every Vick season in recent memory has followed the following progression:

Early Season: The Falcons start out winning games, but Vick has terrible stats. However, commentators remind us that the QB's job is to "win the game," so Vick is doing a great job!

Mid Season: Vick has a 2 to 3 week span where he throws like 5 or 6 TDs against crappy defenses. Commentators now declare him a great pocket passer and that he has finally "turned the corner."

Late Season: Vick has absolutely terrible games against average to decent teams, throwing for unfathomably low amounts of yards. Unlike the early season games, the Falcons lose many of these contests. Commentators declare that Vick is a special, unique athlete who just needs to be put in the right position to win.

Just what that position is, noone knows. Maybe as a kick returner? A scat-back? A small forward on the Miami Heat? One thing is for sure - that position is not quarterback on an NFL football team.

Jim Mora Sr. recently called Vick a "coach-killer," and Mora Sr. has been villifled in the media for these comments. Of course, the comment is true - Vick single handedly hurts his team more than any player on any other team. Watch any Falcons game, and in-between the commentators defending Vick by saying that lots of QBs who were not "pure-pocket passers" were very successful, you will see two to three absolutely moronic decisions by Vick. Taking a 17 yard sack on 3rd down to knock you out of FG range. Taking a sack on 3rd and goal from the 1 to make sure you can't try for a TD on fourth down. Fumbling the ball because he waves the ball around with one hand when he runs. Heave hoeing a ball into triple coverage, or in some situations, to no Falcon receiver in particular.

And these are just the egregiously bad plays. There are plenty of other questionable or just plain bad throws by Vick.

There is a simple response to Vick-defenders who claim that there have been plenty of successful QBs who were not pure-pocket passers. Every one of them - Young, Cunningham, Tarkenton - could, in addition to run with the ball, actually throw the ball where they wanted! Vick can't do this! He can't even do it when he's not in the pocket. Why is this so difficult to understand?

Vick gets more leeway than almost any athlete in professional sports. He's special. Or he's unique. Or he's just such an athlete. But come on. He's fun to watch, but he's not a good QB. You don't need completion percentage, yards passing, or QB rating to realize that.

Things I learned yesterday:

1) Some law school classes can be actually useful in everyday conversations

It is exceedingly unlikely that the Federal Rules of Evidence or the duty of loyalty that directors owe to minority shareholders in a corporation will come up in any non-legal chats with friends. One thing that actually did come up last night were the requirements to obtain a copyright, and that you need to actually register your copyright to bring a lawsuit. Of course, I did not know how much it costs (if anything) to register a copyright, which just underscores the difference between theoretical law school knowledge and actual practicing lawyer know-how.

2) Shopping carts lying in the middle of the highway suck

I was driving down Route 130 last night, which is a pretty major highway in New Jersey, when out of nowhere there was a shopping cart lying in the middle of the road. I swerved to avoid it, but didn't swerve quite enough, and now I have a large dent above my passenger-side headlight. Stupid shopping cart.

3) Guitar Hero 2 is awesome



On Monday, me and Kim were walking through Wal-Mart and I noticed a Guitar Hero 2 package, which included the game and the guitar controller for around 75 dollars. I thought this was particularly cool; while I had never played the game, I had heard good things about it. Its sort of like Dance Dance Revolution with a guitar instead of a mat. Kim said I would be the biggest dork in the world if I bought that game. I said I might put it on my Christmas list.

Well last night I went over to Scalise and Berryman's house, and lo and behold they had Guitar Hero 2. A bunch of us started playing it, and man is it awesome and addicting. I don't care if I look like a damn hell ass fool, that is going on my Christmas list.

Given the dearth of quality weekday afternoon programming on television, Kim put on "Real Life," which is apparently this MTV series where they film a couple people trying to make it in a new city. Or doing something new. Whatever.

The theme of this one was about moving to Las Vegas, so I thought it might be okay. Maybe they were going to film a guy trying to make it as a professional poker player, or maybe a blackjack dealer. Or maybe, if I was lucky, some silicone filled bimbo would try to make it as a dancer.

Unfortunately, the first girl moving to Vegas was a pretty-but-not-too-pretty aspiring model / actress. She wanted to move to Vegas because LA is too cuthroat. Not surprisingly, the modeling does not go particularly well, due to her lack of distinguishing features. Hilariously enough, she ends up having to get a job as a Hooters waitress, which is made somewhat more funny by her lack of a chest. She then ends up entering into beauty pageants where she does not place. Eventually, she gets new modeling pictures of her where she looks more slutty, and I think she is still trying to make it in Vegas.

The other story was a duo of a gay guy and an overweight girl who are moving to Vegas for no particular reason. They want to see if they can "make it," and apparently part of "making it" is living rent-free in your family's extra Vegas house. The not-pretty girl attempts to get a job in a casino, but given her lack of any skills whatsoever, she suprisingly cannot find a job. She runs out of money and goes home. The guy does not even attempt to get a job, instead choosing to live off of his mother's credit cards while going out to clubs every night. However, he contends that he has a plan and knows what he is doing.

Which just leads me to think - what happens if one of my kids ends up like these morons? I say now that there is no way in hell I'd let my lazy-jobless son live off of my credit cards, but maybe I'll grow soft in my old age. I sure hope not.

If there is one thing I learned after watching Sunday Night Football on NBC last night, it is:

Save the cheerleader.

Save the world.

Good lord, their subliminal messages (didn't they play it in whispered tones at the end of other commercials too?) are working!

I met a Columbia Law 3L on Saturday night, and she is apparently uber-smart (or uber-hard working, or probably both) as she is one of the higher ups of Columbia Law Review. We were chatting, and Gibbs asked us which year of law school is the hardest.

I was about to reply how the first year blows the last two out of the water, but she jumped in and said "this one."

You know, I don't think I've given enough thanks to Professor Howard for making sure that my grades didn't allow me to diversify my way onto Law Review.

There are few things that are as infuriating as someone telling you you're wrong when you are definitely right. For example, if you are playing blackjack, and you are dealt a 12 v. a dealer who has a 2 or 3 as an upcard, basic strategy says you hit. However, you would be amazed at how many players will bitch at you when you hit, and then when you actually reply that basic strategy says you hit, they shake their head like you are some sort of moron.

And you think, how on earth do these people get their information? Even intelligent people have these misconceptions about gambling. For instance, one of my housemates a couple nights ago conjectured that Roulette is the best game to play in the casino, when in fact it is one of the worst, with a house edge of 5.26 percent on every bet save one (and the one bet that it isn't is significantly worse).

Again, the question arises - where do these theories arise?

I've found part of the answer. It is magazines like Maxim.

Last month's issue of Maxim had a one page spread titled something like "How to Play Craps like an Expert." And while I do not have that issue on me right now, there were no less than three glaring mistakes on the page concerning what the correct odds were on certain bets. It was as if some drunken monkey just estimated odds and wrote them down, and Maxim then published them.

However, this month's issue Maxim outdid itself, by having a feature called "21 Steps to Win" in blackjack. Lets go through some of the more blatantly wrong "tips."

3) In single-deck games, the house edge has only a .18 percent edge; in an eight-deck shoe, their edge skyrockets to .43 percent.

That is probably right, but what you're neglecting to mention is that single-deck games usually have a terrible rule where a blackjack pays only 6-5 instead of 3-2, which makes it a HORRIBLE game to play.

4) Always double down on an 11, unless the dealer is showing an ace. You should also double down if you have 10 and the dealer is showing 4,5, or 6.

Actually, if you follow basic strategy, you double on an 11 against ANYTHING. Why would a dealer ace bother you? The dealer already checks for blackjack before you can do anything, so if you even have the option of hitting or staying, the dealer doesn't have a face card under there. And if you have a 10, you double against anything except a ten or ace.

9) If anyone at your table isn't using basic strategy, get up. Their idiocy will cost you money.

Uhhh, yeah. It'll cost you money... or make you money. Or... if you want the truth, it won't matter in the long run. Idiots help you just as often as they hurt you. People just don't remember the help as much as they remember the pain. Anyone recall the Entourage scene where the guy splits his tens (never do this), which leads Ari to go on a tirade how the guy is taking the dealer's bust card, which then leads to Vince making like 500k on one hand? It happens both ways, and it evens out in the end. .

10) Playing to the dealer's right or "third base," lets you draw before he does, giving you control over which card he takes next.

This is probably the stupidest thing out of all the things written on this page. Are you like Number Two in Austin Powers, where you have an x-ray eye? You are? Then this tip probably is correct. However, if you do not have an x-ray eye, or if you lack the requisite psychic powers, this tip is sheer idiocy. You can't control the next card if you don't know what it is. Come on!

14) Don't split 8s against a dealer's 9, 10, or ace.

Um, didn't you guys watch Swingers? You always double on 11. Its like splitting eights. ALWAYS.

20) At a $5 table, playing $1 for the dealer is good luck.

Great tip. Tipping the dealer is good luck. This is a step to win. I would expect nothing less from you, Maxim.

It boggles the mind how this sort of stuff gets published. I swear, I would edit this information for Maxim for free, just to decrease the likelihood of people arguing with me in casinos.

In conclusion, for the love of God, don't let magazines like Maxim dictate your gambling. Don't be that guy.

Game Review: Bully (PS2)

The premise of Bully is brilliant, as it is something that not been touched on by any other game that I can think of. You are a new kid at a boarding school, and you must navigate the various cliques of Jocks, Greasers, Nerds, Preps, Townies, and of course authority figures in your quest to, not only survive, but to dominate the school.

The game should remind players of Grand Theft Auto, and not just because it is made by Rockstar. You have the same viewpoint, the same open ended "pick your mission" setup, the same targeting for weapons, etc. And this is one of the biggest problems with Bully - its not Grand Theft Auto. Unfair, maybe, but that is what this game is compared to, and it doesn't stand up to it at all.

The missions in Bully are not particularly creative, and most are ridiculously easy. Many missions have you running errands for teachers or other individuals. Pick up item X at this location and bring it back to me. That's it. No obstacles, no people expressly trying to beat you up, nothing. Mission accomplished. The more involved missions may force you to pick up two items. Or maybe three. And the ultra difficult missions may even put you on a time limit.

For the missions that do not involve retrieving a particular item, usually you will have to fight someone. Combat in this game is pretty satisfying, as your character has a wide array of kicks, punches, combos, knees to the groin, etc.



That being said, it is extremely difficult to lose in physical combat. Your foes may occasionally block your punches, but most of the time they will just take your punishment and then fall down. Thus, it is fairly difficult to lose any combat based mission if you are giving even the least amount of effort. In fact, I've actually won some combat based missions without doing anything in particular, because one of my allies had elected to just beat everyone into submission.

What about the rest of the missions? There are some creative ones. For example, you have to take 3 incriminating pictures of a particularly snotty cheerleader for the head nerd to drool over. This requires you sneaking into the girls dorm's showers and into her bedroom. And in one mission you have to tip over a porta-potty in order to get back at a pervert gym teacher. However, these missions are not only few-and-far between, but also ridiculously easy as well. For the most part, the only time I lost missions was when I got bored and decided to punch an authority figure.



Don't get me wrong, there are a lot of cool and smart parts of the game. You have two classes a day to go to, and if you don't go you are truant and subject to any authority figure chasing you down. You have a lot of side quests to complete in your attempts at 100% completion. But it seems like Rockstar just kind of went through the motions with it. The game had such a great premise. There was such potential. And yet when you beat the game, you think to yourself... "that's it?" Its such an empty feeling, and you never want that at the end of a game.

.01 thumbs up.

I'm leaving school tomorrow night for Thanksgiving break, giving me a nice 11-day span of not thinking very much about classes, firms, or anything related to the legal profession. I'm looking forward to it - I think this is the longest Thanksgiving break I have ever had in my life. Events currently planned include a trip to Atlantic City, Kim's birthday, Thanksgiving Eve fun in Cinnaminson bars, and a Guinness/Harp/Smithwicks tasting event.

Some people have expressed surprise and jealousy that I'm taking an 11-day Thanksgiving vacation. And that almost makes me feel a little bit guilty. But I am only missing four classes (and I thought it was going to be three, but our Evidence professor has apparently played a rope-a-dope on us and we are in fact having class this Friday). And don't I deserve this break? Well, probably not, but I'm taking it anyway.

Back in October, our house started a tradition where once one of us accepted a job offer for summer employment, we would all go out to dinner to celebrate. When Ryan accepted his job, we went out to the nice German restaurant that is a few hundred feet from our house. It was a good time.

Since I accepted my job offer yesterday, we had to go out to dinner. I did not want to go out to a nice place, as I've had my fill of nice lunches and dinners up in New York during this interviewing season. I wanted to get back to my roots. I wanted Ponderosa!!!

For those of you who are unfamiliar with Ponderosa, it is basically about the cheapest "steakhouse" you could ever go to. You spend around $10 for a steak and potato, and with that you get access to the buffet spread, which is the real prize. The buffet has all sorts of items, like mashed potatoes, corn, chicken wings, salad, jello, etc. It is a meal in and of itself.

I grew up eating at Ponderosa. On most Sundays, my family would go to Ponderosa, and since I was a very picky eater, I would chow down mostly on the chicken wings at the food bar. If you want an idea of how they taste, Charles described them last night as very similar to what KFC tastes like. In other words, they are super delicious.

After I graduated from Duke, me, Jim and Stasko decided that whenever we actually got jobs, we would celebrate by going to Ponderosa. We did that and it was wonderfully painful.

Ryan: On a scale of 1 to Ponderosa, how excited are you to be going tonight?
Jesse: 3
Charles: 0

Thus, against the wishes of Charles and Jesse (Charles offered to buy me a nice dinner if we could just go somewhere else), we headed off to Pantops to gorge ourselves on cheap food and steak-like products. We tried making up a Ponderosa song to the tune of "Bonanza," but it failed miserably.

However, Ryan noted that we are in fact already winners.



We arrived and ordered our food. If you look at the menu, the buffet costs $8.99. My steak (an 8 ounce sirloin) with a buffet cost $9.99. Thus, my steak essentially cost $1. What a value!

I started off with my favorite, the chicken wings, although I did add corn and mac and cheese to my plate as well.



After almost filling up on these items, my steak arrived. It was not particularly good, but what do you expect for a dollar? It was edible, I ate most of it, and thats really all that can or should be said about it.



Ryan then got his steak, ate half of it, and proceeded to make one of the worst noises I've ever heard involuntarily come out of a human body. It was like a burp, only if some strange non-person animal had made it. He declared he had hit the wall, and slowed down considerably.

Jesse, in the meantime, continued to chow down on the buffet, making four separate trips up to the food bar. He described the lima beans as the opposite of good, but he did enjoy the chicken wings. The blue jello on his plate was probably the healthiest item available.



To finish things up, me and Ryan got some soft ice cream, and eventually we all left as conquering heroes.



The aftermath, was of course, painful. This was to be expected. But it was worth it. Ponderosa's own website states:

We don’t think you can eat this well for this amount of money anywhere else.

That pretty much says it all.

*41 On grounds interviews requested
*26 On grounds interviews taken
*10 Callback interviews
*7 Flights on propeller planes flying out of Charlottesville
*1 Canceled flight coming back to Charlottesville from LaGuardia
*1 Missed connecting flight in Charlotte, causing me to sleep at Janelle's apartment
*18 out of the last 38 days spent in New York City
*1 Partner-interviewer who elected not to show up in his office
*1 Interview sabotaged by Evan that day
*1 Interview accidentally sabotaged by Evan by taking the leftovers from lunch back for Kim
*1 Instance in an interview where my time at The Chronicle (and subsequent canning) was discussed
*1 Offer from that firm
*2 Umbrellas received
*4 Reimbursement checks still outstanding that I desperately need
*19 Classes missed due to callbacks
*1 Cold-call that came despite emails to the professor the night before saying I was stuck in Charlotte
*1 Firm for Evan

Have you seen this flask?

Last night, I brought this flask full of rum along to Annie's apartment for her PILA pre-party. I wasn't planning on drinking, but Ryan, Jesse, and Charles definitely could have used it. I put it on the bottom shelf of the fridge.

And someone stole it.

Honestly, who the hell steals a flask full of liquor? Thats just such a toolbag move. Whoever you are, you are a pitiful excuse for a human being, and numerous poxes will be cast upon your house in the next two years. You may wonder, why did my cat die? Why did my uncle turn out to be a child molester? Why is the partner I'm working for making me stay till midnight every night for no discernible reason? Well, you can just look back to this incident. Stealing someone's liquor is despicable. You lose.

And now, on behalf of the many people who have followed this team during those dark days and the entire college football world, we offer the following analysis of the Rutgers football game last night:

Holy @#$&*#!!! - Steve Politi, The Star Ledger

I watched the game last night in NYC - Kim doesn't have ESPN, so we had to watch the important parts in a bar. It was absolutely packed with people, and although it seemed like there were only a few Rutgers fans in there, everyone was rooting for Rutgers, if you get that distinction.

I suggested to Kim earlier in the night that if Rutgers won, we should take the train down to New Brunswick to see the chaos that likely ensued. I lost that battle, as she has to work and I have to visit a firm in an hour or so, but man, being in New Brunswick last night must have been hot.

Fuggetaboutit!

Tonight, Rutgers faces off against Louisville in, as ESPN says, their biggest football game in 140 years. Which is odd, because Rutgers and Princeton played the first intercollegiate football game in 1869, which would mean that ESPN is predicting that for the next 3 years, Rutgers will not play a bigger game than this. But here's to 2010 for Rutgers! Fuggetaboutit!

Rutgers holds a special place in my heart as essentially my third school. Duke for undergrad, UVA for law, but in the years between Duke and UVA, I basically pretended I was a Rutgers student. I lived in New Brunswick and Highland Park with Rutgers students. I took Rutgers buses back and forth to work. I played intramural tennis with Rutgers students and went to Rutgers gyms. In short, I was a Rutgers student with work simply replacing class. So whenever Rutgers is on TV, I like to root for them.

Rutgers is fun to root for because, inexplicably, they are never good at anything. They are the State University of New Jersey, yet have a terrible time recruiting anyone good. The closest they came to goodness in sports was when Jason Williams (not the shotgun wielding murderer, but the Duke basketball star who ended his NBA career with a motorcycle accident) wanted to go to Rutgers. However, his parents essentially forced him to go to Duke. We know how that ended up.

As an extra kick to the groin, Dahntay Jones, the star of Rutgers basketball at the time, decided to transfer to Duke.

The football team has been particularly pathetic, but they are on the upswing and last year went to only their second bowl game in their storied history. This year they are undefeated and playing in a very big game tonight against #3 Louisville. Go Fightin Sopranos! Fuggetaboutit!

Some people may be wondering where those nicknames and slogans originate. It all stems from a Sportscenter highlight many years ago. Rutgers was playing Miami (when Miami was really good), and somehow was winning. They were blocking punts, making big plays, and ended up only losing by like 7 or 14. During the highlight reel, every time a Rutgers player did something good, the Sportscenter reporter would yell, "FUGGETABOUTIT!!!" And he called them the Fightin Sopranos. And thus that is what I will always know them as.

No, no. This does not concern the elections today. Much like Cutty in The Wire, I cannot vote. Well not really, but that is my line until i come up with a better one.

The decision concerns what law firm am I going to work for next summer.

I have it down to two firms, and right now it may as well be a coin flip. The firms are very similar in practice areas, compensation, and reputation, so I'm forced to look to other factors. For example, Firm A has treated me extremely generously, and is known for continuing to do this when you are an associate. Conversely, Firm B's travel agent tried to put me on a connecting flight from Charlottesville to LaGuardia, and she gave me crap about a hotel room for two nights when I didn't even ask for a hotel room for one. However, I have enjoyed meeting with the people from Firm B a little bit more. Firm A counters this by giving me my own office as a first year and by being business casual year-round.

I haven't ever really had to make a decision like this. Duke, Kaplan, and UVA were easy decisions for various, distinct reasons. But now I'm faced with a choice that will likely dictate how much I enjoy the start of my legal career. And sure, I can always change firms after a couple years, but who wants to do that?

I guess I have some thinking to do this weekend. Good thing I'll be completely blitzed at the PILA auction on Saturday night, and mostly hungover and non-functional on Sunday.

"Looks like somebody's got a case of the Mondays!"

Or not.

When I was creating my schedule for this Fall, the lack of classes that I was interested in created an odd schedule - two classes on Friday, but no classes on Monday. I didn't know what to make of it - I had never even heard of a no-Monday class schedule, while of course a no-Friday class schedule is more the norm than the exception.

This no-Monday thing has turned out to be worlds better than a no-Friday schedule.

First of all, lets analyze what happens on your basic Friday. Whether you are at work or at class, Friday is the easiest day to be there. The weekend is ahead of you, professors and bosses tend to take it easier on you, and you may or may not be hungover (so you don't even really care whats going on). In short, Friday is barely like a day of work. On the other hand, Monday is probably the worst day of the week. You still have at 4 days of grueling pain ahead of you, and you just came off of the best day in the week (Sunday with its 12 hours of football). Its quite depressing being at work or class on a Monday. There's a reason that the saying is about a case of the Mondays as opposed to a case of the Fridays. So if you had a choice, which would you rather have off?

Secondly, having Monday off implicitly makes Sunday that much better. When you're watching football or baseball (or doing whatever girls do) on Sundays, you always have it in the back of your mind that Monday is lurking right around the corner. Its sort of like the last day a vacation - you know that you're supposed to be enjoying the beach and whatnot, but you can't help but think of having to go to work the next day. However, when you have Monday off, the Sunday becomes that much better! I think these Sunday's I've had this semester have been some of the best of my life. I just lay around, watch football or baseball, and give absolutely no thought whatsoever to the perils of Monday... because I don't have any!

On the other hand, if you have Friday off, its not going to make your Thursday any more enjoyable. You're probably going out on Thursday night anyway, mostly because you don't give a damn what happens on Friday. Whether you have off from work the next day or not, on Thursday night you're enjoying the fact that Friday is right around the corner, and thus having it officially "off" adds nothing to either Thursday or Friday.

Lastly, there are a ton of fringe benefits about having Monday off. If you go golfing on Monday, you have not only a more empty course (I think more people take off Friday to golf than Monday), but you pay weekday rates, instead of the weekend rates they impose you on Friday. You have all day to do whatever you need to do, and then you can settle in for some nice Monday Night Football, Wrestling, or whatever floats your boat. For example, I just went to Wal-Mart to return that stupid noisy/smelly space heater. Sure, I had to wait in the return line for 5 minutes because some woman didn't have any identification for the return... but on probably any other day there would be 5 of those people in front of me instead of just 1.

11 thumbs up to having Monday off.

The heat in our house does not work particularly well, so I went and bought myself a heating fan yesterday. There were plenty of models to choose from, some in the 40 dollar range, and others as cheap as 10 dollars.

Not surprisingly, I went with the second cheapest model, figuring that the biggest difference in heating fans must be the amount of heat they generate. And since it only needs to heat my small room, something like this:



would suffice.

Unfortunately, this heating fan is insanely loud. The fan I'd been borrowing from Ryan is like 4 times as big and 3 times as quiet. This fan reminds me of when I sit near the propeller on the prop planes from Charlottesville to LaGuardia. Additionally, this fan's heat created a nasty smell. Perhaps it is just because it is new, and the smell will dissipate with time. However, I'm not going to risk it. I'm going to return this thing Monday and go with a more expensive version.

Maybe the same wisdom that CDW said about chicken pot pies applies to heating fans. You really, really, don't want to get the cheap versions.

In every week's issue, the Law Weekly (the UVA Law weekly newspaper) has a thumbs up and thumbs down section. Last week's section included:

"Thumbs up to the student who, to a group that was taking Professor Sprigman to lunch, sent an email saying, 'Sprigman's riding bitch.' Sprigman was on the email list, and now your grade is riding bitch, big guy."

And this week's Law Weekly includes an apology, because apparently some people (some women, apparently) were offended by the term "riding bitch."

That is god damn moronic. It would be as stupid as if someone wrote in to the Law Weekly for this week's use of the term "Black Monday." Jesus, who the hell are these people??? You're writing a letter to the editor about the term "riding bitch"? I guess when you have no friends because of your utter lack of social skills, you don't have to worry about who is sitting in the middle of the backseat. I can't believe that these people are going to be my fellow lawyers.

What a bitch.

I love being a 2L. Absolutely love it. I'm not a 1L studying my ass off and living in fear, and I'm not a 3L who realizes that the real world grind of a legal career is right around the corner. I'm in a perfect spot.

I wasn't stupid enough to schedule a class that meets regularly on Fridays at 9 AM, but my Tues/Thurs 9 AM has two "extra" classes that are scheduled for Fridays at 9 AM. One of those is tomorrow. And there is absolutely no friggin way I am going.

I don't even have a "real" reason for not going, other than I simply do not want to go. I might go out tonight and get drunk. I might just stay in and watch the WV / Louisville football game (although neither of them is going to get past Rutgers. Fuggetaboutit!). I might do absolutely nothing. But the one thing I am certain of is that I am not going to that 9 AM tomorrow.

I haven't been to three of the last four classes. I know someone who has not gone to this particular class for the last month. Nobody cares anymore. I love it.

It is well known that I love the chicken and rice stand on 53rd and 6th. I've actually brought this stand up in many of my interviews with firms who are located near the cart. I've told people about fights breaking out in the line between people who think others are cutting. Well, the bar just got raised.

The tragedy unfolded as Noel and Shannon Gibbons and a pal waited in line for falafel at the kiosk on Sixth Ave. at 53rd St. A man later identified by police as Ziad Tayeh, 23, accused the trio of cutting the line.