Sounds about Right

This weekend the Baylor Mock Trial team, consisting of E.P. and others in his glorious vicinity, received a text message from Prof. Powell that read, “. . . –“. Confused, they thought about it, debated, researched, and discovered it was Morse code for the letter ‘V.’ The universal symbol for victory. A celebration of their success.

Today that joy that carried into class as the professor smiled while allotting twenty-five seconds for his two question quiz and six hours for his afternoon mini-trial.

Could Be Worse

Someone at Pepperdine Law asked me how many hours I was taking this quarter. I said 12; they said that’s not so bad. So I added it up and it turns out the correct response would have been 26.75.

PC II: 10 hours
PC I: 8.75 hours
Double sessions: 2 hours
Exercises: 4 hours
PR: 2 hours

Total: 26.75 hours

On the Brightside, when it comes to paying for a class in which you hope to get a D, 12 hours is way better than 26.75.

I Said Choke Yourself

In celebration of another completed week, I offer a PC-like video recommended by Mr. Rett –Gomer Pyle- Gray.



NSFW. Unless you hate your job or your coworkers appreciate phrases like, “You had best unf**k yourself or I will unscrew your head and shit down your neck.”

Update: How's My Beard Taste?

Last night Prof. Bodyslam issued another four memos during a mini-trial and this morning kindly asked three of the rewriters to rewrite again . . . bringing the two day memo total to 18 [Not counting the unconfirmed report of a Nole Bice issued homework assignment.]

Losing Track of the Punishments

A few posts back someone commented that there have only been 15 – 16 memos with the edge going to PC II. No says I.

For example:

Last night Prof. Powell gave four memos during a mini-trial then assigned four rewrites at the start of class. Immediately prior, Prof. Wren assigned two adventures in research and writing to people that had previously missed class or been kicked out, then gave a good old fashion, “we’ll be in touch” to another with the demoralizing follow-up , “Hope you do better in today’s trial, Mr. Burleson.”

Then, as if God wanted in on the memo action, Mr. Burleson’s phone went off.

[Photo Courtesy of Texas Ranger Dispatch]

Week in Review

“There are several ways to teach the law, Mr. Gray. This just happens to be my favorite.”

"This special learning necklace should help you speak like a lawyer."

Check Back Tomorrow

A lot of good stuff happened today but it’s almost 2 o’clock on a school night and I need to figure out why e-mails from a job prospects go to the junk folder while “Teen babe blowing small pony” goes straight to the inbox.

Luck of the Irish

With a shamrock lapel pin and smile that dared predators to steal his lucky charms, Prof. Powell celebrated St. Patrick’s Day PC style:

Prof: [looking down at the seating chart] “Mr. McNeely,”
McNeely: [standing obediently in his festively green shirt]
Prof: [looking up] “Thank you, Mr. McNeely. Mr. Hanson.”

While McNeely sat down - allowing both the class and he time to wonder what the fuck just happened - Hanson stood up and was asked about 4 majority opinions and a dissent . . . which would have been reasonable had the syllabus assigned more than headnotes one through three.

In other leprechaun related news . . .

PC: No Points for Effort

Testing students over the hundreds of pages of reading from prior to Spring Break, today’s PC II quiz went something like this:

Prof: “Clear your desks.” [Handing out quizzes]
Prof: Pattillo. Why are you reading the question?
Pattillo: I’m sorry, didn’t realize . . . .
Prof: You have ½ the time of everyone else.
Prof: Does everyone have a quiz? [Silent pause]
Prof: You have 45 seconds. 22 seconds for Pattillo.

Upon turning the page and writing a test number, students were faced with a three or four sentence question followed by about seven blank lines in which to write an answer. For me it was enough time to scribble one and a half sentences equal in score to the phrase, “Glorious horse pecker.”

Immunity Day

In my first few quarters I liked nothing more than the concept of Immunity Day - drinking and rubbing my junk against strangers is better when done for charity - but Immunity Day in PC is different.

95% of the class paid $60 or donated blood to free up time to study for this Saturday’s MPRE.

If PC students were zookeepers, I feel this would be tantamount to paying to two weeks salary for the opportunity to spend a day shoveling nothing but monkey shit.

Opening Statement: FAIL

Yesterday I got about two minutes into my opening before being given a memo. Then I had to stumble through the rest without crying. Then I had to sit there until 7:30 listening to others. Then I had to write the memo. Then I had to read for class.

It was awesome.

Had it not been for the memo, I'd probably have written a post titled “Prof. Powell Judicially Notices Chris Brown” followed by a brief description of the events leading up to the phrase, “Ms. Hernandez. If you don’t stop pacing I’m going to slap you.” But alas, I did get a memo and this is what you’re left with.

An Exercise in Futility

Tomorrow I present my first opening statement as a PC student and I expect it to go something like this:

Me: May it please the court.
Prof. Powell: Alright. You know how you hump the bed sheets, Son?
Me: Yes, sir?
Prof. Powell: Well I suspect your ancestor also humped a bed sheet or two and one of those bed sheets miraculously birthed you from its seams. Do you see what I’m getting at?
Me: No, sir.
Prof. Powell: Well you seem to be retarded – i.e. the bed sheet - and a sexual deviant – i.e. the sheet humper. Now continue with that opening and stand up straight. Your client expects you to advocate.

Anything less than a memo and I’ll consider it a success.