WOW!

This made me laugh hard enough during class that I had to turn around and pretend to be sneezing.

Nip/Tuck Season 4 Observations/Predictions

As always, I've been loyally following Nip/Tuck through it's fourth season. I'm amazed that the show has maintained the same shock quality and high quality drama throughout four seasons. It's a truly fantastic show and surprisingly, I'm not alone in this assessment. That being said, here are my predictions for this season and what I think of season four so far.

I. The Coming Storm

Sean's last line of Tuesday's episode was a harbinger if I've ever heard one: [referring to a mural of the Garden of Eden] "The calm before they fell from paradise." I think we all know that some shit is about to go down. First, it's pretty damn obvious that Julia will discover that Sean cheated on her with the potential night nurse. I'm guessing that Sean will let it slip in a moment of his perpetual honesty, but there's a good chance that the crazy chick could show up on her own. It's also possible that Christian will let it slip, after all he did proclaim in the operating room that Sean "Porked her." In any event, the McNamara family is about to be split again.

Furthermore, I think the practice of McNamara/Troy is going to be seriously jeopardized this season. Michelle Landau is unstable, and she's being blackmailed. Someone will get fired, or the practice will be split in some fashion. There's a possibility that Christian will join forces with the new doctor on the block (played by A.C. Slater). I would be surprised if Christian gave in for too long to the blackmailing advertised on the previews for next week. Afterall, he has nothing to lose.

I'm also predicting serious problems with the new baby: Conor McNamara. He already has a birth defect and the show would lack drama if he didn't develop complications. Something tells me that it will be a pain in the ass to write the baby into the script much longer than a season, so I am predicting a late-season death. An interesting alternative that I've batted around in my head, is to have Conor kidnapped by the midget male nurse.

II. Matt Becomes Even More Fucked Up

Scientology!? Come on. This is asinine. Matt goes off his antidepressants to worship the good lord Xenu. And who is his partner in this spiritual enlightenment? Kimber Henry. We all know that Kimber is one crazy woman and the more time Matt spends with her, the more time they'll have to screw each other up. Or just screw each other. That's another event I think is inevitable, and I think it'll happen within three episodes. Both Sean and Christian will go apeshit and Matt will go off the deep end. On that note, which main or recurring male character has Kimber NOT done? I count: Christian, Sean, Quentin, Bobolit, and possibly Matt.

III. Liz Cruz Gets Her Kidney Stolen

This is an interesting plotline based off a popular urban legend. Christian takes Liz to a lesbian bar to "tutor" her in the ways of douchebaggery, and she ends up going home with a "ten." That "ten" drugs her and facilitates a surgical theft of her kidney. Hmm...I sense another Carver-type plot that will thread through most of the season. My guess on the culprit: Merrill Bobolit. Merrill was actually my initial first choice for the carver, but the producers made (in my opinion) a rather poor choice in making the carver Quentin Costa. Merrill is probably back on "the tank" and performing organ theft for nitrous oxide. I'm certain that the thief is someone we all know, and the medical skill it took to perform this procedure, coupled with the convenient fact that Merrill was never killed or apprehended makes him the prime suspect.

IV. The Dream Sequences Continue

One of the reasons I love Nip/Tuck is because of the trippy dream sequences throughout the show. Last episode, as Sean contemplated cheating again (after eating a marijuana-laced brownie), there was an angel-devel scene, where the devel, played by a hallucinated Escobar Gallado encouraged Sean to fuck the girl, while the angel, played by the dead, but frequently recurring character Megan O'Hara, encouraged the moral action. Megan won out, but I would love to see more of Escobar Gallardo. For those that don't remember, he was the drug lord that plagued the doctors in Season one, before they gave him plastic surgery to resemble someone on the FBI's Most Wanted list and he was apprehended. What I think would make a FANTASTIC plot line would be to have Sean keep hallucinating about Gallardo, then have him appear for real one day, escaped from prison. He was a compelling character and was excellent in season one. Plus, we all like to see the good guys vanquish the same bad guys now and again. I think that's why the producers kept Kit and Quentin free and alive...they'll pop up again at the end of next season, or possibly season six.

V. Loose Ends

One major problem that the show hasn't touched on is what the hell happened to Ariel Alderman? Season Three ended after she helped her dad torture her boyfriend Matt, and then making him choose between cutting off his or another guy's dick. Then they took down Ariel's dad, shot him in the stomach, and left him to die. Boy that is going to be AWKWARD when Matt runs into her at high school.

I also see problems with Annie starting to emerge. Matt will eventually get to a point where he's too messed up to be realistic, and the reigns will pass to Annie. She'll start small this season, then get into serious trouble in the coming years. I imagine it will be difficult when Julia tells her that her true father was a Tyrannasaurus Rex (Just kidding).

Finally, there's the troubling undertone of Christian possibly being gay for Sean. I think this is a poor plot line and would wreck any chance for normal relations on the show, much like it would have been disastrous for Christian to sleep with Julia again. Plus, with Christian nailing women at a rate that rivals Will Chamberlain, that would be a sudden, painful shift of events that I don't think the show could survive. And for the love of god, stop showing Christian's ass on the show! Yes, we get it, Nip/Tuck is on the edge of cable television, but just go back to proving it by doing drugs and saying "shit."

An Ode to Red Dawn

I really don't say this enough, but Red Dawn is a great movie. So what's prompting me now to proclaim my love of this movie from the mountaintops? Last night on Family Guy, Peter Griffin mentioned that he was in Red Dawn: The Musical, and the show cut to Peter singing about being a Wolverine. Red Dawn is an old movie, but it's messages live on in our time. There's a reason that Red Dawn was the first PG-13 movie EVER made: It kicked too much ass for PG.

So what do we learn from this master of cinematic art? For starters, never trust Russians...or Cubans. However, if you show you are worthy in battle and have to carry your brother out of a final battle where the two of you take on an entire army, then the communist officers will have mercy on you. Furthermore, when things get hot, the high school is not the place to be: As soon as the enemy lands, that's the first place he'll attack. But those are the only cons.

You have to have a battle cry. This is as true when repelling invaders from AMERICA as it is when Patrick Swayze [Jed] is peeing in his truck's radiator to keep it from overheating . No battle cry can parallel that on Red Dawn: WOLVERINES!!! This is not to be confused with Wolves, which a 2004 Bush campaign ad equated with Democrats.

Furthermore, this movie teaches people that if you are true of heart, there will always be two babes hiding in a rancher's basement who will join your roving gang of liberty fighters. Except if you're Charlie Sheen. Then they'll freak out on you for ordering them to do the dishes. Whatever, Ferris Bueller's sister was kind of a bitch anyways.

It's awesome to avenge things. Whether it's blowing up a tank for stealing the mayor's car, or blowing up Russians to avenge putting your father [Harry Dean Stanton] in a Russian death camp, to avenge is badass. Just like Mr. Eckert said: "Boys, Avenge me...AVENGE ME!!!" Wow. Incredible.

So there you have it: War cry, babes, avenge things, stay away from the high school during attacks. Simple enough. Who knows...Red Dawn may one day save your lives.

Pull the Trigger

Normally I'm not an aggressive poker player, but it was aggression that took down the med students last night. And it's true, pride earned at the table is much sweeter than money. Here are some of my favorite moments from last nights Dean Cup Poker:

1. Med Student jeeringly asks us if we watch Law and Order. I ask him if they like watching Doogie Howser, M.D.

2. The stupidity of my early aggression. I admit that the first three times I went all in, it was pure luck that saved me. K-10 outdrew A-K and A-8 outdrew A-Q. I should have been eliminated early on, but ended up drawing out on marginal all-in hands. Sorry A-Mart.

3. At the final table, the board read 8, 9, 8, 9, K. Medical dick had raised big before the flop and I protected my big blind. Problem was, I had 5, 3 offsuit. He checked through the river and I heard a voice in my mind saying "He's weak, pull the trigger." I asked the med student what he had left and moved all in. That was a very long 60 seconds as he debated calling then folded. I think that hand changed the course of the final table and put law in the lead.

4. Somebody had to explain law versus med strategy to me at the final table. I kept getting uber-aggressive with the law students before people yelled at me to stop. Normally, I'm not in the big stack position, so it was hard not to be a bully. I think there is a direct relationship between chip count and aggression, because it was very hard not to raise, regardless of the player.

5. Taking down the med students for the law school. The med student raised before the flop and I called all-in with pocket jacks. Turns out he had Q-J so all I had to do was avoid a queen. We took it down and the med students left with one point. The remaining law student and myself walked away with nine points. I congratulated him on the joint win, even though he is a 1L.

6. Somebody said something about my power making me evil and I responded with something about not having the "heart" ring. Only one person got it. It's amazing how ignorant people are of Captain Planet these days.

Hell hath no fury like me scorned

For those of you intimately familiar with my parking habits, you know that I am normally very careful. Every two days, I go out with an old washcloth and scrub the chalk marks off of my tire so I can avoid the 48 hour parking violation. Why don't I just move my vehicle, you ask? Simple, it's one month away from becoming a tax donation pending receipt of my more dependanble ride and I have an awesome parking spot. So it's stayed put for about three weeks.

However, it seems that big brother has once again engaged in a devious plot to interfere with my personal liberties. I went outside last night with a big gulp full of water, splashed it on my tire, and scrubbed appropriately, however, I left a tiny, faint bit of yellow chalk on the tire. In the morning, there was a blue piece of paper and envelope on my windshield informing me that I now owe the government twenty dollars. I know some of you are thinking I'm guilty, that I deserve this, and I shouldn't be a cheapass and just pay the $20. Well, I hate to disappoint your perceptions of prudence, but there is no way that is going to happen.

The way I figure, is that in a civil action, it's on the government to prove my cuplability by a preponderance. At first glance, the city has a prima facia case due to the timestamped picture the parking cop has of my tire with the yellow chalk. But I have formulated a plan of attack.

The parking ticket allows for both administrative, and municipal court review. I plan to start my attack at the Madison Police Department. I write a letter "suggesting" that this citation is the result of a botched investigation and stereotyped conclusions. I then threaten to sue the officer, the department, and the city for conspiring to deprive me of my constitutional right to travel. If they agree to vacate the citation, I will only have to destroy twenty or so of their squad cars for the aggravation.

However, if they decline to vacate, it's on. I've come up with what I think is a rather ingenious solution: I become a huge pain in the ass and they dismiss the ticket. I spent half an hour sketching out requests to produce documents, requests to admit, and interrogatories. We'll see how devoted they are to prosecuting this case. If we get there and my discovery requests aren't answered, I'll move to dismiss pursuant to Wis. Stats. 804.09-11. Furthermore, you can be sure that one of the requests to admit will read "This ticket is bullshit." Let's see if they catch that one. Afterwards, I'll be forced to overthrow the government and punish everyone responsible with the worst job I can think of: Parking enforcement. Crap.

Rejection Letters

I received yet another rejection letter today. Anyone ever notice that these letters often sound like you're being dumped? Apparently I've got an excellent resume, but I'm just not [insert firm name] material. However, I'd like to hear a little variety, so in tribute, here are some opening lines I'll be using once I make partner (in my own firm next year).

Dear candidate...

1. I really liked you in our interview. You're smart, funny, and will make a great lawyer. But we just didn't mesh. It's not you, it's me. I hope we can be friends.

2. Things were great at first, but you're just not going anywhere. I mean, come on, it's your life goal to be a securities lawyer? Where's all that ambition you used to have?

3. You're cool babe, but you knew what this was from the start. Don't try to play this like you my legal boo.

4. I really like you. Unfortunately, I have herpes. Yeah.

5. You mean you didn't like Rocky IV? The man ended the fricking cold war! Get out!

Sincerely,

Johnny Utah, esquire.
Except #4. I'll get the law clerk to sign that one.

True to my post of eight hours ago, it's on. I've already started civ pro II (only three days to go before I'm caught up). And after watching that home video, I really want to make a potato gun (more potato gun stories will inevitably follow the next time I discuss my undergrad years).

I had a dream last night that I won ten thousand dollars. Then I woke up and realized it was all a dream. This is why good dreams are worse than most bad dreams. Bad dreams just scare you, but the good ones take something away.

Library and Saturated Fat

Eating half that summer sausage was not a great idea. I think I went into a mild form of shock from ingesting about fourteen times my daily saturated fat intake in the span of fifteen minutes. On the plus side, I was able to withstand temptations from all angles against drinking...not that I could have drank, since my entire stomach was filled to capacity. But enough about my stomach.

I arrived home with every intention of collapsing into a coma, but my roommate, his brother, and several of their extended friends were present, playing drunken monopoly. I decided against the nice request to be quiet and opted for the "dress in pajamas and guilt them into silence" approach. It has not worked. However, it's not like I haven't been a drunken ass in the past (i.e. pulling the foosball table in front of my roommates bedroom and playing loudly at 3 a.m.), so I'm letting this one slide.

I must arise and get to the library tomorrow, but that plan appears to be marred with complications. I have to get that pile of filthy rags called laundry into a machine. Laundromats and me generally clash, due to the high populations of homeless people (homeli). In this case, I REALLY need to get up to the school to study, particularly since I've fallen way behind in all of my classes. The diligence factor has been corrupted significantly by the 3L factor and I know that I need to schedule some high quality time amongst the books and 1Ls. However, the need for my clothes not to stink outweighs the need to learn.

Something Pathetic I saw

So I was walking to class earlier this week, one of those rainy mornings. I was stopped on the little island between Broom and Gorham streets, and I heard the roar of a disintegrating muffler. Up pulls a mid-90's civic with a crappily-applied body kit. The guy pulled up, gave the two hot chicks standing on the island with me "the eye," and did his best to do a huge burnout. There was very little tire or engine noise.

Life's a Cover Letter

I'm 25 years old, starting my seventh and final year of college and now I have to figure out what to do with myself. My initial instincts told me "spy" or "NASCAR driver." Maybe both. But realistically, I'm invested in this whole "law" thing.

I don't want it to sound like I haven't been trying. Believe me, I have. I think I look good on paper, but employers are threatened by the ridiculously close shave I get from the Gillette Fusion. More likely than not the problem is that I have trouble interviewing. Case in point, last year a potential employer asks me about a "major mistake I've made" and I blurt out a story about sleeping through an ambulance page. Needless to say, I didn't waste my fist strength by punching through a concrete pillar to impress that interviewer.

So why is interviewing so hard for people like me? It forces the average person to become a douchebag. Douchebags are remarkably successful interviewers because they've been practicing for it their whole life. Think of any bar you've been at and you overhear some guy talking about choosing between a six figure job and helping diseased orphans in Africa. Or perhaps the dilemma of balancing a burgeoning professional golf career with grad school and that book he's been working on. About France.

Interviews are the only form of "tryout" that allows people to mold themselves into perfect images of what someone wants to see, rather than who the person is. I played an instrument through college, and every time I auditioned for an ensemble, we had to demonstrate our skill through preparation and sight reading, rather than a 'clerkship' with another band. In hockey we had to prove we could play at tryouts, rather than smile and tell an interesting anecdote about Guam. When we took our driving exams, success was not contingent on knowing every practice division in the DMV. The "tryout" that sticks with us for life, is going to be based inevitably on some degree of falsehood and it turns my stomach like Clan MacGregor Whisky.

So why do employers do it? Why subject yourself to polished lies that say nothing about the person or his abilities? Do people really want to work with someone willing to radically change themselves for money? We used to have a different word for people like that. Yeah, it was "prostitutes." I think that employers and all of us 'potentials' would benefit far more if we shed the facade and were able to talk "real" and then remain real. I'm not saying that I have a means to implement this scheme, or even that I'll participate. Above all, I'm a realist and I know that everyone, including me, has to submit at one point or another to the misguided process we all call the job search. We'll all smile, pretend we want to be friends with the guy we just met and tell all kinds of stories about how our performance in four hour exams perfectly qualifies us to be the next great lawyer. Oh and if you didn't know, my greatest weakness is that I care too much about my work. I've never had a real career, and I'm already prepped to retire. Anybody want to join me on the beach? We'll eat lunch at 10, dinner at two, and sleep the rest of the day.

On second thought, maybe I should have been a polar bear hunter.

Pumped/Pissed

Chuck Norris, Vin Diesel and Arnold Schwarzenegger have all died and are in Heaven. Each of them hope to occupy the seat next to God. God asks Vin Diesel why he thinks he should have the seat and Vin replies, "I believe... I should have the seat because of my badassedry." Arnie says, "I believe... that I should be the one sitting next to you because of all my achievements." God then turns to Chuck Norris, who replies with, "I believe... you are sitting in my seat."

-Editor's note: Neither Vin Diesel nor Chuck Norris can ever be killed. If they ever competed against each other, the universe would implode.

Last week, Chuck Norris visited the Virgin Islands. They should now be addressed as just "the islands."

Why do we do it?

There I was, enjoying the Badger game by myself, sipping a pepsi and eating a frozen pizza. Halftime came around and John Stocco's aerial circus throroughly impressed me and reaffirmed my conclusion that he will win the Heisman this year. Halftime came around and I asked myself, what could make this better? Beer, I thought.

So I walked down to the liquor store, got some beer and planned on having a couple until I ran into a couple of friends. I drew on habit and reasoned that social drinking would not make an alcoholic, and concluded that we should all get together and drink more than two. I think I had six beers within the third quarter, then we switched to shots of Clan MacGregor. For those of you that aren't familiar, Clan MacGregor is alot like gasoline, and that's what you feel like you've been drinking the next day.

I've had some skull-splitting hangovers in my day, but this was my first "bad one" in a really long time. I remember reading John Grisham books in high school, before I had ever tried alcohol. Grisham tends to highlight the average lawyer's vulnerability to alcohol by vividly describing hangover symptoms. After reading his accounts, I told myself I would never get drunk. Seven years of college later, my high school self is calling my current being a dumbass. And once again, I vowed to never get drunk after today.

Now I know that I'm just lying to myself, it will happen again. Possibly as soon as the first bar review. Afterall, the law school, Madison, and youth cultures I belong to all strongly encourage drinking. And I tend to give in to the peer pressure. So why do we do it? We're all just as capable of socializing without alcohol. I'd like to think that few people have the kind of life where they need the chemical escape provided by alcohol. The perceptions that we are better singers/dancers/mack daddys after drinking has been disproven time and again. So what does alcohol have to offer besides nausea, headaches, and embarassment?

I'll tell you what it has to offer. The American tradition. George Washington had wooden teeth, but he was able to sit and have a Sam Adams with Sam Adams. Andrew Jackson routinely drank whisky before making important decisions, and our very own state is supported on the shoulders of innovators like Jacob Leinenkugel, the Millers, and George Pabst Blue Ribbon Jr., esquire. Jack Handy once commented that it was his duty to help fulfill the hopes and dreams of American brewers by drinking their products. Like Mr. Handy, I am unwilling to turn my back on my fellow Americans. Sure, I'm in a little bit of pain now, but a little pain is a small sacrifice to ensure that America remains the greatest country in the world.

Yeah, well the jerk store called and they're all out of you

I had an interesting encounter at the Madison city building when I went to get my parking permit yesterday. Deep down, I know that most city workers are overworked and underappreciated, but when that turns into unwarranted aggression, it's on.

I get to the counter and hand the guy my mail-in renewal form. He looks at me and says "so let me guess, you didn't bring any of the required materials" in a really sarcastic tone. I responded "Well, the mail-in form didn't require them and it's not expired yet." Then he looks at me and says "well this isn't the mail service is it? Apparently you haven't learned that in college yet." At that point, I gave serious thought to killing this insolent fuck and then marching to his supervisor's office and demand that they fire his corpse. Instead, we got into an argument, the main point being that his office processes all of the mail-in renewals and since I had the customized mail-in form, it had all of the indicia of reliability and I should be granted a permit.

He continued to persist that I needed a lease, registration, and proof of insurance before I would be issued a parking permit. I didn't even bother with the fact that Wisconsin drivers don't need insurance. Then he told me that there are lots of people out there who steal mail/documents in order to fraudulently obtain parking permits. Apparently, he was calling me a liar, thief, or both. Anyways, our dispute attracted a supervisor who gave me a parking permit. Ten minutes later, problem solved.

Throughout the whole thing, this guy was avoiding any constructive solutions and concentrated solely on showing the undergrad girls in line how witty he was. Hasn't the world learned from Seinfeld? One-liners constructed solely for revenge will only lead to disaster. At least I didn't have to go nuclear on him like George Costanza: "Yeah, well I had sex with your wife."