Thursday, June 01, 2006

Barbri Blues Vol. 1 

I put vol. 1 up there because I can only assume this is going to be a fairly long series.

It's now 10 in the morning. I just got back to my house. "But Tbag," you might ask, "don't you have Barbri this morning?" Yes...yes I do. But I'm not there. "Bad Tbag," you might admonish me, "bad Tbag for skipping Barbri lectures!" But, you see, I'm going to the afternoon lecture today. "Lazy Tbag, switching times to get more sleep in the morning!" Nope. I was up at 7:30 like usual this morning.

Guess where I was.

Trying to find printer paper! Doesn't that sound fun? Now why would I be out looking for printer paper (in a neighborhood I don't know very well yet) at 8:30 this morning when I'm supposed to be headed to my Barbri lecture? I'll tell you why. Because Barbri sucks sweaty donkey balls - that's why.

You see, we had our first graded assigment yesterday - a simulated torts essay. And we had the option of turning it in by e-mail last night or by hard copy today. Well, the movers ate my printer paper, so I was all geared up to turn it in via e-mail last night. I finished yanking made-up torts from betwixt my asscheeks and slapping them into a word document. Then, because the directions I hadn't yet read mandated that the essay be typed directly into my e-mail (no attachments allowed they screamed, italicized and bolded just like that!) I had to re-type the whole fucking thing into my gmail window. So once that delightful little torture was over and I'd been forced to actually read the excement I'd just created and stare in the mirror of my answer to see just how retarded I am and just how painfully this test is going to sodomize me, I finally typed the email address Barbri gave me next to the "to:" field and hit the send button. But look! Suddenly I have new mail from some guy called "MAILER-DAEMON" over at the Barbri office! Man...that's some quick grading!

But no. Mailer-daemon was not my grader. It was Barbri's email server telling me that Barbri sucks sweaty donkey balls. Their server overloaded. So there I am, at 11:00 p.m., trying, with every email account I've ever opened, to turn in my assignment. And here I am, at 10:14 a.m., having discovered that Rite Aids in California have both a liquor aisle and printer paper, getting ready to go turn in an essay that I've printed in blue ink because after all the shit I've waded through in the last 14 or so hours, it turns out my black ink cartridge is empty.

Fuck you Barbri. Fuck you very much.


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