A Strongly Worded Letter To The Bar Exam
1) First of all, Â letâs talk about your stupid list of what I can bring into the bar exam. Oh my god, no sharpeners. NO SHARPENERS. Well yes, Iâm sure sharpeners pose a grave security threat. I might lose my shit at seeing a Secured Transactions essay on the bar exam and threaten to sharpen someoneâs pencil or something. Oh god, the sharpening! NOT THE SHARPENING.
Also, I fully understand why I have to keep my water bottle UNDER the desk when I am not drinking from it, and why it canât be more than one liter. Imagine what would happen if I had a 2-liter water bottle that was on my desk, just randomly chilling! MAYHEM.
(Also, Taliban, thanks for telling me that revealing clothing is not allowed when itâs a hundred fucking degrees in this bitch.)
2) Mnemonics, bitches. You give us FAR too many. The POINT of a mnemonic, last time I checked, was to aid the retention of information. When you give us five thousand different ones (that are completely counter-intuitive), I forget them ALL. On the bar exam, I know Iâm going to be sitting there staring at an essay question, and then write down something like
CATS-ACLA? in shrubbery Orville popcorn mm popcorn WITNES WHATSUP WASSUP WOSSSSSSup x MAD FIFI HAD AN AFFAIR WITH THE VICTORIAN GARDENER (in the shrubbery? PING)âŚsome Backstreet Boys song I HAVE A PMSI I HAVE PMS I CANâT CATS in the shrubbery H!H!HH
How is this going to help anyone?! This is  not going to help me, Paula. I can never eat penne a la vodka without thinking of you EVER again.
3) Â The bar exam hypotheticals. Oh man, those hypotheticals. I could write a separate letter just on the horribleness of your hypotheticals. Itâs bad enough that theyâre long as SHIT. What is this, Downton Abbey? Are you all failed screenplay writers? Â I donât give a shit that Douchebro Defendant is an ex-MMA fighter. The point is he punched a dude in self-defense, okay? If it doesnât change the answer, I DONâT WANT TO HEAR IT.
I also hate that the limp dicks in your hypotheticals never EVER:
a) Record shit. Hey moron, if youâre buying shit from a dude you KNOW doesnât have title, you probably want to record that shit. Or just donât buy it, whatever. Who the fuck buys from a dude named Devious Dealer anyway? HIS NAME IS DEVIOUS DEALER. Fuck you.
b) Â Rescue properly. Listen mate, itâs real nice that you have a hard-on for superhero movies. But hereâs a thought, donât do shit like jumping into oceans to rescue people when you canât fucking swim and youâre going to freak out and climb onto the rescueeâs body to save yourself. Same goes for when you see someone banged up on the road. If youâre going to randomly break their legs on the way to the hospital, SAVE IT. Call an ambulance instead.
c) Murder people in the good old-fashioned way. Hey, whatâs wrong with just shooting someone? Why do you gotta pour Ex-Lax + arsenic into some poor camperâs soup to sabotage their chances in the tree-climbing competition tomorrow? Oh, you knew there was a small chance it wouldnât kill them? TOO FUCKING BAD. I donât care about Murder II, okay? Just own it and take them out execution-style, imbecile.
d) Leave Blackacre to anyone in fee simple. Donât even fucking talk to me about leaving your shit to Jimmyâs grandchildren on the fucking condition that Paulaâs husband opens a stupid oyster restaurant in 30 years. Wanker. Nobody wants Blackacre. Itâs shitty. AND full of mortgages. AND easements. So fuck you.
e) Deal in anything other than widgets. What the fucking fuck is a widget? Iâve Googled that shit and I donât understand it. Fuck you for delivering 20 red widgets and 20 blue ones two days late after writing a letter to repudiate first. NO-ONE WRITES LETTERS TO REPUDIATE. Get a phone, jackass. Iâm not reading your stupid letter. I donât give a shit that there was a storm that delayed production of your widgets. Hereâs a thought: why donât you handcuff yourself to your precious widgets and go jump off a cliff, Seller. You donât even have a last name. No one will miss you.
f) Go into someoneâs house and leave without starting some shit. What the ever-loving hell is this about? Okay, youâre up at 2 AM and you want to do some power-drilling RIGHT NOW. I get it. Your lousy neighbor promised you could use his power-drill to do some amateur carpentry and you need it RIGHT NOW. So you do the casual break-in and then randomly decide to jack off or swipe a Rolex or start some fires. NO. What the fuck is wrong with you, you pyromaniac? GET OUT. Itâs 10-1 the neighborâs going to see you and drop dead of fear anyway.
g) Get your subcontractor estimates right. If I donât make it as a lawyer, I want to be a subcontractor. How incompetent are you dudes? If thereâs EVER a subcontractor on any question, I know yâall going to fuck up your figures bad. Like, REAL bad. Youâre going to be off by about a few hundred thousand dollars. What are you DOING when youâre running the numbers, smoking crack in your car? Donât bother. The police are going to find it anyway. And then you wonât exercise your right to a lawyer. Fuck you.
4) Why do you talk so slowly, bar exam lecturers? Iâm really sorry that you look like a dried up raisin of a man whoâs going to die in the middle of telling us what to put in the blank spaces, but AINâT NOBODY GOT TIME FOR YOUR POP CULTURE BROMIDES. Itâs really cool that your son started a restaurant that I will never go to, but I have rage blackouts because youâre making the lecture ten times longer. Â Also, donât even THINK about telling me what the old law was. Itâs sweet that you think Iâll impress the examiners by putting in
âWell, in 1984, Massachusetts courts accepted holographic wills as long as they were signed with a giant pink My Little Pony pen. But in 1999, the law changed and only lavender My Little Pony pens were allowed.â
NO. I will not have the time or gift of recall to put that in. While youâre telling me that useless fact, I could be doing something like ripping out the perforated handouts from my book (WHY ARE THEY SO HARD TO RIP OUT? Who do you think is writing the bar, the Incredible Hulk?) Â MOVE ON DOT COM.
5) WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS COMMERCIAL PAPER BULLSHIT? Iâm sorry but I thought it was as simple as âIf you forge a signature, youâre liable for the $$$.â But oh no, apparently not. Look, Iâm never going to know this shit. Ask the Bank of America teller, okay? NO-ONE GETS COMMERCIAL PAPER. If you put commercial paper on your exam, Iâm going to break all my pencils and then attempt to stab myself in the eye with the water bottle thatâs underneath my desk because IT CANâT BE ON TOP, OH NO. And to add insult to injury, you gave us Paula again. INDORSE MY ASS, PAULA.
6) Thereâs nothing I hate â well, aside from that horrible time I had to do BARBRI Amps and got 0%- more than looking up answers and seeing âC is technically correct, but D is a better answer.â WHY. Would it be THAT hard for you to have three wrong answer choices? What makes D better? Does it volunteer at a soup kitchen on weekends? I DONâT CARE. I should get credit for picking C if itâs correct. End of. FIX IT. Youâre negligently causing me emotional distress. Actually, intentionally. THIS EXCEEDS THE BOUNDS OF WHAT WOULD BE ALLOWED IN A CIVILIZED SOCIETY. Youâre lucky I even picked anything. There are those times I start crossing off answers and I get rid of A, B, C, AND D and cry quietly.
7) [UGH I HAD SIXTEEN MORE POINTS TO WRITE HERE BUT I CANâT EVEN BECAUSE I HAVE TO GET BACK TO MY STUPID INTERACTIVE PACED PROGRAM. WHATâS INTERACTIVE ABOUT IT, BARBRI? IF IT WAS REALLY INTERACTIVE IT WOULD HAND ME A DRINK EVERYTIME I GOT LESS THAN 60% ON A PRACTICE TEST. FUCK YOUR PACED PROGRAM. AND FUCK THE BAR WITH THE FIRE OF A THOUSAND SUNS. FUCK IT.]
Thank you so much for your time! I will expect your response soon â not by letter in case it gets lost in the mail.
baratheonpilled
prguitarman
turnnoffyourmind
areudirty
