My entire scholastic career has been focused on doing as well as possible while, at the same time, exerting as little effort as possible – why else would I major in Political Science? During my first few weeks at HLS, I felt intense peer-pressure to up my game and sacrifice my awesome lifestyle to keep up with the reading, briefing, outlining, and/or going to class habits of my colleagues. Then I realized what I knew all along, I am smarter than these clowns.

Even at Harvard Law School, my LSAT is in the top 5%. Stop reading and think about that last sentence. Understand what I’m saying? Yeah, I dominated that shit.

And I may be a shitty writer, but when an entire semester’s worth of material is condensed into a 2-4 hour long exam, we will all be shitty writers. More importantly, our grading system is fucking stupid. 90% of each class gets a pass or a high-pass. If I have one HP and the rest Ps as a 1L, biglaw is a lock for my second summer.

So I’ve stopped reading and briefing for all but one of my classes (Ks obv). I have a ton of hand-me-down outlines that this group of 2Ls who think that I am their friend gave me, all of which cover exactly what we are going over in class. I figure I have my one HP on lock and given my incredible, inconceivable, unimaginable intelligence, I don’t see why another one or two won’t fall my way – and even if they don’t, I’m set for life anyway.

Best of all, my fuckstick classmates can’t complain about this post as it should make them feel even more confident about their potential law school success. You can all spend 30+ hours outside of class studying every week, and I’ll spend 10. Just don’t blame me when we perform exactly the same on our exams, blame law school.

So what am I doing with all my free time? Last week, despite it being cold as balls, I went to Boston’s shitty zoo (Franklin Park) with another male 1L (it was only slightly gay). I don’t really know what possessed us to undertake such an endeavor, I suppose it seemed better than going to class. The zoo, as should have come across when I called it shitty, sucked.

Fortunately, I had a handle of Jim Beam in the trunk of my car – so we went back to my car and began drinking with the perhaps misplaced hope that the sauce would direct us to our next destination. A discussion of women quickly revealed that the other 1L had not felt the female touch in a long, long while. I proposed I feel any normal Harvard Law student would, “Let’s go bang some Wellesley chicks.”

Now look, I’m not from the area, I always thought Wellesley and Harvard were like next door to each other, I had no idea I was proposing a 30 minute drive. You can imagine how nervous I was when I had to take my eyes off the road to pour Jim Beam into my mouth as we drove down 90. It was terrifying. I’ve since begun storing a plastic cup in my car, for safety.

It was 4 in the afternoon by the time we made it, both of us were slightly drunk. I forced my friend, let’s call him Matt, to flag down a campus cop and ask where we could park. He directed us to a lot and made us fill out a form, which required me to list who I was visiting on campus, “Tera Patrick”.

We spent over an hour being harassed by the random campus cops until we dropped the HLS bomb on a group of super pale, slightly cute females, who immediately began covering for us. They took us to an empty open bar called ‘Punch’s Alley’ where we tried to buy them drinks but the bitch at the bar walked over, carded the non-purchasing, underage girls, and asked us all to leave.

The girls then snuck us into a dorm-room, where we spent the next three hours finishing my bourbon. I fooled around with the cutest of the bunch but was too drunk to keep the party moving, if you understand what I’m saying. Matt got some tail, though he has since begun dating the girl, so I don’t know if I want the credit for that particular hookup.

Also, though this seems to slightly contradict the early content of this post, I’ve been digging this lately:

I sat down an hour ago with a large cup of whiskey truth serum to write this article. The post became more and more disconnected the more (and more) I drank. Don’t misconstrue this an apology, it’s only an explanation, you judgmental fuck. HIGH FIVE!

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