Welcome to Abu Halen.

If you listen real heard, you can actually hear the good times roll. Or at least limp. Maybe crawl.

We're Above Def Leppard

Before Dad KILLED his finals. Post-Christmas tree set-up. Good job, amigos.
I finished my finals today. KILLED them. It's no big deal, really. I just sit down, read the question, apply reason to facts, then sit back and let the 4.0s roll in, sure as the tide. For instance, I had my Water Law exam today. Cool as ice, I read the first question and... BOOM! I understand every word. Just like it's no thing. "Water," for example, means the clear substance that rotates around the toilet bowl in a rapid, fascinating fashion when you flush. "Diversion" is what you do when your crime fighting sidekick needs to defuse the bomb but guys with fu-man-chus are guarding it, so you run out in front of them dressed as an attractive woman. Consequently, I confess I was confused for a moment during the exam by the phrase "diversion of water," because water is not attracted to girls, so how would you distract it? But then I realized with smug satisfaction that water IS attracted to electricity, so from there the question was easy. Reason to facts, my friends. Reason to facts.

Last week I had an exam for a class called Professional Responsibility, which is all about ethics. Everyone knows about ethics, but lawyers have special ethics. Like you can't sleep with your clients.  Which puts lawyers a step above the guys from Def Leppard. So I memorized that rule, and I think it came up a few times on the test. BAM! Can't do it. The answer is C, for "can't." Then I flip the page with authority so the guy taking the test next to me comprehends without question that I. Know. This. Junk.

I think I had a couple other exams, but they were so far beneath me that I forgot what they were about. I vaguely recall something about cod fish and Wrigley Field, but it's like a fond memory of a vastly overmatched foe that succumbed meekly to the sheer force of my intellect. KILLED my finals. Hold on. The Supreme Court is on the phone. They want to go in halvsies on a book called "Things We Think About All the Time that You Can't Even Spell, and Other Ways We're Superior to You." I don't know. I just don't feel like I need to prove anything to the world, you know? Look, I know that if I concentrate hard enough I can set a MacBook Pro on fire just with my intelligence, but does everyone need to know? Probably not. All this talk is interesting and all, but I have a hankering to flush a toilet and watch the water spiral, sooooo... I'm out.

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