If you read the comments on one of the previous posts, my friend Kylie remarked that the process of studying for the bar exam is pretty hellish. She laid claim to a more hell-like atmosphere because she is in Arizona and the temperature there is in the triple digits (although I think this was what she was aspiring to last winter ;-) ); however, we're damned close up here in Ohio. Yesterday it was so hot I thought I could make smores on the pavement (except I don't consider asphalt a desirable ingredient); and the cottonwood flying is driving my eyes absolutely crazy. I've spent the past three days listening to lectures on civil procedure (it's about how you get into court, not how lawyers are supposed to be nice to each other.) At the conclusion of the lecture, the professor giving it said he wished us luck on the bar exam but not a good summer, because if we had a good summer, we'd flunk. Instead, he wished us a terrible summer. Thanks!

Well, one of the things that is at least giving me some comic relief -- and has through law school -- is the practice of coming up with somewhat relevant names for people in hypotheticals. I guess I should first explain that learning about the law involves a great number of hypothetical questions. It's basically a way of applying the law taught to what is supposedly a real-life-like situation. Through the facts, you notice issues of legal relevance and use those to suggest either the decision a judge should make or, more frequently, the legal arguments attorneys on either side should make. This is how most law school exams, and the bar exam, operates.

So, for instance, last week we found our contracts professor, Davis, in a contract with Denzel Washington. While Denzel Washington was in the shower, he made some statement that, if anyone heard it, would have modified the contract; but since he was presumably showering alone, no one knew it and the contract survived. "So, I'm not going to know about this modification, unless," she said, I thought just a little hopefully, "I'm in the shower with Denzel Washington." (She seemed to have forgotten for the moment that her not showering with Denzel is keeping her contract alive.)

Our contracts professor (for BarBri) seemed to have three favorite metaphors) -- the 1973 Kharman Ghia, scooby snacks, and widgets. This 1973 Kharmann Ghia was, apparently, a car that kept getting sold back and forth. I, and I think some other people, were under the impression that the name was another pseudonym, but someone finally went online and found that there actually was a Kharmann Ghia, and it wasn't a bad looking car.

Scooby snacks -- these were units or items of, obviously, food being sold.

And then, of course, there was the ever-popular widget, sold wherever contracts students are learning offer, acceptance and consideration. I think there's a marketing bonanza to be had in coming up with a clever product to be marketed to law students and professors and calling it a widget.

Also in the course of contracts, Jen took out a contract with Allstate to insure Brad's life. (I'm betting the problem will change in one of two ways; either Jen will assign her contract to Angelina, or else Jen will simply take out a contract on Brad, thus giving students a wonderful chance to learn the doctrines of illegal subject matter and purpose.)

Also in contracts, Mary Kate Olsen was hired to teach contracts. John Tesh was hired to sing by Club E Tonight on December 24, 2007, which, as the professor remarked, was only one night. Trump hired Mike Brady to build his house, but Brady died before he could get around to it. (Here's the story/of Trump's new mansion/Which he couldn't build because Mike Brady died/This thus excused/Poor Mike's performance/So the Donald rolled around in his piles of money and he cried.)

Similarly, in CivPro, some famous friends have hit some foibles and follies. For instance, Hillary of New York has sued Bill of Arkansas and Ken of Maryland (not Ringo). Woody has been sued by Player for punching him in the nose, and Player tried to introduce evidene that Woody was a bad-tempered, grouchy old man. (Hope that one is tried in Columbus.) John McCain, while on the road in his tour bus campaigning, had his bus totaled in an accident caused by Bob Beerdrinker. (This is purely hypothetical, because John McCain's never run into anyone who gave him problems who liked beer.) Mr. Ed has sued Wilbur, and amended his complaint before Wilbur answers. (The horse took recourse, of course, of course/And no horse can take recourse, of course/That is of course, unless the horse, is the litigious Mr. Ed./Go right to the source/And ask the horse/A jury demand he will endorse/He'll cite you cases until he's hoarse/The famous Mr. Ed.)

I think it's starting to get to me.

But my favorite hypo has to be the one where "Quail is polluting a stream that runs through Gore's land and is killing Gore's birds."

As you might be figuring out by now, we take our humor where we can find it, whether in laughing at hypo names or making really bad sixties show intros even worse. In talking with others, I've discovered that they are not yet to the point where they feel they are religiously following the BarBri schedule. I'd been doing pretty well until I hit three out of four days where I had to travel from Toledo to Port Clinton and back again. (As many of you know, I lead an interesting dual life between Lucas and Ottawa Counties.) The good news is that my obligations there are pretty much subsided to once or twice a month, and I have planned to be absent from there most of the time, except during weekends. I am working on completing editing on this paper that will enable me to graduate. I hope to finish that today or tomorrow, and then be able to get back up to speed.

And the fun never ends. At 7:37 A.M., it's seventy and two degrees above our low today. Should be wonderful out.