Friday, February 15, 2008

Who Says Cavemen Can't be Lawyers?

I bet those doodz from the GEICO commercials will be glad to hear it!
I am a law school girl (snatch, gunch, clam, whisker biscuit- pick your subject synonym).

Let's get one thing straight up front- I am not here to learn. I am here to prove something.

As you pretend to listen to me so that you can fuck me, I will probably tell you that either my uncle molested me or that I was raped when I was 15. I also never knew my father. I was high school class president, president of my sorority, student body president of my undergrad, a 4.0 student in my psychology major, maxed the LSAT, but chose UF because it is the cheapest for the best education. I also earned the money to pay for the brand new BMW that I drive (even though I am only 22). I am under-valued, overly-perfect, and haven't bothered to audition for American Idol because it would be unfair to the rest of the competition. I have tried every diet, perfect to the direction, but still can't lose the extra 5 lbs. stuck on my ass. However, I will pretend that the weight doesn't exist by sticking out my tits and dressing fashionable....

In the end, I am only really here to catch a good dickin', or hot beef injection. You see, my biological destiny is to whelp out a few puppies and use them as excuses as to why I never made it in the legal world. The law world is a man's world, and I will continue to remind people in class discussions that women make 75 cents on the dollar that a man makes, even though the areas of law I am concentrated in (Family, Pro Bono) are the lowest paying. And I will leave the workforce to shit out a few kids, feel my calling as a mother, stay out of work for 5 years, and then expect to come back as if I had never left (especially after my husband is sick of not getting blow jobs and trades me in for a newer and less-broken model). I figure that any guy that throws me a dick here will at least be on the hook for child support and will make enough money, by default, to pay me a modest monthly salary for purposely skipping my birth control the night he spent 200 bucks on me at the bar and then took me home. But I got Cosmos out of it, and Miranda and Charlotte love their Cosmos while out on socialite scene of 13th Ave.
I now find myself channeling Buzz Lightyear's pal Woody: you are a sad, sad little man.

No comments: