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September 2010
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Dennis Jansen

May 11th, 2009

The Final Crimlaw lesson

I took my Criminal Law final this afternoon. It was basically a typing contest.

Me: “That was special.”
Jill: “Yeah. Oh my god…I feel like I’m out of breath or something!”

I actually enjoyed studying for the Crimlaw final. It’s amazing how much a class can suck all of the life out of a subject.

I had a sneaking feeling all semester that if I only “delved into the material” more, that I would actually like the class. Hm. Next time!

May 10th, 2009

The study break

So, I was working on a practice exam for tomorrow’s final when Harley walks up to me, sniffs my knee, and then walks to the wall and PEES ON IT.

I had an Alley McBeal hallucination moment where I saw myself screaming “FALAFEL!!” and lunging at him. I know that’s random…and actually, it might have been more productive because when I started to scold him the started running to the sofa…

…the only problem was that Harley was NOT DONE PEEING! So I chased him throughout the apartment yelling at him to turn off the faucet. Dis-aster.

I just wanted to concentrate on Mens Rea and not slash around in a pee slip-n-slide!

After mopping and spraying down the entire apartment, I grabbed the dog, threw him in the car, and booked it to Wal-Mart.

Harley’s now the proud new owner of a kennel.

He goes in there willingly so half the battle is over. I’m super-excited that I can leave books out now without the fear shredding.

Horrah!…now back to Mens Rea…

May 10th, 2009

Best Week Ever #16: yellow love and the creep

I think that thing they call spring is here.

The grass started turning green a month ago, but the trees have remained leafless – until this week. Sometime overnight all the trees decided to blossom.

It’s as if the mayor pressed some secret spring button.1

I feel like I’m in some parallel Paula Dean Garden universe. I got so used to winter that I forgot that there are other seasons…

Harley and I spent the week exploring the extensive park system in the neighborhood. The amount of parks, lakes, and nature trails surrounding downtown is ridiculous.

I suspect I moved back to Germany and no one has told me yet, especially when I look at the Fachwerk houses in the neighborhood:

I need to stop bringing coffee on these walks. The same thing happens every time: I start the walk with a cup of coffee and when we are 4 or 5 miles from home I realize “oh shit, I need to pee.

This is of course the point when Harley gets tired and is all, “wait, why are we rushing all of the sudden?”

He then decides that every tree, squirrel, and gardener is worth inspection.

My bladder starts crying…and disaster strikes.2

And don’t be fooled by the “Minnesota Nice” stereotype – even Minnesotans will give you filthy looks when you’re raging down the street, screaming “GOD DAMN DA COFF-FAAAY!!!” while grabbing your crotch and dragging a 100lb dog…

There have been plenty of times this week when I’ve wanted to scream upon getting home. Harley has started trashing the apartment.

I tweeted about the destruction and was directed by @Karpul to this article on the Humane Society Website. The topic? Dog Separation Anxiety. The gist? He’s destroying the apartment because he misses me and loves me.

Now before you say “awe” remember I am not seeing love when I’m cleaning up shredded novels marinating in puddles of piss.

No. That ain’t love.

And of course the article says scolding the dog will ONLY MAKE IT WORSE!

Well… crap!

You mean I come home to a destroyed, pee-soaked apartment and I can’t bitch at anyone? This is supremely unfair.

And the most ridiculous thing is that Harley didn’t start this chaos until recently. I guess that means he didn’t like me enough before…

In order to help him adjust, I decided to study at Dunn Brothers today. I left Harley a pork bone and hoped for the best. Of course he completely demolished the kitchen – broke dishes, dragged the trash everywhere, and then pissed all over the front door.

And no, he did not need to pee – we had gone on a two hour walk this morning. Minneapolis is perfumed with this dog’s pee. It was pure spite…or according to the humane society, yellow love…

One redeeming thing about Harley is his “don’t mess with me or I’ll eat you” size. He even keeps Meth Molly away.

However, Harley’s size did fail to keep the crazy away this week – we were walking in Uptown (on Lyndale) when I saw this sketchtastic guy sitting at a bus stop across the street.

He was bald, pasty-white, emaciated, and had no eye brows ala Alexander Litvinenko (or Powder) and of course STARING RIGHT AT ME.

So I smiled politely and directed Harley down the street. Of course a few blocks later I see that powder had crossed the street and was storming down the sidewalk right behind us! I have seen waaay too many zombie movies for this to be okay. Seriously, this guy looked like the last day of chemo…or day 28

So I took a sharp turn and literally RAN down the block as much as I could before he made it to the corner. What the hay…

The sprint worked, but I ran into the creep at another bus stop on Hennepin. He glared at me from across the street. I wondered if Harley would catch whatever that guy had if Harley decided to eat him…

In addition to running from zombies and cleaning up pee, I took my first final exam this week. The subject was Property, and it was not as horrible as everyone expected. My only grief is that there were NO future interests/estates problems! Not a single one!

All that time spent on learning the vesting categories? A waste.

The $20 I spent on the supplemental future interest book? An utter waste…especially since I barely looked at the book…

Tomorrow is my Criminal Law Final, and Friday is Corporations. Crimlaw is strangely pleasant to study…which is odd given how incredibly dull that class was…

I’ve also spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about “what kind of law I want to practice” and decided that it’s a silly question. I am not so limited in my interests that I wouldn’t be perfectly content practicing in most fields. I know that seems sacrilegious to say, but I don’t think I’m the only person who likes law enough to be happy in most fields…

Heck, I think most students at my school would be open to most areas of law. And most of us feel silly when lawyers (and parents, and friends) ask us what field we want to practice in, since the first year of law school gives us no clue of what private practice is actually like.3

There are a few former Business School kids and future public defenders who know exactly what they want to do (to the exclusion of all other opportunities) but most of us have no idea…

The real question is what type of firm will hire me? I love my school, but I’m aware of its limitations. UMN is reputable enough that nearly everyone will pass the bar, but not so prestigious that everyone will have a job upon graduation.

I have decided that the answer is not to claw my way into the top 5% since even biglaw has its problems.

The point (for me at least) isn’t to get a prestigious job just because that’s what everyone else is doing. My goal is to have a career that allows me to do challenging work and pay off my student loans before I’m 40.

…oh, and a job that allows me to afford dog training…since I’m sick of this yellow love business.


1 I’m pretty sure it’s between the “easy” button and the Taco Bell button.
2 And I can’t tie him up and run into a coffee shop or something because I always feel like a horrible dog owner doing that… plus I’m sure there’s some sort of ordinance against that.
3 I think that’s why next year’s 1Ls will be required to take a “work of the lawyer” course.

April 20th, 2009

Best Week Ever #13: Changes & Drama

The end is near! This past week was the week of changes and drama. Finals are creeping closer and so is the law review petition…

Oh and classes are still going on apparently. Most of my section has become impatient with classes. Here’s a rundown:

  • Crimlaw is a waste of time. Even the “nice” girl has stopped reading Crimlaw and simply outlines during class. We can tell that our professor is extremely knowledgeable, but he is a thoroughly inept teacher. Our professor is also late for almost every class. What the hey?The whole Crimlaw experience is exacerbated by Billy Scratch N’Sniff. Scratch N’Sniff (SNS) is a boy from the other section who spends the entire  class period scratching his nether regions. Yes, even during the double-session we had on rape. Actually, the sex crime topic prompted an unusual amount of participation from SNS…it was bizarre. And yes, he was scratching as he opined about rape. The horror
  • Corporations has really picked up. Several of my friends refused to take corporations because of Professor M’s verbal ticks1 but the professor has really relaxed and the stuttering has almost disappeared. The class is usually amusing, with Professor M taking plenty of pot-shots at the Delaware courts. I love it.
  • Property is a death march. I really like the subject but the class has become tedious. Professor P has a stiff, mechanical style and is relentless when questioning students.It’s really painful to watch. When a student doesn’t know the answer to a question, Professor P simply repeats the question. Over, and over. Have you ever seen two kids do that, “Yeah-huh, nuh-uh, yeah-huh” bit? That’s how questioning feels in Property. Today’s class was especially brutal. please let it be over soon…
  • But there is always Civil Procedure. I have been preaching the gospel of Professor V since last semester, but most of the section hasn’t come around until this semester. Professor V is the best professor ever and has amazing powerpoints. Today’s slides started with a Yogi Berra quote. Past classes have featured Diana Ross and Anna Nicole. I love it…although we’ve spent so much time on Erie/Hanna analysis that it better be on the exam…

On Thursday I was the distraught 1L in computer services when my laptop suggested that OneNote had deleted ALL OF MY NOTES. Yeah. I was almost the kid howling “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” in the study carrels. My laptop then proceeded to do this:

Unacceptable. Everything turned out alright, but I could have done without the 20 minutes of remmidemmi…

Things in the Gamma house have deteriorated ever since the trashing. The housemates are divided into two camps. People are pissed off and it is getting hard to be civil to Slovenly Housemate.

I tried really hard to be accommodating. But I’ve had to walk over too many beer bottles, pizza boxes, and Coke Zero cans. Slovenly’s friends are also annoying people and over WAY too much.

Charity stops here. I’m pissed off.2

There is going to be a contested election for house president within the next two weeks, but I’m done. I’m moving out after finals. I refuse to live in filth.

I visited an apartment building today that I’m probably going to move into. There were two apartments for rent. The first unit was a dank place on the bottom floor that rents for $575, and the second unit was a huge place on the top floor that rents for $650 a month.

The problem is that the huge apartment is…well, huge. Like, “I entertain” huge.

I’m negotiating a lease right now. We’ll see how it goes.

The building allows dogs, which is crucial. I need a canine running partner.

I arrived for the apartment showing a bit early so I stood outside of the building while talking on the phone. While I was on the phone, a lady left the apartment building with two small dogs.

I was on the phone with Jack  and mentioned that the humane society has a lot of pitbulls on its website. My main concern is that a formerly abused pitbull is going to have a flashback and rip my throat out in my sleep. EXTRA: MINNEAPOLIS LAW STUDENT MAULED TO DEATH. DUMBASS ADOPTED AN ABUSED VICIOUS DOG.

Of course potential-neighbor-lady overheard this and started writing down websites where I can find non-throat-ripping dogs. She then detailed the various substance abuse3 problems of the tenants. It looks like it’s going to be an interesting experience…

This was definitely the week of changes. In addition to the apartment hunt, I gave up Splenda and started running because I signed up for a marathon. The marathon is in October, but I’m training now. My first run was 3 miles. The next morning I was so sore that I thought “OH MY GOD I BROKE MYSELF!”

I bitched at myself for a good half hour before I went back and ran 6 miles. The 6 miles were not as painful as I expected. Running is a great people-watching opportunity. The funniest thing I saw was a gay guy walking a pair of chihuahuas.

How do I know he was gay? Well, besides the Juicy Couture sweatpants he was wearing… there was also the fact that his DOGS were sporting pink camouflage hoodies. Diva please.

I had two “Diva Please” moments at bars this week because I was mistaken for a 32 year-old TWICE.

I’m actually 22. I think it’s the beard that does it.

Ah well. Age is overrated, as Sloven Housemate has proven…


1 Professor M used to string together “uh, uh, um, ers” … he never went over six in a row though. Yes, we counted.

2 I refuse to lecture someone who is OLDER THAN ME about “how NOT to be the dirty irritating housemate.” If you haven’t learned how to respect your peers by college, then you have some deep character flaw that’s not getting fixed any time before your wife serves divorce papers on you…

3 Sounds like a UMiami dorm…

April 3rd, 2009

Billy’s Learned Hand…

The social inappropriateness in my Crimlaw class reached an entirely new level of awful yesterday.

Jill appeared very distraught in yesterday’s class. She kept switching between laughing and looks of utter disgust. At times, Jill shook so hard with laughter that she rattled her desk.

I facebook messaged her:

Me: What’s wrong?
Jill: The guy sitting next to me! The angry, serial-killer-looking one from the other section…
Me: You mean Billy Bohaha? What about him?
Jill: LOOK AT HIS HAND!

I look over and realize that only one of Billy’s hands is on the desk.

Me: Uh, What is going on?
Jill: Billy has been scratching his balls for the past 20 minutes!
Me: What-what? Who does that? OH MY GOD…it’s like he’s mining!
Jill: I can’t even look at the overheads because every time I turn that way I burst out laughing! This is NOT happening!

But it is happening, Jill. But it is…

Billy scratched his crotch for the rest of Crimlaw, to the great amusement of the class.1 I think we should start an itch-cream fund.2


1 The professor was probably wondering why so many of us were snickering.
2 This is a prime example of how some students have no conception of appropriate classroom behavior. There is an unusually dense concentration of these people in my Crimlaw class. They are shunned accordingly.

March 28th, 2009

Is a Mask enough?

From my Crimlaw class:

Professor R: “Is a buying a mask enough to be in the possession of a materials to be employed specifically designed for an unlawful use?”
Jill: : “No. Maybe it’s Halloween or something.”
Professor R: “Well, that’s right. You can use a mask for a lot of things. I just to have a colleague that taught Criminal Procedure in a Nixon mask…”

March 27th, 2009

Jill is harsh

Jill is kind of a bitch. This just happened in Crimlaw:

Professor R: “I want to schedule a makeup class for April 28 at noon. Does anyone have any conflicts with this?”
Jack: “I do! I do! There is some lunch thing with potential employers on that day.”
Jill (loudly): “Don’t worry. You’re not going to get hired anyway!”

March 13th, 2009

Jill’s bloodlust

Another day in the Circus (aka Criminal Law). The topic1 is police power to shoot a fleeing suspect:

Professor R: “Is this an incentive for the suspect to run? Often the suspect is younger, doesn’t have heavy equipment, and hasn’t been to the doughnut shop as much…”
Jill: “There’s a middle ground! You don’t haveta shoot him! You can taser him, or beat him with a baton!”


1 The leading case is Tenn. v. Garner, 471 U.S. 1 (U.S. 1985)

March 9th, 2009

When Charity Fails

March 6th, 2009

Upon bizarre facts…

This week’s Crimlaw cases are just ridiculous:

May a person who enters the habitat of another at 3 o’clock in the morning for the announced purpose of killing him, and who commences to beat the startled sleeper’s bed with a stick and set fires under him, be entitled to use deadly force in self defense after the intended victim shoots him in the back with an arrow? Upon the basis of these bizarre facts, we hold that he may not, and instead, must suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune (with apologies to William Shakespeare and Hamlet, Act III, sc. 1).

Continue reading “Upon bizarre facts…” »