Friday, May 7, 2004

The Steve McQueen of the Uniform Commercial Code

Three years of law school, thirty some odd exams, untold thousands of dollars, immeasurable vats of hate, and it is only now that I realize I should have been digging a tunnel out of here all along.

Now I must escape an exam or two and then my (ill-fated) motorcycle jump over the fence.

I’ll be damned if those fuckers are gonna take me alive (or in a gown and tam).

So screw graduation.

I’m going to go sit in my room, throw a baseball against the Goddamned wall, and prepare a series of mnemonic devices to help me remember the remedies available to a seller involved with a breaching buyer in a sale of goods when both parties are merchants specializing (or holding themselves out as experts) in the field of said goods.

Cue the fucking theme music:

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