So, apparently you have some test to take next Monday. It seems like only yesterday that you ran out to greet the friendly FedEx delivery guy as he gave you your fresh set of Blueprint textbooks. It was a sunny day, and you waved across the street to Ms. Johnson, who was talking to the milkman as little Billy practiced his baseball swing in the front yard. “I never realized how corny my neighborhood was,” you thought to yourself, but nonetheless it was a hopeful time, and you said “Gee wiz! I’m going to be a lawyer in no time!” Fast forward 12 weeks to today. You’re woozy and now suddenly aware of how much this battle with the LSAT has taken out of you. Instead of waving to Ms. Johnson, you resist the urge to ask her why the f–k she still has a milkman in 2010.
I recently returned from a trip to Vegas. Well, actually, I returned about two weeks ago, but my wallet and my soul have just recently recovered.
Seeing as I am unable to ever completely shake the LSAT out of my brain (even after twelve beers at the pool and too many tequila shots to recall), I kept noticing that people use some pretty flawed logic inside the hallowed walls of those casinos. I know that might sound shocking since we normally equate Vegas with rationality and profound intellect, but let me give you a couple examples.