With the bar exam rapidly approaching, I thought it was time to give you a little Richardson guidance. Here is my list of Reasons Why You Will Pass the Bar (the Jordans) and my list of Reasons Why You Won’t (the Lebrons). Be honest with yourself. If you fit into the passing category, pat yourself on the back and grab a nice Colt 45 beer from the fridge and relax. If you fit into the Fail Category, grab the old Colt 45 handgun that your grandpa gave you and … well, you get the idea.
1 You went to a top tier school. You took a look at the passage rate, it’s damn near 100%. I think it was 99% at my school when I was studying for the bar. So go ahead and break down the numbers. If your school has 300 graduates, that means you only need to find 3 people that reek of failure. Take a whiff, can you sniff them out? Hint. One of them is the white girl with dreadlocks who doesn’t shave her armpits and mouths off to the professor, and to this point in her life has gotten by on being a good standardized test taker. Not this time. You’ll be seeing her begging for change on Haight-Asbury next time your visiting your Silicon Valley pals. The next one marked for bar death: one of your affirmative action classmates. Just pick one; don’t be a goddamn racist! And finally, the super-stressed-out gunner chick who has already started losing her hair. You might wanna start messing with her head a little. Take her out on a few dates, then dump her out of the blue. Whatever it takes to make you feel secure that there are 3 bigger losers than you.
2 It’s really no different from law school. You cram stuff in your brain right before your law school exams, you pass your exams, and then the info disappears forever. It’s the same in July, just more shit to cram in your brain. Think of it as Thanksgiving for your brain; just loosen the belt a little and keep shoveling the legal stuffing in there.
3 You have a large enough supply of Adderall. If not, better get some. Call your doctor. As long as you have some brain fuel that you can pop, snort or cook, do it. Do whatever you have to do. I promise you won’t get addicted to Adderall. Why? Because once you pass the bar, you’ll be able to afford cocaine.
4 You have no real life outside of studying for the bar. The reason people like JFK Jr. couldn’t pass is that they had too many good options other than studying. You don’t have a private plane or a gaggle of women to hang out with. So just stay home and buckle down and realize you are missing nothing. Nobody wants to hang out with you.
5 I passed the bar. True, I went to a top school and I’m smarter than you, but I really didn’t study that hard. I took one of those prep courses, did a couple of hours a day of work, and didn’t’t really start cranking till after July 4th. I went out every weekend to chase whores up until the last two weekends. So trust me, you’ll be fine.
Or you won’t, because you fit into one of these categories below.
1 Self doubt has crept in. You’re filled with it. You’re a weasel with a small pecker. You only got into law school because you had a high GPA. You’re not a good standardized test taker. The test is culturally biased. They’re gonna pick topics that you didn’t prepare for. You missed one BarBri class. Nobody is sharing the good outlines with you. Your allergies are gonna start acting up in July. Your girlfriend is gonna leave you. If you’re having these thoughts, you are fucked.
2 You really don’t care either way. You never wanted to be lawyer. If you fail this will be the sign that you should be doing something you actually care about with your life, like opening up a surf shop. If this is you, congrats, you’re a winner. (But this isn’t you and you know it.)
3 You’re destined to be a paralegal. When you look in the mirror you see underling. You see your future and it’s filing articles of organization and secretary’s certificates, and you’re okay with that. It’s what your genes have set you on a course for.
4 You always do better the second time around. You’re not really a first impression guy. Your first marriage failed. You made the mock trial team the second year. You convince yourself you’re like Joe Pesci in My Cousin Vinny. If not the 2nd time, then the 6th, but you’ll get it done. Just not in the next 5 years. There’s no rush.
5 You’re not a winner. Deep down you know it.