Bugger, Bugger, Bugger

Just found out that I have a jurisprudence essay due this Friday. I must not have known about this because it must have been announced at one of the three seminars I decided to skive. Conveniently, I am also told that the major focus of the essay just happens to be the material covered in the aforesaid seminars. Somehow I always manage to do this to myself. It’s a sort of gift.

So, er, if anyone’s got (jurisprudentially informed) views on whether:
1. there is a right answer to every legal question, or
2. what function the notion of community has in the making of law,
I will be eternally grateful and consider naming my firstborn child after you (as long as you’re not called Prunella or Bubba or something similarly vile) if you send a few ideas my way.

[While we’re on the subject of my general crapness, I ought to write here and now that I had a productive power lunch today with Sabrina, where we tried to get our act together about our external moot in January (representing UCL at the Blackstone’s mooting competition), and I have to know something about incorporation of terms into contracts by December 28th so we can start assembling our cunning plan for world moot domination. Must not let Sabrina down. Must not let Sabrina down.]

[While we’re on the subject of my general malaise, I should also add that the only reason I’m typing this whinge right now instead of studying my arse off in the library is because we’ve all been evacuated due to what is apparently a fire emergency. This will, no doubt, give the little gremlins that live in the UCL library ample time to take the books I was using and hide them in Medieval Feminine Hygiene Products or some other ridiculously obscure section of the library. They do this frequently. I was hoping I’d foiled them today. Obviously not. Gah.]