Doctors and teachers get to help people all the time. This isn't the case with comedy writers. But today I got to really make a difference.

This homeless guy walked up to me on the Michigan Avenue bridge and said, "Got any money for my Jack Daniels research?"

Better than, "Got any change?" for sure. Miles ahead. I liked the line. It was 90% of the way there. And I just filled him in on the remaining 10%:

"Not tonight. Oh, and the line should be, 'Would you consider making a donation to the Jack Daniels Research Foundation?'"

"Foundation," I explained, is key.

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I’m in New York for the week. My friend Hanna is starring in a one woman show, “The Sound of One Hanna Clapping,” directed by Ana Gastyer.

Last night I went to see a psychic just north of Times Square. She assured me that my plumbing business would progress “little by little, step by step,” and assures me that my dead ex-girlfriend is with God right now and that God needed her more than I did. She probably told me these things because I specifically asked about my plumbing business—the one I don’t have—and my dead ex—that I don’t have either…but I only asked about these things because the very first thing she said in my reading was that I was “a very honest person.”

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If you’ve seen my apartment, you know that I read lots of books. 95% of them are nonfiction. Because I have no soul, I suppose. The point is I feel qualified to share the following list with you:

1) EVERYTHING BAD IS GOOD FOR YOU by STEVEN JOHNSON

I know “Steven Johnson” sounds like a made-up name, but it isn’t. The guy is a very real, very clever (and, unfairly, very young George Clooney-looking) neurologist who makes a COMPELLING case that videogames, movies, and TV shows make you smarter. Or is he just telling me what I want to hear, validating my childhood…

2) SURVIVAL OF THE PRETTIEST by NANCY ETCOFF

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder? No it’s not. Says who? Says science. All documented by Etcoff.

3) JOKES by TED COHEN

This book which comes in at 86 pages explains why jokes are funny. Philosophers have been trying to do this for centuries, and Cohen succeeds where many others have failed. Plus, there’s a lot of funny jokes in here.

4) ABDUCTED by SUSAN A. CLANCY

Abducted sets out to answer the question, Why do some people think they’ve been abducted by aliens. And it answers it. No question about it. Explains every possible reason. And it’s got a kick-ass cover.

5) FLOPHOUSE: LIFE ON THE BOWERY by DAVIS ISAY and STACY ABRAMSON

This photo journal features the stories of several dozen of the hundreds of men who now live in the twenty-dollar per night rooms in the New York Bowery flophouses. Their stories are heartbreaking, simple, and real. Too real, sometimes, whatever that means.

6) WAS THIS MAN A GENIUS? by JULIE HECHT

Everybody seems to have lots of questions about Andy Kaufman, and Hecht seems to be the only one with any answers.

7) A TRIAL BY JURY by D. GRAHAM BURNETT

Right after this guy graduated from Princeton he’s called for jury duty in a murder trial and elected foreman. The guy takes really good notes during the trial, and here they are.

8) WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN? by THOMAS NAGEL

Best introduction to philosophy book ever. 101 pages. Easy reading. Bad cover, though.

9) THREE USES OF THE KNIFE by DAVID MAMET

This book is a bit too smart for me. So I keep reading it year after year, and every year I pick something new up. It’s about life, drama, and why artists create art.

10) ON POLITICS AND THE ART OF ACTING by ARTHUR MILLER

Few random quotes from this 85-page book: “No differtly than with actors, the single most important characteristic a politician needs to display is relaxed sincerity,” “What we want from leading men is quite the same thing that we demand of our leaders, the reassurance that we are in the hands of one who has mastered events and his own uncertainties,” “The most perfect model of both star and political leader is hat smiling and implicitly dangerous man who likes you.”

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Last week the majority of the band Tally Hall stayed at my apartment, which looked like this:

Today I bought a new short sleeve shirt and skinny tie combo, which looks like this:

I also bought this:

(1 Bonus point for the first blog reader to guess what it is.)

LASTLY, my apartment mates put this sign on their door, which is right across the hallway from mine:

The sign is clearly for my benefit. They clearly put it up to rub their happy marriage in my single face.(2 Bonus points to the blog reader who comes up with the funniest response sign I can put up on my own door.)

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The guys from the band Tally Hall are staying at my apartment over the weekend for Lollapalooza. They’re playing on Sunday, and I’m told I’ll get an “Artist Pass” that day, which will all but guarantee that I’ll be best friends with Kanye West by the end of the evening. (He performs Sunday at 8:00).

Last night we went to a party at the Hard Rock hotel and I had an awesome time. See, usually I have this ‘grass is greener’ thing where I always imagine that I should be at a different party, that elsewhere people are having more fun, that elsewhere, the people are prettier and more charming. But I’m nearly certain that last night I was at the best party in Chicago. The VIP section, too. Free tequila, coffee & vodkas, tattoos (took a pass on that one), Berry Chill yogurt, and hotdogs. Saw a few minor celebrities (most notably—for me, at least—the guys from the sketch comedy show Human Giant), and met lots of cool people: musicians, a few students, a model, a wanna-be model, and somebody who, for all I can tell, attends parties for a living. Which must be difficult. But something tells me…not quite as difficult as practicing law…

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I got through the bar exam. All twelve hours of it. All 200 multiple choice questions and ten essay questions. Answered all of them, and didn’t throw myself out the window or even cry at any point. But that’s pretty much the best I can say about my performance. The bar was tough. But the thing I keep telling myself is this: it was equally tough for everybody. Plus, it’s not like I have to get an A or a B on it. I just have to avoid being in the bottom ten or fifteen percent.

I have a lot to say about the bar, so I’m going to spread it out over three blog entries.

ILLINOIS BAR EXAM, PART ONE: SHEEP COUNTING EDITION

Let’s start with the night before. I got three hours and fifteen minutes of sleep. And know a lot of people like to claim that they get less sleep than they actually get, and it’s important that you know that I’m not one of those people. I actually got three hours and fifteen minutes of sleep before the bar. Wish I could tell you that I was studying, but I wasn’t.

I took two Tylenol PMs and drank two glasses of wine at 10:30. But I guess they didn’t do the trick. I got into bed at 11:30, but at 12:30, my heart was still racing. I tried everything I could think of to get it down, but nothing worked. Breathing exercises. Holding my breath. Reading a boring book. Sitting up. Stretching. Listening to southing music. Counting sheep. (Yes, I actually tried this. Stopped at seventeen when I could no longer conceptualize it.) Nothing.

At 2:30 AM, I called my mom. (3:30 AM Michigan time).

“I can’t sleep.”

“Of course you can’t.”

“I’m going to fail.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“Thanks, but that’s speculation.”

“See? Listen to you. ‘Speculation.’ You’ll be fine.”

My alarm clock read 3:30 before I finally got to bed. And then I woke up at 6:45. I wasn’t tired so much as I was in a trance. My eyes were bloodshot too. The mile walk to the testing center (at Northwestern’s downtown campus) woke me up a bit. And when I got to the building, I threw a few handfuls of cold water on my face.

I made it to the testing room fifteen minutes early and contemplated taking a ten-minute snooze. I wisely decided against it.

Stay tuned for more.

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The BAR EXAM is in just THREE DAYS (!), and this will be my last blog post until then so I’ll make it really good. That said, THIS happened to me tonight:

After a 40-minute cardio workout, I got ready to take a shower. But before I hopped in, I decided to wash this pot half full of soup that’d been sitting in my sink for over a week. I’ve been putting it off ‘cause it had green and white foam on it, and, well, I just assumed that if I left it next to the sink for long enough, somebody else would wash it for me. (Live alone, bad plan.)

Because I don’t have a garbage disposal, I decided that I’d toss the contents of the pot down the trash chute, which is just ten feet from my apartment. I put my sweaty underwear (boxer briefs) back on, took the pot to the chute….bumped into the door, which spilled some moldy soup on me…and then threw the rest down the chute. I walked back to my door…and realized that I had locked myself out.

So there I stood, nearly naked, sweaty, holding a still-moldy pot, and locked out.

F#*k.

After a minute or two of freaking out, I knocked on a neighbor’s door. And I don’t know who answered, but I know it wasn’t my neighbor. It was some girl. And after two minutes of awkward conversation, I convinced her to go down to the lobby and get the spare key for me.

HOPEFULLY the bar will go smoother than that. We shall see.

WELL, now that I’m going on a three-day blogging break, I just wanted to say thanks again to all who bought and read Lawyer Boy. If you enjoyed the book or are feeling particularly generous as you read this, it’d be great if you could do these things:

1) Email a friend or two about the book. Or mention it on your facebook/myspace profile. Or your blog. Or maybe get a tattoo of the Lawyer Boy cover on your forehead.

2) Go to Amazon.com and write a review of the book. A handful of jealous guys on the law school web forum LawSchoolDiscussion.com have been encouraging people to write bad reviews of Lawyer Boy on Amazon.com without actually reading the book. (And I implore you not to stoop to that level, only review if you’ve read.)

3) Wish me luck on the bar.

4) Have a great week!

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The bar exam is just four days away. I foresee one tiny problem…

I’ve been studying at the Barnes & Noble, every day, next to this lady who wears the same black and white dress every day and talks nonstop. At first it was annoying as hell, and I’d move away from her…but little by little, I’ve gotten used to her (usually socialist) nonstop blabber. Now I wonder whether I’ll be able to focus during the real exam without it.

But considering the fact that ibaby (the Illinois Bar administrators) doesn’t even allow test takers to bring cell phones into the testing site, something tells me they wouldn’t be okay with me bringing the study buddy lady along.

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