The wrong way to write a cover letter:
I was pleased to discover, through my clandestine Alaskan network, that you have not finalized a new law clerk for the upcoming year. I hope you find this letter portentously post facto rather than unskillfully delinquent. I wish to spare you the unleavened hardtack of your sensible, standard cover letter and instead appeal to your irrational masculine avatar through a reflective vignette.
I grew up in suburban Kansas City in a perfect neighborhood on a perfect street in a perfect house.
My parents afforded me every opportunity and expected results. Laboriously, I molded myself into a surprisingly athletic, covertly academic, role player. The Dalai Lama might even have congratulated me on my stubbornly unconditional perspective. Adorned in a passion for the sciences, I followed the tracks to Lawrence, Kansas. Here, I learned to be a Jayhawk.
Bouquets of regimental red and yellow tulips line the campus boulevard like a million Kansas City Chiefs fans cheering you from class to class. Each sunny spring day in Lawrence, with dudes in shorts and sunglasses and ladies in short skirts, seemed a microcosm for the whole four years. The Kansas Greek scene made for an interesting cocktail, one part social one part societal jockey and only one ice cube to cool it down. I sipped confidently from this hearty libation. Overwhelmed by ubiquitous female beauty, animal instinct to succeed prevailed.