Nobody will read this article.This issue of The Mirror has been released on the Wednesday before Easter Break.
I’m banking that the majority of the student body will be heading home before this issue comes out since Fairfield isn’t holding classes on Thursday or Friday. This means that the eight of you that read this column won’t be around to pick up this issue since you’ll be on your way home to celebrate Easter Sunday.
With this being said, I figure that I can finally truly speak my mind about things I’ve been bottling up inside for some time. I think it will be both enlightening and therapeutic.
A serious pet peeve of mine is the whole “a man’s car is an extension of his penis” argument, but maybe that’s just because I drive a station wagon. No, it doesn’t have wood paneling.
I spent half an hour over winter break debating who posted better basketball stats in high school: Lebron James or Michael J. Fox as Teen Wolf.
I once bet a homeless man ten bucks he couldn’t do 50 one-handed push-ups. He then transformed into Rocky Balboa and banged out 55 pushups.
Just to add insult to injury, smoked a menthol cigarette with his other hand. It never occurred to me how a homeless man would be able to pay up on a lost bet, so I guess I’m admitting he outsmarted me.
I want to hire Jim Ross to follow me around and narrate my day to day activities, even just to hear him say “business is about to pick up, King…” every Thursday when I walk out of Mo’s with a 30-rack.
This weekend while playing “never have I ever,” I realized something frightening: I’ve never mooned anyone. Mooning someone has since replaced securing employment at the top of my list of things to do before graduation.
Anthony Catania ’07 has been bugging me all year for a shout out, so to spite the Big Cat, I’m shouting him out in the article that will likely be read by the least amount of people.
I went on a job interview two weeks ago and was asked if I ever cry. I scoffed at the question, telling the interviewer that crying is for sissies. Besides, I haven’t cried since I was 21.
Finally, let’s put any argument to rest: Team Balco will win the intramural softball championship this year, end of story.
Happy resurrection everybody!
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