Disclaimer: This article, though in the opinion section, will offer you no concise opinion on anything. If you are looking for insight or inspiration on a certain topic, please look elsewhere.
So I was sitting around this morning pretending to read the newspaper, because that’s what I do when I want people to think that I’m smart. Normally, I just stare vacantly at the page and replay old Burt Reynolds movies in my head until I feel like an appropriate amount of time has passed, then I turn the page and start all over again.
But today something strange happened; in the middle of one of the chase scenes from “Cannonball Run 2,” an article caught my eye.
It was about a guy who had been arrested for stealing computers in California, and while awaiting trial, he stole all the computers from the courthouse. After I had an appropriate amount of time to digest this information, I felt sufficiently prepared to form an opinion about what I had just learned.
Namely, that this guy is freakin’ amazing!
So amazing in fact that I am naming him the latest recipient of a little something I like to call “The Award for Excellence in the Field of Awesomeness.”
This is a very prestigious award bestowed upon something so truly amazing that it deserves to be recognized, even though it usually occurs in a situation not normally befitting such an endowment.
Before I go on, allow me to say that my friend Jeff spent literally months trying to find a trophy with a guy throwing a tear gas canister at police officers, but, sadly, he couldn’t.
So if anyone out there knows how to procure such a trophy, please let me know (firstname.lastname@example.org).
“The Award for Excellence in the Field of Awesomeness” comes from humble beginnings.
Initially it was to be awarded to the first person who, after a night of familiar relations, could send his mate to the bus stop in the morning with exactly half the fare. As you can see, I only hang out with men of class, distinction and a complete lack of conscience.
Sadly no one that we knew was this awesome or lacking of moral values. So we lowered our standards slightly and awarded it to a friend of ours for getting so drunk he peed the bed he and his girlfriend were sleeping in, after, of course, punching a hole in my wall and passing out in someone’s lawn and then walking to the hospital.
Anyway, the award has been passed around our social circle for acts of varying levels of awesomeness, most recently for being pulled over while driving under the influence, then openly admitting being drunk to the officer and still being allowed to drive home, sans DUI. (Note: I’m not encouraging drunk driving, and receiving the award has nothing to do with being drunk; it’s just a coincidence that most people receive it when somewhere between buzzed and obliterated.)
Miracles come in all shapes and sizes, my friends.
There has, however, been one thing since the inception of the award that has not sat well with me. Not only have I never been the recipient of the award, but I’ve never even been nominated, which I find to be a farce not seen since Metallica was passed over for the Grammy for Best Heavy Metal Record for Jethro Tull.
I would like to say that I’ve done plenty to be nominated (which I would list but the Collegian’s sense of humor can only be pushed so far).
Clearly, those in charge of giving me my rightful spot atop the elite few who qualify don’t feel it so.
So in the interest of not receiving any blame for my shortcomings, I blame the Collegian. (Only I would put my job security on the line in the name of humor.)
As many of you know, I write for the Collegian editors, who, it turns out, are slave drivers and will print anything they get their grubby little hands on. They care nothing of the talented writers who work so hard for them.
Well, I can’t take it anymore.
It’s always about you, Collegian.
“Where’s my story Kevin? Well when are you going to have it? No, I can’t give you an extension. Well, maybe you should have thought about that before!”
What if I don’t want to write this stuff, Collegian? Maybe I want to write about fuzzy, little koala bears, but you’d never know that, would you!
Sigh. it would be nice to know that you cared sometimes. You never ask how my day was, maybe I had a rough week; maybe Kevin is a little tired.
Collegian, I can’t stay mad at you.
You know you’re the only paper for me.
Kevin Dudley is a senior natural resources major. His column appears Tuesdays in the Collegian. Replies and feedback can be sent to email@example.com.