I'm going against the status quo, ladies and gentlemen, and refusing to write a farewell column, as to spare you, loyal Parthenon reader from reading convoluted text about my personal accomplishments during the last semester.
Even though the idea has indeed crossed my mind of how cool it would be for the Marshall community to read about how good of a DJ I am, and how I can remove a bra in five seconds on LIVE radio. I also thought it would be a bright idea to list my radio production awards, but alas, it isn't worth wasting valuable time that you, the reader, are applying to this fine publication. Instead...
I hate "popped collars." This new fashion fad is truly as annoying as the new "whistler" exhaust pipes people are putting on their cars, or even last Christmas' Clay Aiken special. Here we have men and women wearing perfectly fine shirts with collars, but instead of wearing them in the proper down position, they decide to "pop" them as if to say to the world "hey - I'm too lazy to iron my collar! I'm HIP!"
But of course, what do I know about fashion, right? My wardrobe consists of free radio station T-shirts and tattered blue jeans. I guess I'm no Gucci or Tommy Hill-whatever. For crying out loud, though, do we really want our children looking back at photographs of us in shirts with our collars not in the correctly stowed position? I know I don't.
I would rather be embarrassed by my on-air stunts, or drunken exploits in a certain television mascot suit. That's how I want my kids to refer to my college years - NOT my messy collars.
Have you heard that another embarrassment of our generation, Ryan Seacrest has been given a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame? I think he's responsible for "popped collars" and every other bad thing in American culture. Actually, I am a bit jealous of him, simply because he's taken so many media jobs from me and my fellow starving DJs. Heck, he has the most coveted radio job in America, hosts one of the most "popular" television shows, and is an all around tool. To protest, I etched my name in some wet concrete on 4 1/2 alley yesterday afternoon. I'm famous, so now Huntington's hobos and other high-class individuals can appreciate my fame for years to come.
Honestly though, we have enough bad fads to apologize for 20 years from now, so why should we add to our generation's demise? Just put your collars down, back off the facebooking, and have a good summer. Stimeling-OUT!
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