Freshman, don't forget to have fun
By ERIC CHIANESE | Aug. 15, 2009This following is an open letter to all new freshmen at UF.
This following is an open letter to all new freshmen at UF.
Dreams are probably one of my favorite things in the world. And, boy, have I had some doozies.
So I refuse to be the only one who doesn/t give my two cents about this Palin resignation.
So if any of you are like me, you're probably an incredibly lazy person. And I don't mean ordinary, run-of the-mill lazy - I mean you elevate it to an art form. There's nothing wrong with laziness, by the way, so don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Laziness - the desire to exert the least possible effort - has given rise to our most wonderful human ingenuities. If someone hadn't been too lazy to walk, we probably wouldn't have cars. If someone hadn't been too lazy to try and make a genuine connection with a woman, we probably wouldn't have such brilliant pick up lines as "Was your dad a baker, because your buns are out of this world!" The bottom line is that laziness keeps us sharp. Because of it we are ever-vigilant for the next thing that will make our lives easier and, in our own twisted way, richer.
There are those rare moments that, in one fell swoop, remind us all of the ephemerality and fragility of life and, generally speaking, those moments come after a loss. We have all just experienced one of those moments - only this time it dragged on for days. In the span of one week, we lost Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett, Michael Jackson and Billy Mays. All of them American icons and, now, all of them gone.
Just like the Corleones and the Tattaglias.
I sure hope that Minnesota can get used to being a congressional amputee.
Well, I thought I had it in me, but I don't.
Lately, and between reading entries on the Rotten Library, I have turned my attention to the criminal justice system.
An employee is leisurely stocking shelves in the supermarket one day when a man with a gun busts in. The criminal shoots the stock boy and then flees the scene. Another employee rushes to the aid of our hero, eager to console him. The stock boy looks up at his friend and meekly says, 'cleanup in aisle 7.'