2008 Woodie Awards
'Sunny' columnist returns to rock the boat
By Colin McGuire
Rocket Life/A&E Editor
Issue date: 1/20/06 Section: Life
Egotistical, crass, anti-American, stupid, inappropriate, unnecessary, ignorant, mean, ridiculous, rude, and of course, the one I enjoyed seeing the most - wrong. What are these words you ask? No, they aren't a laundry list of adjectives that describe how you truly felt about your roommate during your freshman year, these are all words used to describe none other than yours truly.
Hello. For those of you who may or may not know, or care for that matter, my name is Colin. I used to write a column for this newspaper during the first semester of last year. Some people liked it, some people hated it, some people loved it, and some people threatened to kill me.
I wrote about things that you didn't want to hear about for reasons that may never be known. But I mean, come on. How was I supposed to know that the things I was saying would offend as many people as they did? How was I supposed to know that local businesses would threaten to pull their ad money? How was I supposed to know that my thoughts and views on this unjust war being fought overseas would incite people to consider me un-American? How was I supposed to know that anyone even read this publication?
Those questions may never be answered but regardless, I hung up the gloves while I was on top. Since then, I have somehow moved up within the rankings and become the Life/A&E editor here at The Rocket, and I am to blame for those wretched page designs you have been seeing for the past year. Remember the one with a story that was supposed to be within the wheel of a wheelchair about a paraplegic comedian that came to SRU? Yeah, that was my fault.
So with that said, here I am, somehow once again. Now, does this mean I will stop writing about the idiots that make up 90 percent of this university's population? No. Does this mean I will keep my mouth shut when I see you with your gelled hair, pre-ripped jeans, and tight shirts doing your keg stands to try and impress the obnoxiously loud girl in the corner that swears she doesn't have a boyfriend? Of course not. And finally, does this mean that there is no way possible that I could ever have the audacity to offend anyone that would ever dare pick up this publication to read my simple little words on this simple little paper ever again? I really doubt that.
Now that I feel I have properly re-introduced myself and we have become re-acquainted with one another, I would like you all to know once again that this is my column. This is not yours. I am not asking anyone, including you, to read the words that I write. As I said in the first ever diatribe I published within these pages, if you don't like me or agree with me, you can easily turn the page, burn the paper, bomb my apartment, send me anthrax, or insert your own form of torture. These are only words now. Let's not have a big fuss like we did the last time we tried this, OK?
Now smile like you mean it. It may hurt if you don't.
Hello. For those of you who may or may not know, or care for that matter, my name is Colin. I used to write a column for this newspaper during the first semester of last year. Some people liked it, some people hated it, some people loved it, and some people threatened to kill me.
I wrote about things that you didn't want to hear about for reasons that may never be known. But I mean, come on. How was I supposed to know that the things I was saying would offend as many people as they did? How was I supposed to know that local businesses would threaten to pull their ad money? How was I supposed to know that my thoughts and views on this unjust war being fought overseas would incite people to consider me un-American? How was I supposed to know that anyone even read this publication?
Those questions may never be answered but regardless, I hung up the gloves while I was on top. Since then, I have somehow moved up within the rankings and become the Life/A&E editor here at The Rocket, and I am to blame for those wretched page designs you have been seeing for the past year. Remember the one with a story that was supposed to be within the wheel of a wheelchair about a paraplegic comedian that came to SRU? Yeah, that was my fault.
So with that said, here I am, somehow once again. Now, does this mean I will stop writing about the idiots that make up 90 percent of this university's population? No. Does this mean I will keep my mouth shut when I see you with your gelled hair, pre-ripped jeans, and tight shirts doing your keg stands to try and impress the obnoxiously loud girl in the corner that swears she doesn't have a boyfriend? Of course not. And finally, does this mean that there is no way possible that I could ever have the audacity to offend anyone that would ever dare pick up this publication to read my simple little words on this simple little paper ever again? I really doubt that.
Now that I feel I have properly re-introduced myself and we have become re-acquainted with one another, I would like you all to know once again that this is my column. This is not yours. I am not asking anyone, including you, to read the words that I write. As I said in the first ever diatribe I published within these pages, if you don't like me or agree with me, you can easily turn the page, burn the paper, bomb my apartment, send me anthrax, or insert your own form of torture. These are only words now. Let's not have a big fuss like we did the last time we tried this, OK?
Now smile like you mean it. It may hurt if you don't.
