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Reading Is Fun– Unless You’re Dead Or Blind

Note: This column was written during my junior year at the University of Wisconsin-Superior, and published in the Promethean.

I would like to start this column out on the right foot. That is my goal for this year– to make people happy in inoffensive ways. But since columns don’t have feet, and since I don’t have any sense, I’ll just print this highly inaccurate educational piece instead:

Did you know that you have to know how to read in college? Many students don’t. Because of this, over 85 percent of students at UW-Superior don’t know how to read. Like many students, I myself could only read braille in my first year at this college. Sure, I could ride the elevator splendidly, but there was little else that I could do. It’s time to stop this alleter illiterasee not educatedness, and start encouraging reading. I know what you’re thinking– “reading is for losers,” “reading is for when you’re 30” or “reading isn’t needed, I’ll just ride the braille elevator.” Well, let’s get the facts straight.

—Reading helps fight gingivitis.
—Knowing how to read is sexier than Elvis, long-stemmed roses and a van with a strobe light all rolled into one.
—When you’re reading you’re actually gaining brain cells, unlike when you’re sniffing paint……you’re sniffing paint right now, aren’t you?

So stop sniffing paint, and start sniffing books. If you are so inclined, you may also read them.

Since we’re already on the subject of education, let’s talk about something completely different. Hottest dating spot that no one knows about: the dirty plastic picnic table that’s chained to the curb behind the dumpster at Burger King. Ah yes, there’s nothing your dream date would like more than to smell the sweet scent of rotting garbage, and lucky for you, nothing smells more like rotting garbage than the diseased picnic table behind the dumpster at Burger King. This lovely cesspool of filth is both quiet (sludge and sewage have killed off all known wildlife) and safe (for some odd reason this giant stinky table of crap has been mistaken for an item that people would want, and has therefore been chained to the curb). After you get done at this happy spot, everyone will stare at you and your date as if you were the neatest thing since zippers on pants– though probably more because of the foul and unfortunate smell that will most certainly cling to your clothes for life. If all goes as planned, your date will smell so hideous that they will insist on taking a shower at your place, where you can steal their wallet and chuck their clothes out the window. Though maybe that’s just how all my dates end. Beats me.

If you have a crush on a certain someone who doesn’t know about it, and you’d like to take them to this romantic spot, stop by and see me at the promethean office, or e-mail me (pryan@acad.uwsuper.edu – e-mail no longer in use). Not only will I pick up the check at Burger King, I’ll also include a picture in my next column of you and your love at the table of love, as you look lovingly into the love-filled eyes of your lovely lighthearted lovable legal low priced lethargic and lackadaisical lover (if you know what all those words mean, shoot yourself). So e-mail me and get a free meal out of it. It’s just another attempt of mine to turn this column into the Jenny Jones Show.

As this article comes to a close, I’d like to remind you that at times you may read something here that offends you. Because of this, I am providing you with a sample hate letter. Feel free to use this letter whenever writing to give me feedback.

Dear Paul,
In your latest column, you said ______. Only an idiot would say ______. In fact, a _(profanity)_ _(small useless animal)_ with tourrette’s syndrome could write a better column than you. To be honest, the only way you’d ever become famous enough to get your picture on the side of a bus is if you got hit by one. I’d also like to inform you that buses drive down ______ street at _(time of day)_ daily. In closing, if I ever see you around campus, I’m going to kick you a lot in odd places.
see you on the bus,
_(your name here)_

I hope to see you all get involved. So until next time, keep writing in.


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