I am Smooth, and Super Bad

Don't think I can't see you, Richard T. Harbaugh. I see you over there, on page nine of the Reader Weekly. I see you staring at me. I see your jealousy, your desire to take over my spot on page eight. You may not have a picture with your column, which kind of ruins this clever little opening I have going, but I know you're watching me.

Watching me with your EYES.

Let's get one thing straight, Mr. Harbaugh: this page is mine. I am the Super Funklord of page eight, and I will not be unseated. The last two weeks, the editors have even put ads for Harley-Davidson motorcycles on my column's page. That should tell you how bad I am.

And when I say "bad", I mean "cool", the meaning made mainstream by the classic 1987 Michael Jackson song. So don't go turning my hip language around on me by taking the term literally.

I was always bad, but my ultimate badness has increased in the past few weeks. I am obviously gaining a reputation at the Reader Weekly for being "super bad". Three weeks ago, my column was on page 12. Now it's on page eight. I've moved up four pages in two weeks. I think it's clear my tendency for being a "total badass" has been noticed by Reader Weekly editors. As a result, my column has moved up quickly. If I keep my current pace of two pages per week, this column should be on the cover by January 9.

I must make preparations for moving to the cover. My personal column photo will have to be larger and of higher quality. I'll need a Pulitzer Prize-winning photographer, a quality hairstylist from one of the area's best salons, and beautiful young ladies to pose on the cover with me.

Why the ladies? Because sometimes I like to pretend ladies aren't repulsed by me. Plus, including beautiful ladies with me on the cover brings hope that I'll receive angry e-mails from ladies in women's studies courses, some of who may also be "super bad."

Super bad ladies are the best ladies of all.

Aside from the barrage of ladies it will bring for me, this column's move to the front page will also be helpful to you, the reader. Instead of picking up the paper and turning to page eight, thereby running the risk of having someone cool seeing you read it, you can just stand next to the newspaper display and read it discreetly.

So this is a win-win situation. All I need to make it work is some ladies. If any beautiful ladies would like to be slightly famous by pretending- in a photo- that they don't hate me, they can e-mail me.

I may get a lot of entries, so ladies should try to prove how badass they are in their message. In a week or so, I'll choose a few of the baddest ladies that contact me.

Once I have ladies willing to be seen with me in a public photograph, the editors of the Reader Weekly will have no choice but to put us on the cover. So e-mail me today, and let's get this thing moving. In a matter of weeks, the Reader Weekly will be bad, bad. Really really bad. You know it. You know.

And the whole world has to answer right now, just to tell you once again, who's bad.