Ah, do you smell that?
NO, not that!
That. It’s the smell of a brand new year, and a new beginning. Horse poop! Yes, it smells like horse poop.
If you think a new year brings with it any less crap than the year before, stop watching Oprah – now.
Anywho, with that being said, I would like to welcome you back to another fine semester here at dear old LS and U.
We have a lot to celebrate. After all, we are the NCAA Football co-National Champions, and I say co-champions not because I recognize and respect the AP vote to make USC National Champions, but simply because every time I think about it I am overcome with the strange urge to whoop Pete Carroll’s ass in friendly game of Trivial Pursuit: The DVD Edition, and I like that feeling. (I just used three conjunctions in one sentence. I don’t think you can do that, but I just did – eat that, Carroll!)
There are other things to celebrate I’m sure, I just don’t know of any.
Oh yeah, we’re going back to the moon. Party time!
Yep, George W. says our intelligence tells us that Osama Bin Laden hasn’t been hiding in the rugged lands of Afghanistan after all, but we now have reason to believe that he and a few of his cronies have been living the easy life on the shores of the Sea of Tranquility.
Michael Jackson is a pedophile? No way! I don’t believe it. I can’t. He’s just so normal.
Give me a break. The man’s got an estate named Neverland Ranch. The place is crawling with lost boys searching for their marbles. Watch out! Here comes Captain Hook.
And another thing to celebrate is the marriage and annulment of Louisiana’s own Britney Spears and that guy.
The guy is from Kentwood. No disrespect to Kentwood, I love the water, but damn!
Britney, you are a superstar, raise the bar a little, sweetie.
Oh but wait, it was just a joke.
It was just a mere publicity stunt to get you back in the spotlight, wasn’t it Britney?
You and Pete Rose can steal some thunder.
Just 20 days into the New Year and all this already.
What’s next? Will Louisiana inaugurate a woman Governor?
Holy crap! It’s happening; the world is ending.
Nostradamus was way off. 2004, baby, the year of the great fires!
Joking, Blanco’s a cool broad. I’m sure she’ll do fine. (Fashion tip: Kat, no more red suits sweetie, they makes you look like one of those talking M&M’s.)
So I think that gets us all caught up.
Tune in Friday when I’ll explain how everyone’s got a price, but until then… happy book shopping.