Don't I know you? Mayoral candidate Brad McCauley
If I were to run for mayor of Tempe, my speech would go a little something like this:
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If I were to run for mayor of Tempe, my speech would go a little something like this:
Long before Jayson Blair made everyone hate journalists, there was this other freak named Stephen Glass. Glass was a burgeoning young journalist working for The New Republic, the magazine known as the in-flight magazine for Air Force One. Like his evil spawn, Jayson Blair, Stephen Glass botched a number of his stories and was brought down by an outside team of real heroic, awesome journalists.
Richard Simmons had it wrong all along, and I'm not just talking about those sparkly Hooters shorts he wears all the time. I'm talking about Sweatin' to the Oldies: What a boring waste of time. Perhaps if he'd met Mike Rak, Richie would have learned that Oldies ain't got nothin' on Dance Dance Revolution.
Between school, editing at SPM, applying for internships, having a boyfriend and trying to catch the occasional episode of Queer Eye for The Straight Guy, sometimes I get overwhelmed and frustrated that I'm not getting enough "Joy Time."
He's good enough he's smart enough and gosh darn it conservatives hate him
After the adventures I had trying to find a subject for my column last week, it was a relief to run into Sam Holdren, the LGBTQ (Lesbian, Gay, Bi-sexual, Transsexual, Queer) Coalition facilitator at National Coming Out Day on Hayden Lawn Thursday. I was there for the pizza, he was there to celebrate being queer.
Every week writing this column is an adventure. Photographer Matt Garcia and I put on camouflage fatigues and crawl around on our stomachs until we make a surprise attack on our subjects. OK, that's a little bit of an exaggeration - we don't crawl - we just hide behind trees. Anyway, I have observed a lot of interesting phenomenon from these covert operations. For instance, ASU President Michael Crow doesn't act too crazy when you see him walking and you yell, "What's up President Crow," across the courtyard. Also, the LGBTQ facilitator, Sam Holdren, really likes to smack my ass and I think I like it.
Have you ever had that dream that you're flying...on your bicycle around the Memorial Union fountain? OK, maybe not. For 21-year-old undeclared junior Kyra Steinbach this dream is a reality. Steinbach spends her time gracefully balancing on her bicycle through campus. She just might blend in with the rest of the horde except for her technique; roll along, roll along and then out of nowhere she gracefully spreads out her arms and flaps them languidly up and down as her long brown hair blows in the wind. She appears to be flying on her blue cruiser bicycle.
If stealing attention is a crime, Ryan Britt is the smoothest criminal of them all. Britt, a Mesa Community College student transferring to ASU in January, spends his weekends crashing parties with Michael Jackson's Greatest Hits in hand. With great stealth and dexterity, he makes his way to the CD player and pops in his CD. And, in the amount of time it took for Jacko's hair to catch on fire in a Pepsi commercial, Britt has made his own dance floor and gathered his own crowd to watch him moonwalk, spin around, hump the floor and grab his crotch. OWWWWWW! Sometimes he'll stick around to shake hands or talk about his techniques, but other times he moonwalks outta there before you can even say, "Sham-on."
Seriously guys, this guy's last name is Root. It's as if he was practically ordained by the guys of irony into being a world-class sports fan. Phil Root has probably incited more waves and been featured on the Jumbo-Tron more times than the whole college of education combined. If you've ever been to an ASU football, baseball, or basketball game you've probably seen Phil. He used to sport a multi-colored Mohawk, but recently cut it off because not only is he doing observation for his secondary education degree, but he is also assistant coaching for Chandler High School's junior varsity football team.
You've probably seen Blue Swadener around campus dozens of times, but you may not have actually seen her. That's because when she is making her most bold statements: Blue is in Black. As a member of a local chapter of Women in Black, an international peace network with chapters from Arizona to Azerbaijan, Swadener participates in demonstrations in which dresses from head to toe in black clothing and silently hands out information regarding peace and nonviolent solutions to the world's problems.
It's 12:45 on Wednesday afternoon and "Fat" Tony Jackson is in the thick of "The College Rock Show," his weekly show on ASU's radio station, AM1260 The Blaze. He drops a wooden dowel, double the length and the same width of a pencil, from his mouth, and leans in toward the microphone.
My freshman year, this totally hot guy came to my door selling pizza coupons. I was smitten and I bought them. When I realized I had been ripped off, I got a refund and hoped that coupon boy would never find out.
If you've ever been to a party, or a bar, or a hookah bar, you've probably met Max Kafka or someone like him. He's a dark-haired, blue-eyed, Irish-Jewish frat boy who has taken flirtation and conversation and turned them into an art of sorts. SPM, who is already spoken for, met Kafka on a recent Friday night at Casey Moore's. SPM was flattered and intrigued and decided to find out a little bit more about this fellow just in case any of our friends might be interested one day.
Whether you're a spanking new freshman recruit or a crotchety sixth year senior, chances are you have had a conversation with Diana Romberg. You've probably asked about wireless Internet access or what the difference is between LAN and ISP. But have you ever really stopped and asked who this fountain of knowledge is? What are her hopes and dreams? Where does she buy those awesome red tennis shoes? Well, fret no longer - SPM found her hard at work as always at the information desk, which is today festooned with plastic horses, in the dead center of the entrance to the computing commons.
Old man take a look at my life I'm a lot like you. Yeah Neil Young, you and I have a lot in common. I too was in a band with three dudes named Dave, Steve and Graham until I decided to ditch them and write a couple of decent songs about the civil rights movement, and then got old and perform a couple of times with Eddie Vedder, but mostly got old and wrote a bunch of whiney boring songs.
Oh, Kevin Costner - even though he's made some real stinkers in the past few years. Waterworld pretty much sunk, The Postman was probably the reason for all of those crazy mailmen, and 3,000 Miles to Graceland made people want to run 3,000 miles from the movie theater.
Once upon a time, [in 2002] the Einstein Brother's Bagels in the Memorial Union was an art gallery. The same space where students flock daily for their noon carbohydrates rush was once a quiet hamlet of paintings, sculpture, and sometimes a little decent piano music. As someone who spent a lot of time hanging out in the old gallery, Daniel Braha, was taken by surprise the first time he saw the change.
Eric Gerwitz has a fever, and the only prescription is more cowbell.
What the world needs now is Funk, Sweet Funk. At least, that's what George Clinton, the neon-dread-locked Godfather of Funk, would suggest.
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