Dearest readers, I have a confession. Ever since I learned of the weekly ‘Random Student Profile’ published in these very pages, I have longed to be its subject. But lo, as a paid employee of The Daily Orange, I am forbidden to be profiled. So it is written in our bylaws, the 1,000 Sacred Rules of Malchezadec.

Long have I stood on street corners, cleverly disguised as my alter-ego, the Hessian Werner von Beerchuggen, my enormous fake mustache flowing in the icy wind. ‘Oh!’ I shout, ‘vould that some brilliant reporter vould take down ze thrilling story of mine life!’ But somehow my plan is ever a failure. Perhaps a larger mustache is needed.

Wisely, though, I have decided to cease my trickery and cut right to the chase. For while a chronicling of my existence would surely be the most riveting yarn ever woven, only a great master of our language could see the tale through to its highest potential. Fear not, I have left the challenge up to the goodest word-user of our age: me.

(As I am a thoroughly busy man, I’ve no time to collect the requisite ‘facts’ for this article. All quotations are what I’m pretty sure people would have to say.)

Local lad is superfluously excelsior

by Seamus ‘Godsend’ O’Connor

After 18 years of being a child prodigy, junior magazine major and all-around stud, Seamus O’Connor finally arrived at the land of his destiny: Harrisonburg, Va.

‘I was so happy when Seamus got into James Madison University,’ said his mother, Karen. ‘He was finally doing what I had encouraged him to for so long: getting the hell out of my house.’

In his first year of college, Seamus accomplished a great deal, inasmuch as he managed to earn the disrespect of each of JMU’s 15,000 undergrads.

‘Seamus? I hope he’s dead by now,’ said Matthew Fenzel, O’Connor’s former roommate. ‘This one time, he called the RA on our beer pong party, just because he lost the pre-pong round of ookie cookie.’

Seamus transferred out of JMU after one year, citing poor satisfaction with the communications department and ‘frequent death threats.’ He gained acceptance to Syracuse University by applying under the alias ‘Hakkim Warrick.’ In fact, he was mistakenly added to the starting roster of the men’s basketball team, but was cut after six weeks, having averaged 0.0 points and 19 blocks per game.

The young genius then enrolled in the S.I. Newhouse School for Public Communications Who Will Apparently Take Damn Near Anybody. He joined clubs like Marxist Revolutionaries Dance Troupe and even landed a job at The Varsity.

‘Seamus was categorically and unequivocally the worst worker ever employed by this or any other commercial enterprise in the history of capitalism,’ said his former boss, who wishes to remain anonymous. ‘I even went so far as to place a bear trap outside his door, only to have my plan foiled by a stumbling drunken student. Once again, my apologies to the Henderson family.’

Where Seamus’ myriad of talents take him next is unknown. Some predict he will work closely with major political figures.

‘I hope they put Seamus in the same cell as Saddam Hussein,’ said Erin Hendricks O’Connor’s former hallmate. ‘His very existence is as deplorable as genocide.’

‘For rizzo,’ his mother added.

Published on February 7, 2006 at 12:00 pm