After four semesters as a Daily Orange humor columnist, my time has come to graduate and move on to bigger and better things. I don’t know what those things are yet, but I assume they come in the mail with my diploma. I hope one of them is a job.

In my time as a Daily Orange columnist, I have witnessed world-changing events, met with top political leaders, witnessed firsthand the birth of galaxies and lied about everything in this sentence.

I’d like to think that my columns have served the common good by pointing out common idiocies: Frisbee, Katie Couric’s ‘journalism’ and above all, leggings and Uggs. I can consider my entire college career a success if I have convinced even one girl to put some damn pants on.

Ironically, my single goal upon entering college was (quoting from my Xanga here): ‘Convince even one girl to take her pants off.’ I mean, I think I even put that in my admissions essay for Syracuse. Well, you can’t win ’em all. Know what I mean, football team? Yeah, you know.

Many have asked how I come up with my material. Much like my mentor Winnie the Pooh, I start by sitting on a log and tapping my forehead, saying, ‘Think, Pooh Bear, think,’ then consuming a large pot of pure honey. Then I spend the next six hours vomiting violently, swearing never to touch honey again. Finally I type ‘jokes’ into Wikipedia and spend eight minutes copy-and-pasting. Voila!

This is known as ‘the editing process.’

It really has been a pleasure and an honor to write this column every week. Nothing brings me more satisfaction than bringing joy to my fellow students-except bringing scorn to people who really deserve it, like vegans. If you really think eating meat is so cruel, why don’t you go explain it to a grizzly, face to face? Don’t worry, when he devours you, we’ll all hold a ‘Stop Hate Crimes by Bears’ rally.

Ah, college.

If anything, what I’ve learned as a columnist is that every person is special and deserves respect, except humor columnists. Seriously, earlier this semester I wrote a piece about my goal in life of harpooning 361 whales in 24 hours. The only reason that didn’t make it to print is because my editors had enough sense to put a hammer to my skull and ghost-write something about the marching band, which I understand was well-received.

(For the record, and this is true: The marching band got their revenge by singing the ‘Hey Song’ to me on the front lawn of The Daily Orange house last week. I guess O.J. really is the only man fast enough to escape justice.)

Anyway, I would like to think that someone would pick up the banner of Yellow Journalism after I leave, so if you think you’ve got what it takes to be our next humor columnist ($30 made out to Seamus O’Connor O.B.O.), e-mail some of your best work to the address below. I could use some material to get started in the professional world.

Seamus O’Connor considers himself the luckiest man on the face of this earth, and there’s not even a disease named after him so far. E-mail him at seamusoc@gmail.com.

Published on December 4, 2006 at 12:00 pm