Pimpin Aint Easy, But Graduating May Be Even Harder / The Way Things Sometimes Are " \ CF Miley, Opinions Editor raduation is quickly approach- ing, and I’ve got that ol’ “deer in the headlights” feeling. New fears have replaced old habits, a crushing debt load looms where my Freedom-35 plan used to be, and the prospect of get- ting work scares the bejesus out of me. Although living under an overpass wear- ing newspapers for pants and a shirt that says, “Touch of Class” sounds good in an Eels’ song, it doesn’t particularly appeal to me personally. To that end, I give you my ideas for how this “slice of life” opinionist will go about “gettin’ my earn on” after I gradu- ate. Maybe, Pll write a tell-all book docu- menting Martha March 9/2005 Stewart’s time in prison. Here’s a brief excerpt that I’ve been sending out to pub- lishers, trying to land that six-figure book deal that I so richly deserve. “Tt wasn't all lacey shivs and blueberry scones cooked in a shoebox wired with a 40-watt light bulb,” Stewart confessed as she gently stroked the large amorphous skull-with-dice-for-eyes tattoo that now graces her left forearm. “I joined the Pink Bitches my second week on the inside, because those filthy hoes ova in cell block C kept gettin’ all up in mah grill. Bitches were mad hard. They wuz all like, “Ohbhhh, look at tha Jresh meat. I'm gonna git me some of that,” and I wuz all like, “No you aint, Ho. Tell me you didn’t just say that. It’s on Muthafucka.” Stewart was then jumped, beaten into uncon- sciousness, and found lying in a pool of her own potpourri. “Afta that shizzle, I knew two things: I needed protection and I had to hit tha weight- pile mad hard.” From the look of her chiseled frame and huge pipes, Martha did indeed lift hard while in “tha hoosegow.” “Yeah,” she says, “I was pushin’ 220 fo’ reals Biggie Steels, y'know what I'm sayin’? You gots to be hard, Beeotch. Matta a fact, gimme your wallet, Ho. I gots this mad tip on some super-hype futures commodities-type shit, and I gots ta call mah broka.” Stewart then grabbed me by my hair and threw scalding hot coffee in my face because I “wuz movin’ slower than a 40- pound bird cookin’ at a 175 degrees.” Writing tell-all books isn’t as easy as it sounds. Instead, maybe I'll dye my hair snow white, grow a Kentucky-fried mustache and goatee, and stage a public-relations coup by bringing Rob Pilatus and Fabrice Morvan—better known as Milli Vanilli— back to the world. They'll call me Colonel Miley, and [’ll get the lads a reality show on Fox called The Biggest, Fakest Piece of Crap Ever. Since Rob Pilatus is dead, [ll have to Photoshop him into his scenes, but that shouldn’t be a problem. It'll be per- fect, actually. If Rob does anything wrong, I’ll just go “control z” to undo. The show will blend hard- hitting journalism with lip-synching contests, lap dances, and stock footage of various jungle animals Thousands of great deals every week! Vehicles, Sporting Goods, Pets... New Every Thursday! “doing it.” Between Rob and Fab hosting Charlie Rose-style interviews, we'll have features like “Make Your own Fake Dreadlocks,” and, “Synchronized Dancing for Dummies.” The show will be followed closely by the release of an album titled simply Re/urn, in which Gregorian chants will be mixed with nails on a blackboard and howling dogs. Once I’m filthy rich, Pll become a larger-than-life figure, alternating philan- thropy with a blend of hedonism that would make all four members of Motley Criie blush like nubile geisha girls. Pll bal- loon up to 385 pounds, fuelled by a diet of grits ’n’ gravy, taw steak, and huge quantities of the finest pharmaceuticals money can buy. I'll be admitted to Mount Sinai Hospital for an emergency quadru- ple-bypass, but mysteriously disappear 24 hours later. Vigils will be held across the globe and chat rooms will crash servers due to the insane amount of internet traf- Ye the Dealer: Upon receipt of this coupon toward the purchase of the specified product, Trader Classified Media will reimburse you the face value of the coupon plus regular handling. Application for redemption on any other basis may constitute fraud and will, 4 at our option, void coupon presented. Applications for reimbursement accepted from principals only. Mail to: Trader Classified Media PO Box 3000, Saint John, N.B. EZL 413. Expiry date: July 31, 05 Es ss 72707076 fic generated each time another “sight- ing” is reported. The US government will claim that I “never actually existed,” later reporting that I was merely “a weather balloon.” Speculation as to my existence, whereabouts, and meaning will rival porn and television as “the #1 procrastination technique for youth aged 14-34” for a brief period in 2007. If neither of those ideas pan out, I could always look for an “Editorial Assistant’s position in a fast-paced envi- with opportunity for advancement.” As an “energetic writer/editor whose dedication to craft is tivaled only by his passion for creativity,” I should be able to make at least 14 bucks an hour. I never thought getting bitch- slapped by Martha Stewart or having life-threatening heart surgery would actu- ally sound better by comparison. Shows you what I know. ronment www.theotherpress.ca 7