Oh my dear and lovely faithful Grinnell readers I must apologize for a great blunder I made in my latest installment of “Are you F’ing Serious.” It seems I have committed a crime so severe that the only fitting punishment would be to brand myself with the colorful title of this column. Perhaps you are confused currently, thinking to yourself, “ Whatever did she do,” but I gather that most of you are thinking, “I never read this shit anyway, and now I know why.” Well alas, my five loyal perusers of the S&B Opinion section, I would like to retract, metaphorically of course, my last article regarding the ever winning actor Charlie Sheen. For the few that liked it despite its poor choice of syntax, humor, and overall filling of space, thank you for your gracious attitude toward mediocrity. For the rest of you, the following is an ever true account of how I unfortunately pressed the send button to 700+ words of all things tiger blood and crazy.

It was the week before spring break, and like most Grinnellians I had again waited to the last minute to do most things. Of course I never planned to have a mountain of work to be sitting in front of me for the last five days before a two-week salvation that was desperately needed, but hey, sh*t happens. And so there I was, at the eleventh hour sitting at my stylish desk provided by Grinnell, trying to think of something to write. I had a number of topics to choose from. An ancient disease recently found at the PlayBoy Mansion held some promise. Something about ancient diseases juxtaposed with that bathrobe wearing geezer had the potential for a variety of insanely funny jokes. Not to mention the larger looming issue of female objectification and the lack of empowerment that comes from letting women be equated to “bunnies,” life’s furrier rodents. But after careful thought I poo-poo-ed the idea in search of something with a little bit more of a sensational flair.

My next idea actually wasn’t all that bad, but given the time frame of my deadline I knew I wouldn’t be able to fully address the many important points the argument could contain. Last year I wrote a paper for one of my GWSS classes regarding a potential reworking of the ways in which Grinnell has responded to the Hate Crimes in the previous years. I took at postmodern approach that in my ever so humble opinion was pretty damn good. But not satisfied with its limited reach only extending as far as my peers and professor of that class, I had pondered the idea of releasing my idea to the greater public of Grinnell. I truly believe that it’s not enough to poster a bunch of colorful signs that say safe space, but really only apply to groups that are marginalized in society as a whole. If Grinnell really wants to create a place where anyone can come and educate themselves, it needs to recognize that a decent portion of the student body come from backgrounds where the term queer has no meaning, where their own ethnic or racial identity is all they have ever known and where diversity merely means what choices you have when it comes to food. Then, and only then, if there is a space for everyone, can we prevent hateful outbursts that potentially come from an initial point of feeling confused by likewise being marginalized for the first time in their lives. Controversial, I feared that I wouldn’t be able to adequately craft my words at 3 a.m. in a way that would be understood by the masses. So again it was on to the next one.

My final idea revealed only now, would have been a long and ridiculous rant in which I addressed the problem that plagues Grinnellians everywhere: Where the F**K are the campus bikes! For many a semester now I have rushed down the steps and out my dorm hoping and praying my trusty black and yellow will be there to give speed to my stubby legs and whisk me across campus. But alas, whenver it seems I have found a trusty steed, it turns into a good for nothing, broken down, hunk of metal that would be better suited to be the centerpiece of some contemporary art sculpture than a mode of transportation. This potentially could be part of a growing problem of tiny humans that seem to be on the loose, but that is another article about kiddie leashes and the virtues they hold. But it doesn’t stop there, on the off chance I do find a campus bike its either when I am dressed to impress and am in no state to be struggling and potentially revealing the goods, or when I am already at my destination! What is that?! But the great amount of rage that began to build over this very sensitive topic made it clear, that a mini book on all things campus bikes isn’t the type of article the S&B wants to publish…maybe.

And so my academically and athletically gifted peers, I did the best I could…I sunk down to the bottom of the media barrel and came back up with Charlie Sheen. I know, I know…was I F’ing serious? Unfortunately, yes.