Look to your left. Now look to your right. If all three of you are reading this article and just looked at each other, give yourselves high-fives.

Haha. Yeah. Also, three of you will live in a shitty apartment next year. Possibly together.

The Sun’s Public Editor Rob Tricchinelli has written a column for today’s paper (published right above me) about the interactions between the newspaper and our readers (adoring fans, as I like to call you). And I think that is a great idea, so I am going to take the Cornell route, and rip him off. I have absolutely no idea what he is going to write about, but I am just going to give you the straight dope about my interactions with readers.

For example, two weeks ago I wrote a column. A week later, I had something stolen from me. Vandalism or fan-mail? The jury is still out. Literally.

Do you know how expensive beef jerky is at Noyes? It’s not cheap. Actually it’s about $5, the same price as everything else at Noyes. Maybe their price scanner is broken, maybe they just like ripping me off. Either way, when I buy two types of beef jerky and spicy jalapeno chips for $15, it’s a special day for me. When I mix Evan Williams with Wegman’s brand cola, you know I’m gearing up for my special day. When I skip all my classes, it’s probably a day like any other. But it might be my special day.

FACEBOOK. OBAMA. FACEBOOK. OBAMA. OBAMA. ISRAEL. OBAMA FACEBOOKS ISRAEL. ECONOMY. FACEBOOK. ISRAEL. FACEBOOK. OBAMA. OBAMA. ECONOMY TWITTERS OBAMA TO FACEBOOK ISRAEL.

To get the most breaking stories, journalists have often gone places no one else would. Iraq. Iran. Bosnia. Bin-Laden’s hut. Some are not lucky enough to return, and their commitment and sacrifice to the written word is laudable.

Keeping these precedents in mind, I decided to do a little investigative journalism of my own. I risked life, limb and exposure of my IP address (and file share) to bring you the truth. In a way, I am ruining the story for you. Since I am writing this, you know that I came back safely. Yes, that is true. Physically, I am still intact. But I am not the same.

Tasked with unprecedented demand and no new beds, Cornell Housing (CH) faces great challenges in the coming years to place all students who so desire into on-campus housing.

And that is exactly how this article would start if it were a news item. However, this is my space, so I would like to give my angry opinion on the matter.

A few weeks ago I went to a party. Actually, this is highly newsworthy all in itself and I half-expect it to be panelized and editorialized. No, I jest, I jest. Seriously though, I was at a party. Proved all the naysayers wrong, didn’t I?

This was a pretty typical college party: slippery dance floor, frat boys who don’t know how to drink, and girls who don’t recognize me from this primo column space and therefore react negatively when I ask them what they think of my column. Oh, and of course there was a DJ, to spin the hottest tunes.

I need to speak up. A few weeks ago, I was robbed. There was no police report. There was no campus-wide alert letter to tell the student body that a Cornell Daily Sun columnist was robbed. My assailant is no better off, and (laughably), he claims that I am no worse off. In fact, he claims that this is a very special type of robbery which benefits me. And the environment.

This column made its humble beginnings with rants on coffee-drinkers and adjectives. I am proud to say that it has grown up and is ready to address more consequential issues.

Now I would like to outline three facts:

(1) Guantanamo Bay is an American Gulag.

(2) The Israeli initiative in Gaza is nothing less than an ethnic cleansing of Palestinians.

(3) Universities are a place for liberal minded hipsters with no sense of morals or direction who will cling to any fleeting cause just to increase their sense of self by the smallest of margins.

Do you see how important it is not to exaggerate things?

Being that I am incredibly poor and even more incredibly unemployed, I thought that Cornell students could benefit from some of my job-seeking wisdom. I will not make any illegitimate claims to job-hunting greatness, but let me just say that I have worked summers at a guitar store. Impressive, no?

The first thing that any good-to-great career counselor will tell you is that you’re going to need a great resume. And any great resume is going to start out with a great objective. For this step, it will be sufficient to reword the phrase, “please employ me so that I can pay my loans,” in as flowery a way as your sense of morality allows you.