Campus & Beyond Editor
The semester is wrapping up at USFSP, and bitter-sweetly, so must the cackles from this hen in The Crow’s Nest. This is my hen song. While most students are cramming to do a semester’s worth of work in two weeks, The Cackling Hen must formulate a proper farewell in roughly 500 words, which is now down to 440 and counting.
While most hens are confined to cages and sandwich buns, I’m beyond grateful to have hopefully entertained a few of you. If this column made you laugh just once at the expense of others this semester, my mission was accomplished. Lord knows the expense of others was the only budget I had, unless you also account for my two cents. I’m still waiting to be reimbursed by Chancellor Sullivan. If you’re reading, I only accept cash.
I would say, “All jokes aside,” but then writing or printing this has no purpose. So all jokes front and left justified, thank you to my loyal readers, commenters, and even spam commenters.
In case you’ve been living under a rock or new USFSP rug, here’s a glimpse at what you missed.
Sarah Palin is a fool and I don’t like her. Paris Hilton is a fool and I do like her. Britney Spears should be referenced when at all possible, from news articles to graduate school project presentations. An alarming numbers of readers don’t understand the word “spoof.” The Crow’s Nest’s small budget is almost funny. And most people on Facebook have annoying sharing habits.
Now that I’m half-finished and half-broiled with my final column, I’ve still said nothing at all. Hopefully it’s received like a Seinfeld episode and not a Sarah Palin speech. But reading about nothing is still more uplifting that stories on Pell Grant slashings or anything else about Gov. Rick Scott’s money launderings. Thankfully any sharp-taloned jokes I make toward our silly governor won’t be emailed to him – he’s opted out of that form of modern communication to join the ranks of my 86-year-old grandmother. Her most recent technological upgrade was the microwave. Our state’s in great hands.
To the public figures who have been making public fools of themselves, thank you. Without your antics, this column would just be another blurry advertisement for something I can’t afford. Maybe after graduation I’ll have the money and time for that massage or depression therapy.
Typically poultry is not part of USFSP’s graduation since plenty of other things can go foul without birds in the mix. Hung over girls in six-inch heels wearing long gowns attempting to walk up stairs are enough for the ushers to handle, but this year there will be a feathered hen, cackling away in an over-sized cap and gown, flying amok. But after two years of typing at a computer, ripping my feathers out, short breath and anxiety attacks, this little hen is going out with a bang louder than Chick-fil-A’s shot gun. Cackles may fly and feathers other than my own could be ruffled, but that’s what The Cackling Hen does. Call it inappropriate for formal events, but frankly, my dear, I don’t give a cluck.