A brief word about convocation. Yes, it’s a milestone, a celebration, whatever. But holy fuck, is it boring! Four hours of blah blah blah interspersed with tepid organ music.
Then: an envelope, containing your diploma, dispensed from a Rubbermaid storage bin. Where are the can-can girls? The marching bands? The home-run fireworks? Give it some pizzazz, I say!
So. In order to make what should be a joyous occasion a little more fun, a little more spicy, I propose the following contest:
FIRST ANNUAL VARSITY CONVOCATION CONTEST,
GUARANTEED TO GET US IN TROUBLE, OR AT LEAST
GENERATE LOTS OF ANGRY LETTERS
If you are to graduate next year, the following will happen: after you go up on stage and some administrator puts a hood over your head (complete with nasty fake fur) you will be prodded over to a throne (yes, a throne) wherein will sit either the President or the Chancellor. You will shake his hand, and he will ask you this question: “So… what are your plans for next year?”
The first person to prove to me that they responded with either the phrase a) “Who wants to know, asshole?” or b) “I’m gonna be humpin’ your mama,” will receive $50 in cold, hard cash!
I will need some sort of physical evidence that you did such a thing, though, so I suggest a concealed tape recorder with good directional lapel microphone.
Contest closes June 30, 2003.