Challenging the undiscussed: milk, change, dancing title

So to you, my loyal congregation, listen to me as I preach the gospel that is the word of ALEX, and please excuse me if you catch me, like a former co-worker would say, rambling on like a school girl wearing the wrong socks, but it's what I do best.

The first order of business on the docket today is milk.

Now I know what you are saying, "What could he possibly say about milk that I don't already know?" Now, now all you doubters out there, my goal isn't to inform or teach, but to provoke thought and maybe get a rise out of you. So where was I, oh yeah, milk.

Has anyone, other than me, ever wondered who the first person ever to milk a cow was? And why would you ever want to be the first person ever to put their hands between the legs of a cow and then begin to squeeze and pull? In my opinion this was probably one of the loneliest persons ever in the history of the world.

So I was reading the glorious and praiseworthy Collegian and looking at my favorite part, the police log. It seems that there is never a shortage of things that seem to amuse me in this section.

For example, the other day there was a report of State College resident whose car was broken into. To save the resident of any ridicule, let's call him Chip York (check Jan. 13's paper for the real name). It seems that Chip's radar detector was stolen but that wasn't all. Someone had also stolen a small amount of change.

Now why in the world would Chip want to report that change was stolen? Hello! Can you imagine the scenario? I know I can.

Cop: "So they stole your radar detector, huh?"

Chip: "Yeah, but that's not important. The scums stole 73 cents from me, officer. One of the quarters was even a bicentennial quarter and one of the pennies was a wheat penny. Pretty soon those wheat will double in value." Chip, on behalf of the myself and my entire congregation, "WHAT THE @$*! IS YOUR PROBLEM?"

A new study has shown that college grads have less sex than those of lesser education. And in other news, college students have been dropping out of school at an alarming rate.

Michael Flatley's Lord of the Dance is coming back to The Bryce Jordan Center. I know, I know. Where can you get your tickets?

But don't be so fast to purchase those tickets because I'm thinking about suing for the title of Lord of the Dance. That's right, I'm the real Lord of the Dance, and if you don't believe me come into Liones West on any Thursday night. After one performance, you'll see who the real lord is.

It seems that my 15 minutes are coming to a close. Soon, I'll have to reassume my position as junior photographer supreme. During the nighttime, I'll have to go back to my spot on College Avenue with my "Will Have Sex for Food" sign, hoping that maybe that night will be the night that I finally get something to eat.

But as I try to conclude my little rants, remember not to keep change in your car because you never know when some nut might try to steal it, and then you'll never be able to afford that newspaper you've been saving up for.

Remember to always question the origin of dairy products and other fine foods. But most importantly, remember that I am the original and only true Lord of the Dance and if you would like to challenge me for my title, then I say to you, "BRING IT ON!" because I'll be waiting.