Smut, dirty feet and 'Hoe Carnival': Welcome to Dugdale

Ah, yes. Fall semester. The whorish legs of IU have once again spread, giving birth to a brand new semester. As a result, I must introduce myself to a new gaggle of baby freshmen.\nHello my pimply lil' babies! Welcome to Mama Dugdale's column! I look forward to breast-feeding you journalistically, to feed you via sweet suckles from the juicy teats of my creativity. \nSo what kind of journalist am I you ask? An awe-inspiring Anderson Cooper? A ball-busting Mike Wallace?\nBoogers no.\nI am a smut journalist. I do not write about things of importance, depth or political involvement, for the same reason I don't wash my feet: I'm too freakin' lazy. About half way down I'm like, "Crap, I give up." Besides, if God had wanted my feet to be clean, he would have put them on my face. Come on, God. Let's open up a can of "Duh" and feast, shall we?\nIn lieu of actual "reputable" stories, the superficial topics I will cover this semester include: unibrows, Tom Cruise's intense vaginal disgust, bacon bits and a fullpage article on poop and poo related issues titled "Feces: Pro or Con?"\n"This is outrageous," Republicans with sexless marriages and plaid furniture are probably saying. "Doesn't this little twerp realize that there is a war going on in Iraq? Is he unaware of political unrest in the Middle East? Does he not understand that the budget deficit is now so large it's been spotted wearing a velour Kirstie Alley tracksuit?\nYes, Mama Dugdale does indeed understand. \nHowever, I also understand that as a naive 20-year-old -- a naive 20-year-old who still plays "Duck Hunt" in his boxer-briefs no less (the crotch pouch makes for a fabulous holster) -- my insight into global affairs is going to be somewhat meaningless. I'm far too immature. For example, while driving home the other day, I realized that the "S" had burnt out on the illuminated "Shoe Carnival" sign and damn near soiled my khakis. \nTrust me: You don't want my advice on foreign affairs. My only anti-terrorist strategy involves buying all angry Muslims a wonderfully soothing papaya salt scrub. \nI could pretend to be well informed about Israeli controversy, but the truth is I don't know Jerusalem from Jersey. I've been too busy watching "American Idol" I suppose, awaiting the day when Paula Abdul will finally OD on crack and Clay Aiken, clad in a sparkly, sequined tube top, will frolic on stage and steal her clutch purse. \nAlthough this form of literary laziness may seem incredibly ignorant, I assure you ... it is. So if you are expecting hard-hitting journalism with in-depth interviews and dead-on statistics, think again. \nYou wouldn't expect sanitary beef from Taco Bell, so don't expect respectability here. \nThe fact is, I'm not just swimming in the pool of ignorance: I'm peeing at the bottom. \nThus, I invite you. The waters of trashy journalism are warm. Put on your smut goggles, take off your pants -- and jump right in.