Thursday, August 2, 2007

Yeah, so my alma mater is getting some interesting press this week...

For once, FSU is not under the microscope entirely because of its athletic programs. (And yes, the USA Today Coaches Poll comes out tomorrow. God, I hate preseason polls...With. The. Fire. Of. 1,000. SUNS. They're ruining the sport, and making it edge ever closer to utter destruction! Erm...or not. You know. Whatever.)

Granted, our football program faced a huge amount of drama with the departure of Jeff Bowden and the arrival of the (we hope) salvation of FSU football, Jimbo Fisher. God, I can't wait for college football season to start...only a few more weeks. But apart from the AP giving Papa Bowden and my Noles some love today, the news about FSU hasn't been all that sports-related.

That's right, my darling, beloved Florida State University is in the news this week because of vajayjay exposure and general douchecritical (thanks, D., for use of that) e-mail behavior.

Yep...vajayjay exposure. That seems as good a place as any to start.

It seems that the auspiciously named Lace Rose Allenius, erstwhile gal pal of Matt Dillon and FSU alum, received a little notoriety this week. That's right, Lace posed for the 2004 Girls of the ACC issue of Playboy. But she didn't stop there...if you google her, you're sure to get an up close reveal of the veins in her breasts and whether or not she waxes. The ABC News intern's naughty bits circulated her workplace, resulting in what may be one of the creepiest corporate memos to ever hit inboxes. Ooops.

And then there's Robert Olen Butler, Pulitzer Prize-winning author and creative writing professor of fresh-faced, whippersnapper Noles. Apparently, Bob's wife left him recently...for TED TURNER. Yep, the Ted Turner who owns a plantation near Tallahassee. Not content to keep his family drama quiet, as most sane people do, Bob issued a manifesto in the form of a verbose e-mail to a group of grad students, who did what any self-respecting grad students would do...they leaked this juice bit of prose to the media. Gawker did what they do, and proceeded to roast Butler on a spit.

But don't you hate it when your wife leaves you for a man who reminds her of the grandfather who molested her as a child?

I audited one of his classes back in the day...he seemed like a nice enough, even self-deprecating, kind of guy. But click on the link below and get a load of this self-aggrandizing load of...well, you know.

(Disclaimer: it does read like failed script doctoring for "Austin Powers"...his entire monologue-y e-mail sounds like it should begin with either a reference to "The Jerk" or to Dr. Evil's sad, sad origins as the child of a prostitute named Chloe in Belgium.)

Anyhow, thanks, guys. Because of you I get to - for once - escape angsty fan rants about whether or not our offensive line can protect the pocket for Drew Weatherford, or whether Xavier Lee is the second coming of Charlie Ward. I applaud your idiocy, and bid you good day.


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