Bet you didn’t see the last column coming! Element of surprise my friend. Usually, I can’t trust my own judgment. When I was in middle school, I thought I looked like George Clooney. So, I would get my hair cut in a widow’s peak like he had on E.R.

BOOM! Bet you didn’t see that boom coming. Actually, you probably did. I shouldn’t have put it in all caps. I’m not that good at surprises.

Some people commented on the fact that I decided to write a “serious” column in my last installment. Serious journalism? What does that mean? Writing a political column that no one reads? Let me rephrase that: Writing a political or any other type of column where the writer tries to sound like an expert but is really just getting his/her preferred facts from an unreliable source?

I don’t want to rehash my last column, so that is all I have to say about that. But I am glad that you mentioned journalism because I should be The Sun’s Reporter of the Year.

YOU HEAR ME CARLOS!? I want it … and I want you. More importantly, I deserve it. Why? Just let my Robot Slaying, Wolverine-like (The Animal Not the X-Man) Iron Clad Ten-Point Plan do the talking (note: I spent most of my time on this article thinking up that awesome name).

1. I am a progressive, not just in my writing but also in my life. I have just entered into an interracial relationship with a girl. She’s Scottish and I’m English/Irish. Is the world ready to see such a couple? Probably not — too advanced. But I have to follow my heart. That’s how I live my life.

2. I can’t go back home this summer unless I win an award. When I would go up to bat in Little League baseball games, my dad would yell from the stands, “Hit a homer or else you won’t have anywhere to sleep tonight.” Then, when I struck out, he would yell, “I have no son,” with my brother sitting next to him. Also, when I went to summer camp, I wrote back to my parents, “Everyone loves me here. I won best camper.” My dad went to that same summer camp and knew that no such award existed.

3. Point #1 may not be true. But it could be at some point in the future, so...

4. If I do not get named Reporter of the Year, I will make up a new category such as Reporter of the Year Who is Secretly a Wizard and then give that award to myself. Remember, any award that I give to myself will be published in The Sun. So I can write down on my resume, “According to The Cornell Daily Sun, I am the Reporter of the Year Who is Secretly a Wizard.”

5. I only listen to Indie music, so I am cooler than you — corporate sheep. I also have really cool posters in my room that no one else has like John Belushi wearing his sweater that says “College” and one of Bob Marley that lets people know I am anti-establishment.

6. I’m good at surprises.

7. Name me a better reporter — I’ll fight him/her (yes, I will fight a girl. Remember, I am progressive and non-discriminating. It would be sexist of me to say that I would only fight a boy.) Fighting is the only way to decide who is right or wrong in any situation.

8. I invented the piano key necktie. Hahaha. I joke. That is from Zoolander. See, I imitate lines from movies to make people think I am funny. I bet no one else does that.

9. I am smarter than all of the other reporters. Whatever number they think of, I can think of a higher one. If they say infinity, I’ll just say infinity plus one. They can’t be smarter than me — I go to Cornell.

10. I think the timeless words of Natasha Bedingfield say it best:

There you have it — the awesome Robot Slaying, Wolverine-like (The Animal Not the X-Man) Iron Clad Ten-Point Plan that has been methodically calculated and that has an awesome title.

Note: These were the actual words written back to me by my editor Olivia after reading the first draft: “OK, I don’t really understand why you’d want to be Reporter of the Year if you’re a columnist. There actually is a Columnist of the Year award. Also, why do these points in the plan qualify you?” I think I just blew her mind.

The End

… Or is it?

Andrew Webb is a junior in the College of Arts and Sciences. He can be contacted at amw68@cornell.edu. Confessions of a Mental Patient appears alternate Mondays.