Mr. Bouchard’s Guide to: Livin’ dat fulfilling Humor Editor Emeritus life

Jean-Luc Bouchard ’14 exercises his creativity in Comedy Normative, his prior work as Humor and Satire editor of The Miscellany News, and his own writing. His thesis will be a full-length novel. Photo By: Jacob Gorski

Note: Due to considerable editorial concern, the following column has been extensively fact-checked by the Miscellany News Copy Staff to correct any inaccuracies, hyperbole and straight-out lies written by the author.Corrections have been parenthetically inserted into the text below.

Yes, that’s right. I’m back.

You can all stop cheering now. I appreciate the sentiment, really, but it isn’t necessary. I’m fully aware how much of an honor it is to be reading another one of my columns.

For those of you who have had amnesia these past several months or are just very dumb, I’m Jean-Luc, the Misc’s former Humor & Satire Editor. For personal reasons I decided to (was forced to by Vassar’s lawyers) step down from my position at the end of last spring and give my friend (sexual rival) Lily Doyle the opportunity to run the Humor Section. But due to my philanthropic generosity (debilitating loneliness and nothing better to do), I’ve decided to bless the Misc with one more of my guides, for old time’s sake.

So without further ado, here’s Mr. Bouchard’s Guide to Living a Post-Humor Editor Life.

 

1. The Fame

The life of someone as famous as me, recognizable as I am for my weekly college newspaper humor columns about Deece food and Cappy, is stressful (riddled with self-loathing and phone sex bills). Now, far be it from me to suggest that I know what it’s like to be Leonardo DiCaprio or Meryl Streep or Barack Obama. It would be preposterous to suggest that I am like Leonardo DiCaprio or Meryl Streep or Barack Obama. I scoff at anyone who adamantly believes I share a similar lifestyle to Leonardo DiCaprio or Meryl Streep or Barack Obama. But let me tell you one thing: try walking into Babycakes with my face and watch what happens. Chaos (literally nothing) ensues, that’s what. I’m rushed by a crowd of admirers (given a look of pity by the hostess for eating dinner alone the third time this week). My order of veal scallopine is declared “On the House” by the owner (his special order of a hamburger with cheesecake slices for buns is deemed “too unethical” for the chefs to consider). The champagne (Diet Sierra Mist with grain alcohol from a flask) never stops flowing. It’s an exhausting life. To help manage the neverending (never-beginning) fame and recognition of being an ex-Humor & Satire Editor, I suggest adopting a disguise. If I know I have to go somewhere public (if he finally ran out of Combos, Yoo-hoo, and puppy calendars), I like to put on a false mustache (dead chipmunk found on the side of the road), a hat (mismatched pillow cases stapled together) and a bulky coat (a bulky coat stolen from homeless man who was promised a hot meal). That way, I just look like any Average Joe (a mad man).

 

2. The Creative Juices

Without a Humor Section to manage each week, you’ll notice an intense spike in your creative inspiration and work ethic as soon as you become an ex-Editor. The first few weeks after my retirement (court-mandated escort away from the Misc office kicking and screaming) were the most productive of my life. I banged out the first few chapters of my literary novel (sci-fi erotica comic book starring Condoleezza Rice), I took up watercolor painting again (spilling jungle juice on tables and leaving it for his housemates to clean up) and I wrote a new protest song (using the melody of the Kit-Kat jingle) about political corruption (about Nyan Cat starting a fight club with Godzilla). My artistic output has increased ten-fold (he’s stopped showering) since I retired from my post at the Misc. My advice to anyone thinking about leaving their jobs (volunteer student activity leadership position) in the hopes of focusing their attention on their art (“Wonder Woman”/”Gilmore Girls” crossover fan fiction) is: Go for it! You have nothing to lose (money, the respect of your friends and family, teeth) by devoting yourself to what truly interests you (Lego replicas of human sex organs).

 

3. The Flossing

You should probably floss more regularly. Don’t be deterred by a little blood. Or a lot of blood, even.

 

4. The Lack of Structure

When you stop being a Humor & Satire Editor, you come to realize just how much of your life was structured around the work (“work”) for your section (single page of womp-womp jokes and Mug references). You might find the sudden lack of a tightly-scheduled structure disorienting, unsettling or overwhelming. Rather than immediately joining some student org desperate for members (Vassar Foot Fetish Alliance; Vassar Weasel Training Club; The Barefoot Monkeys) just to fill the void in your heart, I suggest embracing your newfound freedom (contractual agreement to stop sending the Editor-in-Chief threatening 3am texts). Faced with the freetime of a post-Humor Editor life, I began to explore the joys of charity (Photoshopping Clifford the Big Red Dog’s head onto dirty pictures from the internet) and volunteering at the local Soup Kitchen (eating half-finished burritos found in the trash outside Chipotle). I self-righteously suggest you do the same.

Well, that’s all the advice I have for any up-and-coming ex-Editors out there. If you need me, I’ll be relaxing at the nearest cocktail lounge (bowling alley snack bar) rereading Great Expectations (making “nacho cheese” puns).

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