The State of the Union address was on Wednesday night, and I couldn’t have been more excited. Wow, do I love American now. Go us.

Actually, I didn’t see it. I was at the other newspaper I work for editing (this is true) an outdoors column reminding folks to be more careful because skunk-mating season just began. These are moments where you toy with death or perhaps a new career choice. If post-it notes could tear flesh you wouldn’t be reading this right now.

But yes, I missed the whole shebang. From what I hear there was a lot of talk of social security and Iraq. Wait a minute … or was it social dance and Iraq? That would make sense. First we make them conform to democracy, and then we teach them a little two-step called “Give us your oil.”

Oh, and according to FOXNews, President Bush is now the reincarnation of Jesus. Seriously, I think they may have reported that he made Condoleezza Rice’s facial condition go away. What was it called again? Oh right … ugly.

Forgive me for being cynical with this issue, but I’ve always had a beef with the whole State of the Union presentation. Because I was a poor, backwoods kid without cable the first offense is obvious — the speech takes up every damn channel. FOX held out a while, but then opted to give up quality entertainment like “Married with Children” for whatever gibberish the leader of the free world had to say.

Maybe you like to watch a man dump crap at your feet for two hours, but I don’t know. I think this is the whole basis for a woman never becoming president. Could they stand there that long? It’s not like they can hold it when they have to make a drop-off at the porcelain express. I’ve never had a relationship survive a trip to a theme park.

Then you’ve got the ceremonial clapping. I feel like I’m watching Leno. Everyone in the audience sees the sign flashing, but in the back of their minds they really don’t want to laugh or applaud.

How does one man sum up the progress of an entire nation in one speech? It can’t be done, unless of course you live in Canada.

“Well, don’t you know we’ve done a lot of good things this year here in North-North America. Shania Twain just released a new album. It’s pretty good, eh. Other than that there’s not much going on except that the Wolverine population took a serious blow near Vancouver, eh. Some stupid popular kid named Napoleon killed a bunch with his crossbow. We’re still trying to figure out why everyone likes quoting him so damn much.”

The White House should really explore new ways to get the president’s message out to the youth of America. I’m sure the only kids here watching the address were College Republicans, or as I like to call them — “annoying.”

How about a rap video? That’s how the stars do it these days, giving us their art while trying to seep some hidden message in through the beat. I don’t give a crap that P. Diddy tries to get me to vote, but if W. was up there flashing some bling, I might listen. He could even bring Colin Powell so that his administration could appeal to that single most important minority — rich, white people.

Perhaps I’m looking at this whole situation the wrong way. Maybe people really do like speeches. Upon this revelation, I give you the State of the Me address.

My dear readers, the future is now. I was saving some leftover Gus’s for tomorrow, but I instead decided to eat it today for lunch. It was good, but not as good as our opportunities and our potential. I TiVoed “Smallville” so that should be pretty cool when I get off work tonight. There is also a darkness rising that we must fight. I haven’t done laundry in about two weeks, and I’m down to the boxers with holes in them and socks that don’t match. And the great plague has ended. The cat finally stopped being in heat last Sunday, and I was able to sleep for more than three hours. The celebration should begin very shortly for the greatness we have achieved. This means you’ll see me drunk at Cool Beans at various times this weekend. Also, the time for good tidings and blessings on others has come. He doesn’t know it yet, but when my friend Clint and I go drinking tonight, it’s going to be his “birthday” everywhere we go because it’s easy to embarrass him.

I would like to thank everyone who sent suggestions for fixing (haha) my cat problem. It’s good know that there are so many people that believe I actually throw animals at futons. I don’t know who turned me in to PETA, but I’ll find you.

— Glenn LaFollette is a super-senior in journalism and electronic media. He can be reached a [email protected].