Sex, sex, sex. That's all I write about, so my fans tell me.
Let me assure you that the word "sex" has only appeared 33 times (2.33 times/column) in Sex and the Hedgehog before today, but it has been mentioned at least once only 3 out of every 5 weeks.
So it seems you are exaggerating a bit. The fact is that we are all perverts and want to read about it.
If you catch me at any point in the day, there's a pretty good chance that sex is what I am thinking about. And so are you. Society trivializes it.
Look at most of the popular monthly magazines Cosmo, Glamour, Playboy they're all about the s-word.
The truth is that sex is like air. It's not important unless you're not getting any.
I am the poster boy for this claim, having gone without for 527 consecutive days.
But if you think that I am boring you with all of this depraved discourse, you will be happy to know that this column, inspired by Sarah Jessica Parker's hit HBO sitcom, is in the gas chamber as you read.
A change is in order for the new millennium. If and when you return for the Spring, you will not have to see this psychotic photo again.
Consider it a Christmas gift to you from Santa Hedgehog. I'm sure you're tired of hearing about the trials and tribulations of the clinically depressed, so let the whining cease.
On campus, I am the windshield. Off campus, I am the bug. But this thorn in my side is from a tree that I have planted. It tears me, and I bleed.
I am really not much for holidays, but I will try to conform to society by honoring the Christmas ritual with some Christmas wishes.
I wish more people would take responsibility for their actions like my editors did last month. The Hedgie for best column goes to Mat DeKinder for his apology.
I wish the majority of us would prefer to be made to think instead of merely being entertained.
The Hedgie for best columnist goes to Matt Cummings for "Let the Ranting Commence." Thank you for actually putting some effort into your work.
My princess is right when she tells me that we need to look for the good in things and not dwell on the bad. I wish we could all be a little more like that.
In her honor, I render no negative Hedgies toward my colleagues.
I wish professors would all strive to serve the student community instead of simply attending to their own research goals.
So I will take this time to honor my favorite professor, Dr. Ulrich Melcher, with my professor of the century Hedgie.
I wish we lived in a world where people didn't scream racism when they don't get what they want, and I want to see an end to scholarships that grant people money and free tutoring services based on the color of their skin.
The best Christmas presents can't be placed under a symbolic tree.
For Christmas, I want my brother to get a pay raise so that he can better support his wife and five children.
I want my hedgette to find a love that she couldn't find with me. I want a smile from my favorite Fazoli's employee and a warm and fuzzy hedge-hug from my female friends.
I want my committee to look favorably upon my thesis and grant me exile. As for my treasured helper T cell, your mere personality has already made my Christmas merry. (Hedge-smile.)
Your inner tranquility and intrinsic comeliness bring a uniform peace to all things hedgehog.
I cannot fathom how someone would accept a sizable check from Regis Philbin and then proclaim that he or she is going to waste it on material possessions.
Meanwhile, there are people out there who can't afford food or shelter. Where are our priorities?
I hope that you all act sensibly on New Year's Eve. If you drink, don't park. Accidents cause people.
Let us not worry about Y2K and its purported consequences. It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine.
Well, I hear the cyanide tablets dropping into the sulfuric acid can. That means it is time for Sex and the Hedgehog to come to an eternal sleep.
I wish all of you a Merry Christmas and a Happy 2000.
Auf Wiedersehen, Hedgehog.