A complete step-by-step guide to being Nick Moose

Nick Moose's view

Oftentimes, slack-jawed youths off the street will approach me in awe and nervously manage to blurt: “Mr. Moose, how do you do it?”

After my standard response of, “in a lighthouse wearing a chicken costume with a strategically poked hole,” they usually rephrase their query.

“How do you spin your golden yarns of printed awesome in the Stater week after week? When I grow up, I wanna be just like you! Wanna hear a really funny joke about…”

Slightly disappointed that I don’t get to talk about the chicken costume anymore, I usually cut them off, responding with a hardy: “Greatness isn’t born slappy. It doesn’t even begin. It explodes fully formed from the womb of a sturdy basement.”

Confused and heart broken, the poor saps wander back into the creases of darkness from whence they emerged, where, in my mind at least, they are mauled by enormous ground sloths.

The truth of the matter though, folks, is that with a little determination, and a near lethal amount of substance abuse, anyone can write columns as ingenious as mine — even me.

So, for those of you aspiring humorists out yonder, I present: HOW TO BE NICK MOOSE, THE STEP-BY-STEP GUIDE or HOW TO WRITE ALMOST EXCLUSIVELY ABOUT BOOBS AND ANIMALS WITH STUPID NAMES AND STILL GET PAID.

STEP 1: To start, topic wise, there are three things I tend to avoid: 1) Issues 2) The government and 3) The fact that I’m pissed about them changing the actress behind the voice of the character Alex in the “Totally Spies” cartoon because now it’s the same girl who was Sailor Mars, and to me, she will always be Sailor Mars. The first two I avoid because I don’t care and the third because I’m the only person who does.

Remember: You don’t actually need a topic.

STEP 2: Now, topic or no, you’re almost ready to hunker down. (Or at least “hanker for a hunk of cheese.”) But before you actually start composing, you’ll want to shotgun a minimum of seven beers. If you’re not a beer person, you can achieve the same effect by traveling back in time and instructing your mother to repeatedly drop you head-first on the linoleum as an infant. Done? OK, now you’re ready.

STEP 3: Stare at the Katie Holmes-adorned desktop of your computer and wonder why you can’t meet a nice girl like that who would agree to lounge around your apartment topless and hand-feed you pez.

STEP 4: Take a break to “Crasterbate.” (Cry while you masturbate.)

STEP 5: Find and purchase a copy of the campy 1960s nudie cutie film, Werewolf Bongo Party. You’ll notice upon screening it that even though this was illegal at the time, you can clearly glimpse pubic hair on the crotchular region of the girl with the hilarious looking vampire teeth! Say, “What the crap!?” out loud.

STEP 6: Wait until exactly 15 minutes before the column is due.

STEP 7: Write the column.

There you have it. Oh, and remember, Lindsay Lohan is @#$&ing hot!

Nick Moose is a senior majoring in being a bad-ass dude. For information on the Nick Moose fan club, contact him at [email protected].