The revolution will ban all collar popping

You know, there are times when I look into the mirror and my eyes actually hurt because of how… You know, there are times when I look into the mirror and my eyes actually hurt because of how good I look. Or I comb my hair and realize I don’t even have to, because my perfect jet-black hair that dangles just above my pupils is always in its place. My clothes perfectly complement my model figure.

It’s a good thing I have all male professors, because I would never learn anything from a professor who couldn’t concentrate on the lesson plan or take her eyes off of me.

OK, so maybe that’s not the most accurate self-analysis.

But to those of you who fit the above description: Please stay out of my way. You ruin all the good parties and every class I take. It is hard enough talking to an attractive girl who shows the slightest interest in me without you morons walking into the room and making no amount of funny jokes I tell compelling enough to get that number. Instead of ruining my good time, how about you go and stare at your reflection a little longer?

I lack style and grace. These deficiencies don’t really affect me in my daily pursuits, but as soon as I try to turn on my pathetic attempt at “game,” some fool with his hair combed out of his trucker hat and collar-popped pink polo comes in and ruins any chance at happiness I could have had.

Am I being a tad melodramatic and exaggerative? Not at all; I’m sure there are others out there who share in my plight. To them, I say we take back what is deemed “attractive,” “handsome” and “hygienic.” No more of this Abercrombie/AE/faux-thrift-store garbage. I say wearing a dirty shirt and jeans is the new hotness. I figure if I can somehow get P. Diddy and Josh Hartnett to wear some Hanes and Levi combinations, I will suddenly be transformed from lowest rung to top shelf on the fashion ladder.

Now as for chiseled bodies and whatnot, it’s absurd the pressures this society puts on me to get off of my couch and exercise. How dare society interrupt my “Law ‘ Order” binge! Who do they think they are? Someone call Jack McCoy; he always knows what to do!

Now, I am all for being healthy, but if I don’t get out of breath changing channels I figure I’m three steps from being Iron Man. Besides, I hate running on the treadmills in the Petersen with every snot-nosed freshman or athlete from Sutherland judging me through the giant glass window that separates us. (I haven’t actually been on the treadmill side of that glass, but I’m sure that’s what would happen should I suit up and start jogging.)

So I am throwing down the gauntlet. Imperfect college students of Pitt, defy the perceived notions of beauty! Wear those undershirts and sweat pants. Don’t gel that hair, and for God’s sake, don’t pop that collar! If everyone is doing it, then the perfect people will follow suit because they don’t actually have style. They just perfect what everyone else is already doing. There will be plenty naysayers, but they are just — how should I put this? — unpatriotic! (A bit of a stretch, but I’m pretty sure that George Washington would never pop his powdered wig.)

It will be a hard struggle, I am sure, but think of what we will accomplish together:

After this coup d’etat, not only will we revolutionize society, but we will make it easier for me to get chicks! VIVA LA REVOLUTION!

Arun Butcher thinks he is the next Ashton Kuscher. E-mail him at amb28@pitt.edu.