Â鶹ÊÓƵ

Although I have written before about my favorite places on campus, I left out one very important building.

As a veteran of several of their programs I am still completely obsessed with the Center's summer camps, but I'm a bit too old to be at WKU every summer. Instead, I've graduated to camp counselor, and this time to a roving group of creative teens at a film and media camp right here in Â鶹ÊÓƵ.

I can't get with that mentality and it has nothing to do with the fact that I am not a sports fanatic... er, fan.

If this entry had audio, it would definitely have me doing a KILLER Bill Cosby impression: "My WIFE Camille, with the Jell-O pudding pops..."

Well, no. I'm not actually going to talk about sex. Not no never. I've always been a believer that sex is sort of like music. You don't talk about making it. If you're good at it you don't talk about it. If you talk about it, you're not good at it.

Adventures in babysitting, feeding live crickets to frogs, and the things people will tell you when you're walking a dog.

The fairy godmothers are actually hillbillies, the prince is something of a dud, and the mice are a lot more concerned about where they're going to get their next meal than about anything that's going on with Cinderella.

This is my second summer in Â鶹ÊÓƵ. It's quiet. Calm. Let's say, the campus wears a different face in the summer.

An explanation of various conceptual categories, mostly related to SF Hall, delivered with my trademark wit and witticism. Bonus: further photographic evidence that I was a very strange child!

Why the semester you don't spend in Â鶹ÊÓƵ can be the most valuable part of your Â鶹ÊÓƵ education. For one thing, it raises the stakes.

On stereotypes, underlying truths, how college is different from high school, and why we are (and aren't) a hipster school.

What do you do when you're broke and working an unpaid internship? Hint: begging your parents for money is only step one.