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Could I BEE any more excited about SpringFest?

SpringFest is tomorrow? Really? Because the last time I checked, I was still wearing my winter wear — fuzzy hats that look like animals, fratastic fleece vests and argyle socks that compulsively match the rest of my outfit. I wish Al Gore would concentrate on inventing the Internet some more and spend less time spreading honor code violations about global warming. I’m so sick of freezing my nips off that I’ve been driving my Hummer around more than — I was going to make an inappropriate reference to Natasha Richardson here, but I have a feeling some of you would complain it’s too soon.

Too soon? False; Liam Neeson’s real wife died like six years ago. I saw him at the funeral! Remember? Because then he had to raise the stepson all by himself and help him woo that sassy preteen girl singer who stole Mariah Carey’s “All I Want” Christmas song ... which sounds like the plot of a silly movie, because no one loves stepchildren. Another “Cinderella Story” taught us — and Hilary Duff — where stepchildren whose biological parents die belong: vacuuming my floors because my Roomba that I bought with your inheritance broke. When the robot revolution comes, I hope those murderous robots are as easy to break as Roombas.

Anyway, speaking of Hilary Duff, why are all the celeb zines blabbing about Natasha anyway instead of more stories about Hilary? When’s Hil’s next album coming out? When’s Hil getting back with her uglier sis Haylie for more teen sister Disney song covers? Aly & AJ totally stole their thunder, and no one seems to care! That’s the real story! Not this ski death business! Natasha’s not even famous! Sure, she was the mom in Lindsay Lohan’s Parent Trap in the 1990s, but no one likes a one-hit wonder.

Speaking of talentless one-hit wonders, Sarah Bariles is playing at SpringFest. I know lots of people who are excited about Sarah Burellis — she’s not famous enough for me to bother spelling her name correctly — for some unfathomable reason or another. Even the second-place “American Idol” loser David Archuleta says she’s his favorite singer. And that’s why I voted for the other David. Mother — not mine, but the bunny mother from “Bambi” — always said if you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all. I would, however, point out that limiting my freedom of speech is an oppressive act of terrorism against the First Amendment and thus hardly can be considered nice, so didn’t she just prove her own totalitarian command hypocritical and thus invalid?

But we’ll pretend the bunny knew her stuff, and I just won’t say anything at all about that whiny obnoxious Mandy Moore-wannabe Saruh Bariles. I definitely won’t point out that whenever she comes up on my Miley Cyrus Pandora station, I scream the shrill death-squeal of a young Jennifer Love Hewitt in those “I Know What You Did Last Summer” movies before trampling my stuffed animals in a hurry to SKIP IT! Seriously, she has the talent of a Pussycat Doll — not Nicole Scherzinger, the one that does all the singing — but the talent of one of the other four glorified backup dancers.

Lots of morons say the free concert is the only reason to go to SpringFest, but I’m not afraid to call out a moron. Just like I’m not afraid to call out someone who wears Crocs for being rubber shoe-wearing trailer trash. There are tons of other fun things to do at Nameless ... if you’re like me.

And by that, I really mean being ruthlessly and inappropriately competitive about things that everyone realizes are so mindnumbingly shallow and unimportant, that I can always win just because you don’t try. I used to be a winner because I had more Wall posts than you — I even had the Facebook application that kept track of all your friends’ Wall post counts so I KNOW I was beating everyone — but ever since Zuckerberg eff’ed me over and hid the count, I need new competitions ... And SpringFest is filled with them.

There are the obvious competitions — like seeing who can cram as many animal byproduct-covered animal parts in their mouth in the Gusburger eat-off or ruining Ben & Jerry’s for yourself by shoveling it out of a bucket, or racing around in an obstacle course or trying to unhook your friend’s harness on the inflatable rock climbing wall — it was all in good fun, Jimmy!

Then there are the less obvious competitions, like seeing who can abuse the free food the most. Remember, it’s not volume, but caloric content. Compress that cotton candy before cramming it in your cargo pockets — and note that the only time cargo shorts are acceptable is when you’re stealing stuff. And like with any social event, there’s also the competition in which you and your SpringFest pals see who knows more people. And this brings me to the most important of all competitions ... the Facebook photos.

As one of the top-five spring semester events — the other top events being that cupid holiday, that leprechaun holiday, graduation and last day of classes — SpringFest is a prime time for all your friends — well the girls, anyway — to bring their digital cameras and make a Facebook album. Maybe they’ll even add a few rando photos from their poorly-attended birthday party where all they did was photograph each other standing around with their two friends and two roommates — who were trying to do homework but got hassled into coming to the “party” because the 30 people who said “maybe” on the Facebook event shockingly didn’t show.

Anyway the photo competition is pretty complicated, so you may need to take notes. Obviously you want tons of photos of you because you’re an attention whore who validates yourself with your digital fingerprint on a fumbling social media site — the future is Twitter, suckas! The primary goal is to get a new profile picture. You want to have someone cool in your photo, but not cooler — and definitely not cuter — though they usually go hand in hand — than you. You also need to be doing something fun — like unhooking a friend’s safety harness on a rock climb — or having something hilarious going on in the background — like a talentless singer desperately crooning to a crowd of less than five people. I swear to Zac Efron, if I see you at SpringFest singing along to that horrid “Love Song” that everyone learned the chorus to a year ago, I may or may not punch you in the jugular. Please note I only added that “may not” for legal reasons because I’m not allowed to make physical threats of violence in my columns anymore. And I can’t go back to jail.

Now if you’ve got real SpringFest skillz, you might even try to get the photo Holy Grail of a picture with Buzzy. For the uninformed, Buzzy the Bee was once the University Programs Council mascot who made students of all ages and criminal histories giggle with pun-tastic glee as he fluttered about making events buzzworthy and stabbing boredom to death with his stinger. But now the UPC bourgeoisie is suffocating U.Va.’s second favorite mascot — first place mascot obviously goes to Matt Schrimpboat’s official University dog Noble Cozart — and poor Buzzy might not even make a SpringFest appearance ... which is a shame, because I wanted him to attack that poser Sahra Barelez. Mandy Moore for SpringFest 2010!

Steve’s column runs weekly Fridays. He can be reached a s.austin@cavalierdaily.com.

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