Staff Picks: Guilty Pleasures

Have you ever found yourself wanting to know more about the current Foghorn staff beyond what they look like and their title? I have. This week I pried at their guilty pleasures. The often stern, stone-cold editor in chief and prized scholar Mr. Hunter Patterson explained his guilty pleasure: “After a long week of rigorous academic thinking, I like to take a few minutes to collect myself while watching shows like ‘Real House Wives of Atlanta,’ ‘The Soup’ or the ‘O’Reilly Factor.'”

Head copy editor and Ignatian editor in chief Miss Anna Shajirat astonishingly takes the time to obtain and then flip through the likes of “US Weekly” and “Star” magazines. Wow. Miss Lulu McAllister struggles to find any pleasure which renders her guilty, however “ice cream and flirting” are as close as it gets for this managing editor. Just when you thought she couldn’t be any hotter.

Next, Production Manager Heather Spellacy enjoys filling out senseless Myspace questionnaires and posting them as bulletins for no one to read (except the robots). Sports editor Erika Heyer enjoys watching re-runs of “Home Improvement” while news editor Laura Plantholt thinks that “Home Improvement” is rather “an excellent sleep aid.” She finds both guilt and pleasure from obsessively applying Burt’s Bees lip balm on a more than hourly basis. Co-news editor Chelsea Sterling conceals her computer from the eyes of others when she gets sucked into reading the Wikipedia pages belonging to the most gruesome albeit infinitely interesting murderers and other assorted criminals. It’s okay Chelsea, I’ve read the John Wayne Gacy Junior wiki page three times in the past two years.

Photo editor Miss Melissa Stihl admits to Facebook stalking — something we all do but Melissa was brave enough to externalize for us. Similarly, the Foghorn’s Internet wiz-kid and official online design manager, Michael Villasenor, unabashedly says he occasionally checks I myself searched high and low and found my guiltiest of pleasures to be walking around my apartment in ultra-high heel Betsy Johnson and Ferragamo shoes when no one is home while lip-sinking to anything off of the “Boogie Nights” soundtrack with broom stick in hand. There, I said it.



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