Yeah, yeah, we know you're probably wondering why anybody from the Observer would be at SMU long enough during the summer to determine a reason NOT to be there. The answer is simple: One of us still hasn't gotten that piece of paper that determines whether we're going to be just another low-income journalist or a low-income journalist with a college diploma. But what really matters here is the fact that SMU whores itself out to hundreds of cheerleaders every summer for rah-rah camp. Like having to deal with bleached blond sorority princesses balancing cell phones in one hand and a latte and a Louis Vuitton bag in the other, while sticking perfectly pedicured feet into the road without looking to see if cars are coming, isn't enough. Now lucky SMU students have to spend summer school maneuvering through throngs of peppy ponytails and pom-poms attached to pubescent people who really just need a good smackdown. When will the madness end?