Click to read about the best places to eat on campus, freshman packing tips, and how to keep in touch with friends.

Hey I want to be James Bond, too

Guy. Movie Guy.

I like the ring of that. Ever since seeing Pierce Brosnan come into his own as James Bond in the series’ 20th flick, Die Another Day, I’ve been thinking I picked the wrong career path.

If I want to be the next James Bond, I need to work on a few things. First off, I have to go back in time and star in a little-seen show called Remington Steele. Forget all this studying journalism stuff; I need to start playing the hunk who steals Sally Field from Robin Williams in Mrs. Doubtfire.

Only then will I get the chance to drive an invisible car, drink martinis shaken — not stirred — and play around the gadget room with John Cleese. When I come into work I can get chewed out by Judi Dench as my boss — oh, would I be in heaven? — only to then sulk back to my office as Miss Moneypenny fawns over me. Soon, I will be the one in Cuba sitting behind Halle Berry as she looks at the ocean. I’ll be cracking such sharp one-liners as, “Nice view.”

Yes, I am giving up my $6-per-hour. movie critic gig to be the next James Bond.

OK, let’s run down the requirements. Dark, brooding look? Check. British? My grandmother came from England during World War II — and if Mike Myers can do it, I can fake the accent, too. Chest hair? You betcha. A fine physique? Ahem, I can probably drop a few pounds — I’ll have my own personal Hollywood trainer, after all.

I think I can do it. Then, in my off-time I will star opposite a naked — but good-looking — 40-year-old Rene Russo in a remake of a Steve McQueen movie. Yeah, that’s the ticket.

Ugghhh … what am I saying? I could never be Pierce Brosnan. Or Sean Connery for that matter. (Who could?) Roger Moore and Timothy Dalton? Well, let’s be honest here, Jon Lovitz can do as good of a job as those two hacks. Not that I would ever compare myself to the great genius of Mr. Lovitz.

But the real problem I guess I would have playing Bond is dealing with some punk college film critic who looks like Stone Cold Steve Austin saying he could be me. What fun will it be to sleep with hordes of women and blow up entire arsenals of ammunition if I can’t sit back and criticize how fake it all looks?

No one will buy that I’m actually surfing with two other spy guys on mountainous waves off the coast of North Korea. And why would I sleep with that foxy Miranda Frost chick, knowing that every time I do one of these flicks, I get double-crossed by one of the women? Everyone knows that Halle Berry has more potential for a franchise spin-off. Besides, she’s the one with an Oscar.

I guess, in the end, I couldn’t be James Bond because I would be the actor who keeps annoying the director with such questions as, “Do you really think a palace made of ice is realistic?” and “What’s up with all these double entendres?”

And I have to hand it to Pierce Brosnan. Only he could make a movie with an invisible car and gross $47 million in one weekend doing it. Oh wait, Daniel Radcliffe had an invisible car in Harry Potter two weeks ago, and that flick opened to the tune of $88 million. And didn’t his fly?

I think I’ll hold off on my Bond crusade until the franchise can top that.

But hey, that’s just, like, my opinion, man.

Contact Will Albritton at