Ourso College Rolls Out XMBA Program to Accommodate "Working" Adults

      As a supplement to its extant full-time, executive, and professional programs, LSU's business school has recently added a fourth number to its repertoire of MBA offerings, this most recent installment aimed at attracting "dancers" and "actresses" looking to advance their (legitimate) careers. Coming on the heels of a surge in interest among those in the "entertainment" sector whose failed occupational avenues have included reporting, painting, singing, nursing, waiting, and "working with animals," this latest extension of an already popular scholastic initiative has received hundreds of applications since first marketing itself in June.

       This is not the first time the university has experimented with extending its MBA reach. Before woefully devolving into an awkwardly commercial dance craze, the YMBA was an effort to attract toddlers and pre-adolescents to business-related classes with a 24-month program that relied on lessons like "this little piggy went to marketing" and tasty confections like "Manage Mints." Even before that, the Flores brand had made appeals to musicians with its Bmaj7MBA option that scheduled acts like "Accounting Crows" and "Jefferson Starship Entrepreneurship."

       Many questions, however, still surround the admissions policies concerning this incoming class, including the 63 to 3 ratio of female entrants to males (three gentlemen who go by "Cool Donnie," "Python," and "Papa Bear"). Even more curious is the typical lump-sum payment of an admittedly competitive academic fee entirely in one-dollar bills. Despite having resolved some of the initial discrepancies (such as the students' response to the "wear what you would wear to work" instruction and their confusion over why Zogby polls don't go all the way to the ceiling), the administration remained concerned about the viability of the program as recently as last Friday. Accordingly, they dispatched this journalist to a local business (an establishment known as Secret Sweets—most likely a food production facility) where several in the class work. Upon being asked where one of his employees, Brooke Fuller—a 22-year-old psychology undergrad who prefers for some reason to be called "Bambi" at work—was, the apparent office coordinator said that it would cost $50 to see her. Not one to be deterred by corporate tough talk, this reporter invested the half-hundred to follow up and pursue the story. What happened next certainly changed my feelings not only about the executive structure with which most of the applicants were familiar but about life in general. When this exchange was relayed to the main office, the responses were mixed.

       "What? You didn't really do that, did you? What is the XMBA? We can't associate ourselves with this kind of stuff," remarked a frustrated Ann Tauzin. "The way you've skirted the line for the first few weeks has been charming, really. But this is so far over it it's not even close."

       Although this newest arm of the College still has to work out a few kinks and a whole lot of kinkiness, the staff remains optimistic. The group seems more than comfortable with one-on-one contact, so recruiting experts are supremely confident that interviewing should not be a problem. In addition, for young professionals the class at large appears unusually adept at navigating the unforgiving altitude of CEBA—I mean Patrick F. Taylor hall—in high heels. Furthermore, given the friendly and outgoing nature of this crop, it's clear that no one will have to look too far to find a job. What this first step of progress represents more importantly, though, is that those residing in the places where assets sometimes become liabilities and where the demand curve always equals and demand for curves finally have a place to call home. If the financial promise of these aspiring profiteers is any indication of the lucre MBAs can expect in the future, a few years of educational dedication and personal commitment will transform all those affected into moneymakers.