A Cry For Help

Dear Faithful Mustang Daily Reader,

You wouldn’t believe everything that’s happened to us lately. We haven’t spoken in oh, so long, and we feel like we’ve lost touch with each other. The drunken text messages went a little overboard (NO, YOU GO F*CK YOURSELF!), but hey, that’s what love is all about.

Just catching you up on things: Doug got a haircut. But that was a couple months ago, and his hair has grown back since. He thought about donating all his hair to a cancer organization, but he was a bastard and hoarded it all. Mike thought about becoming an astronaut. I know-crazy, huh? But he decided not to ‘cause he just loves earth food, and he thinks astronaut ice cream tastes like sh*t. And the weather! You wouldn’t believe how God has blessed us with this beautiful sunshine. You know what it feels like? It feels like that first Lord of the Rings movie, right at the beginning when everyone was happy in the Shire. Oh, and we’re probably gonna commit suicide.

We know, it’s our first time. It felt a little awkward bringing it up, but you know, that’s how life goes (or ends!).

Hopefully, this isn’t a bad time for you. Finals week is coming up in two weeks, and you don’t want to start your summer off on a bad note. But we promise the suicide won’t be bloody. In fact, we’ve already gone to Sears and purchased some fantastic “I’m F*cking Dead” cards to send out to everyone, and you guessed it, they’re embossed.

But what about you? How have you been doing? Reading the paper, I see? Well, you better watch out for today’s sudoku, because it’s a real doozy!

If you’re wondering about our final column next week, well, we’ll be dead, so we hope you enjoy it! In order to maintain our status as professionals, we have already written, edited, and final drafted the entire column. It might not be as topical as we’d liked, as we will have been dead for almost a week.

Oh, and if it isn’t too much to ask, we need you to run a couple errands for us. First, we need our lawn watered really bad. It is quite brown. Secondly, please leave nice comments on our Facebook profiles after we “pass on.” The last thing, and we know it’s kind of a lot to ask for, but if you could punch Wayne Gretzky in the balls, that’d be great. He knows why.

By the way, we are terminally ill with Lou Gehrig’s Disease and it is extroadinarily painful. That is pretty much the major reason for us committing suicide. Don’t think we’re goth or anything.

Thanks,

TCG

Classy: If you could just punch Gretzky again in the balls, that’d be great.

Uncouth: Jack Ingram committing suicide. Don’t do it Jack, there’s still something to live for!