Yale Record Blog

By Emily Sigman '11

My darling wife, on the eve of our marriage, I'd like to whisper a few words to you. No, no, don't speak, my little dove. I want the world to know that I will never let you go. Ever.

When we go to sleep, I will hold you until the break of dawn. And when that dawn breaks, I'm still not going to let you go. Then midway through the day, I will surprise you at your cute little desk job, and bring you bonbons and daisies, and skunk eye that guy two cubicles down who ogles you. Then, two hours later I will drop by the house and leave rose petals on your pillows, and also make sure that you aren't in our bed with the milkman.

• I'm glad that when they made the alphabet, I and I were put in the same place.
• There's no "I" in "menage a un," but there is a "me."
• Is there a reflecting pool in my pocket? 'Cuz I just fell in love with the image of myself in my pants.
• What's my sign?
• How do I like my eggs in the morning? Preferably still as testicles.
• I lost my virginity, can I have mine?
• Nice shoes, wanna masturbate?
• I wish I were E^x so I could lie tangent to my own curves.
• There's a party in my pants and I'm invited.
• I look a lot like my next boyfriend.

Here's what I don't get about therapy. You pay a guy to help you with your problems, but all he does is sit there and listen to you drone on and on. Waste of money, right? I might as well be talking to that fichus right there. 

Who even came up with the name fichus? It sounds like a Roman's dog. "Here, Fichus! Go fetch the discus!" Or it could be a swear word for a giant. You know - "Fee fi fo... aw, fichus, what happened to my golden harp?" And everyone already knows the answer to that question. Jack stole it! Or was that the goose with the Golden Eggs?

What's the deal with questions, anyway? I mean, there's always that high-pitched ending to the sentence. You know? It's like they're breathing in helium. And forget about those people who are tone deaf! You know: the ones who can't modulate their voice tone at all. They sound like they're asking questions all day. Like therapists. What's the deal with therapy, anyway?