Mailbags

Dear Dean…

I’m afraid there was a slight miscommunication. I thought I was signing up to live in a quad with 3 “roommates”, not 3 “room apes”.

-A Student Covered In Monkey Feces

Dear Latvia…

I’m sorry, but suicide doesn’t count as a chief export. Better luck next year.

Dear Inspector Gadget…

Last night was great. I’ve never seen a man get it up so fast before. Then again, I’ve never heard a man say “Go, go, gadget penis!” either.

-Jennifer

Dear Old McDonald…

Getting past your firewall was ridiculously easy. You shouldn’t include your password in your theme song. Partly for security purposes, but also because it doesn’t make sense in the song.

Signed,
People Who Can Type “EIEIO”

Dear Phillip…

I will not be able to join you martinis tonight as I cannot hold a martini glass.

A Cow

Dear Farmer…

I tried to press “snooze” this morning and may have injured your rooster. My apologies.

A City Man

How did you get the holiday where people join together with their families and eat great food, while my holiday consists of feeding candy to little jerkoff children while hoping nobody eggs your house?

Peeved,
Pumpkins