The following handwritten letter was recently found on the unseasonably cold marble steps of McKinley Hall:

Dear Lisa,

I’m thinking of becoming an intravenous drug user except I don’t like to swallow pills. Hey what smells like shit in the backyard? Wait, it’s not that pig breeding farm you started, is it? You know I’m a vegetarian! Well, I’m going green by chopping down a young tree for my new custom wood iPod to conserve on metal and plastic. Plus I’m dumping vats of tainted gasoline, unwanted toxic fluorocarbons and used polystyrene dinnerware into the East River so’s not to clog up sewers. Lord knows I want to do my part. I can’t decide if I should sign up for meditational yoga or extreme metal shop welding. It’s a complete toss up, but my migraine neurologist and special needs hand/eye coordination coach have expressed their reservations of me handling a blowtorch around gas-soaked retarded children and highly flammable senior citizens.

I’m curbing deforestation of my lady garden until the soil samples come back 'negative,'

Kristin

Song of the Day:

The Raconteurs, “Salute Your Solution”