My MFA Needs YOU
Friends, Colleagues and Brothers in Creative Mêlée,
Most of you know that ever since I was a little boy, all I ever wanted to do was write. You may recall that I started a novel at age 7. The Connecticut Star covered it in their ‘Little Stars’ section back in ’99. An orphaned New York City boy stumbles across a penny and — spoiler alert — actually picks it up. A Subway conductor emerges and grants him three wishes. I guess you could liken it to a Metropolitan spin on Aladdin. I won’t give away the rest.
I’m not one to ask for senseless handouts; I manually filter my own tap water but friends, my magnus opus needs this. Please contribute to my MFA fund and help give the gift of literature. If not for me, than for the orphaned boy in search of a lucky penny.
Todd Oliver IV
My Boyfriend’s Testicular Lump
Kyle turned 27 on Wednesday. He wished for a new Tucker Max novel and a Swingers sequel. Instead, Kyle found a bump — the size of a pre-menstrual chin pimple — on his left testicle. Kyle then received his second birthday surprise of the day. A notice stipulating that his parents’ health insurance would no longer cover him. The nail was put in the proverbial coffin when an incompetent representative informed me that Kyle would not be eligible for Obamacare until September.
Kyle insists he doesn’t need to see a doctor, that this meteor of a lump is just what it looks like, a pimple on his left testicle. However, after witnessing the pre-mature death of my goldfish earlier this month, I just can’t take the chance. I’m asking for a nickel, a Benjamin, that leftover Euro you only keep in your wallet because it looks cool.
I would cover the expense myself but my spiritual Shaman just doubled his session fee and I am broke with a capital B.
Uber Doesn’t Care That It Was My Birthday
Dear Friends I Haven’t Seen Since I Puked in Your Succulent During the Delta Gamma New Recruits Soiree,
I woke up this morning to find a $112.00 receipt from last night’s Uber ride. Last night was meant to be the best night of my life. I celebrated my 25th birthday and drank pickleback shots in Bedstuy because this was supposed to be a year of risk taking. Now it looks like 25 will be the year I drown in debt.
I listened for 35 minutes as my Uber driver recalled his sad-sack journey from war-torn wherever to the States, and this is how I’m rewarded? Old people poo on our generation for being finicky narcissists but I love us. We are compassionate and resilient. I know I’ll get through this, but I’m not above asking for a little help.
All supplementary funds will go towards celebrating my 26th birthday. I’m thinking we go to Astoria (as in Queens) next year.
Help Me Help the Reddit Community Solve the Making a Murderer Mystery
Dear Internet and Specifically Johnny Depp,
I recently found myself without a partner. Heartbreak is never easy. I wouldn’t wish the experience of having to divide one’s assets on my worst enemy. Claire and I remain civil. To our Levethian’s 24,000 dedicated Instagram followers, you’ll be relieved to hear that we’ve agreed to share custody of our beloved sharpei pug mix. The frequency of his posts and brand partnerships will not be affected.
Unfortunately, the row over our mutual Netflix account hasn’t been so easily settled. The separation has come at the worst possible moment. I am on episode 6 of Making a Murderer and feel a plot twist a-rumbling. I’ve been following the trial closely with my Reddit family. Claire’s made it clear that she doesn’t need me, but my Reddit family does.
I’m hoping that with your help, I can be the proud owner of my own Netflix account. There is no minimum or limit as far as contributions go. All I ask is that you act quickly. I’d like to have this all sorted out by the time Bloodline Season 2 streams.
Onwards and Upwards,
Crowd Fund My Effort to Defund Planned Parenthood
Or let the guilt lay on your conscious forever.
I’d write my name, but you have that information already, don’t you.