I’ve been accepted to Yale… even though I graduated from a safety school over a decade ago and never applied.
A confession from whoever stole my bike saying their guilt is so overwhelming they’re starting a daily newsletter centered around how bad they feel and will continue to feel for the rest of eternity.
I’ve been accepted to be in a family with LeBron James.
A cure for balding is officially here.
My boss letting me know that he has approved my sabbatical which I plan to use to solve my wife’s murder. The case was closed years ago, but something just doesn’t sit right.
Here’s the REAL cure for balding. The previous cure was just asbestos, please throw out immediately.
A mysterious message from someone warning me that they’ve killed before and will kill again. Could this be my wife’s true killer?
An update on my roommate’s locations so I can properly time when I can eat my all-bread dinner without feeling shame.
An email from my dentist telling me my “amazing set of chompers” has captivated him. He wants to see them again.
The last 20 years of my life were actually just a simulation… I can do it over…this is not spam.
The message from my wife’s killer taunting me, but the arrogance gives away one too many details, allowing me to discover their true identity.
An acceptance letter into my uncle’s social club where he and his friends debate the perfect chino/blazer pairings (or at the very least an explanation as to why I wasn’t accepted).
A message from my wife revealing she was the killer this whole time. She wanted to see how committed I would be to finding her killer and now that she sees my years of dedication she wants to marry me again.
An updated cure for balding. The previous cure was asbestos again. Throw out.