Honest Alumni Newsletter Updates: The Rejected Pile

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Betsy Whitlock,’ 89, I am dead. Kidding.

Betsy Whitlock, ’89, Update. I am dead inside. Not kidding.

Harmon Low,’ 84, I am divorced and also dead inside. Not kidding about any of this.

Fanny Madison, ‘74, Scheduled to die any day. Eye sockets so crusty. Paralyzed, but still  quite lusty. Deathbed bound, but effortlessly busty. (majoring in poetry was a blessing and a curse) Shall I pull out this IV now? Thank you newsletter for letting me immortalize myself via PROSE and VERSE.

Joe Armitson,’16, I’m currently working as the associate director of advertising  at Johnson & Johnson, and am teetering on the edge of sanity. Oh believe you me, I’ve tried to get fired by pouring baby powder all myself in Conference Room B mid power-point presentation, AND by having a wet cough that never goes away, but heck, the CEO “adores my aura,” (the basic bastard who NEVER tips at steakhouses). So alas my fellow grads, I’m here to stay at J& J until I perish, mostly likely due to a public, outlandish, oral ingestion of shower gel. In the mean time, please email me if your baby needs free soap.

Ashley Flack,’09 My book deal on yoga entitled NAMA-ASHLEY  fell thru you crusty third eye biatches. There were lots of sexy, sensual pictures of me that my polyamorous lovers took of me on in PORTRAIT MODE with a kelvin filter, but I guess that’s not good enough for Random House. Who names their publishing company RANDOM anyway? What r u, some kind of incel rapper youtuber who lives in his mom’s basement? I live with my mother too, but she is an invalid who NEEDS me.  Anywho, Go cats! Or was it lions for our mascot? I am 4 Sauvingnons deep. 

Brenda Hallaway, ‘11, I’ve been working at Newsday as a junior obituary reporter for 7 years now. I have not been promoted ONCE. Not once. Well watch out, because tonight is our company karaoke party, and I will be singing  Colors of the Wind at full volume, and plan on emphasizing the lyric, “ You think i’m an ignorant savage,” while staring viciously into my boss’s retinas. If that doesn’t get me out of this stagnant news life I might start reporting certain people dead who aren’t actually deceased ( yet.) I.e. Bob my CEO died tragically in a from karaoke chicken wings cyanide accident. Oh poo. FUCK THE PATRIARCHY.

Deonna Bankerson,’16, I’ve been selected  to teach as a fellow for the Peace Corp, but I desperately want to be a contestant on America’s Got Talent, as I can play  viola with my pinky toe. Do you know how hard that is?  Tyra would adore me I know, but heck, my toes are strong and should be in combat boots that help build houses in deserts. Curse my social justice specialization. 

Fritzie Andrade, ’08, I write this from prison. I am a grave robber. Is it my fault i lost my virginity in the cemetery on the edge of campus? No it is not. Perhaps if my R A wasn’t a total loser, I would have been able to have sex in my room like a normal freshman. But alas, my brain chemistry’s all tweaked from graveyard bone-ing. ( ha, get it?) Anywho, I don’t mind the food here. 

Meghan Grayson, ’09, I have three children already. Triplets. One shot. IVF is one hell of a drug. I don’t sleep. I named my kids Peter, Paul, and Mary. I don’t even like their music if I’m being honest.

Penis, ’99, Okay my name isn’t PENIS. But you know who was a penis?? Dean Andrews. That cuck. Just so you know, Dean, smoking PCP in the parking lot is an essential part of being on the university marching band. I never graduated is it okay to submit?

Kate Thimbly, ’14,  BITCH SALLIE MAE WON’T STOP CALLING ME. I REGRET COLLEGE. I SELL T SHIRTS ONLINE.

Hunter Frig, ’05, I am so poor. Not kidding.

Juno Frias, ’04, Okay so I’ve gone bankrupt. Truly not kidding.

Gregory King, ’03, Please tell Sallie Mae I’m dead. Go Lions!

 

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