Dear Manmuncher readers, or reader, or… anyone? Who am I kidding:

Dear Mom,

Thank you for all of your fan mail and comments. Please feel free to keep them coming. It was my pleasure to provide you with an entire semester of unsolicited opinions on nothing of actual merit.

But, I don’t want you to think the fun is all over! Oh no, there is so much more you can get out of these useless rambles.

First, you could turn them into a drinking game: Every grammatical error, misspelling or nonsensical statement, take a shot!

My grammar is about equivalent to that of a monkey. In fact, I think monkeys beat me on that section of the ACT. I just kind of make it up as I go! Making you pause. And yell, wherever I think would be fun. I’m the writer. I know how I want it: read.

Anyway, my columns are slaughtered when I submit them. I don’t think anyone really knows what to do with my sentences, leaving the final copies still riddled with errors. You will be so plastered maybe you’ll actually find me funny!

That is kind of how I think the public opinion of me is in general:

The world’s sober opinion of Lindsey: “Um, what is like… wrong? Is she OK? I don’t understand what she is saying. I think it might be funny, but I am not totally sure I get it. Oh my, that is so offensive!”

The world’s drunk opinion of Lindsey: “Wahoo! Lindsey makes me LOL! She is so funny and a genius! LOL.”

Right, back to the list: You could deface my photo. The newspaper staff was kind enough to provide you with a photo of my shining face in most of the print editions. I will not allow my efforts to be in vain.

Do you know what a challenge submitting that was? I had to go find a photo where both of my eyes were open and pointing in the same direction (the left one does not always pull its own weight), Photoshop the weird chin rash out (it was taken in Puerto Rico, and I have sensitive skin.) and make it look normal enough so when you read the column and went, “This is weird,” you did not see the photo and go, “Oh, that’s why.”

So go take advantage of it! Cut it out, draw offensive things on it, shred it up angrily, blow it up and make a dart board out of it, get it put on a milk carton, Photoshop it into obscene pictures, eat it or send it to your grandma.

Or, read my column backwards to find the secret messages. I stole the idea from Britney Spears.

You could use it to paper-mache your roommate’s favorite things, and when she gets super mad at you tell her you were just trying to preserve their stuff. When she asks, “From what?” make your eyes really big and whisper, “THEM,” slowly backing away and twitching a bit.

Psychoanalyze my column. Use it as a case study for your psychology dissertation, “How Mental Issues Manifest in Writing.” I am totally fucked up, I promise. There are so many afflictions lying beyond these words.

Maybe crush it up and throw it at neurotic journalism students. They are all so high-strung that their breaking point is likely only one newspaper ball to the head away!

Don’t feel limited by these options. There are so many more uses. You can use it as teepee when drunkenly peeing in public, make origami or give it to your foreign exchange student. You are solely restricted by the bounds of your imagination.

See you at home, Mom.

Love,

Lindsey Wehking (Pretend Journalist)