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Positive Sinking - Fruity Normalcy

By Akshay Patil

Features editor

Dear king of sin or are u a sinking king?

i am not writing this for you, but for the benefit of timmy or jimmy or whatever the hell his name was. i found your rantings on the lack of e-mail to be quite humorous, but i could not sit idly by and watch jimmy or timmy get hurt. as for your lovely little column... i think you should touch on lemons, or something fun like that. or you could rant and rave about how much fun it is when a lady has “lucky you” written in the zipper of her pants. let your creative juices flow. as for jimmy or timmy i suggest that you donate a pet penguin to his poor little orphanage. you have spares... do you not?

--lady fish

Timmy thanks you, I thank you, the American people thank you. I would love to touch lemons, if only there were lemons around to touch on.

Sadly, I have no fruit near me, as I am but a humble college student. My fridge contains a water filter, an aging gallon of milk, and specters of my last trip home. And a can of ginger ale. Don’t quite remember how that got in there.

The main point is that my room is utterly devoid of fruit. Or vegetables. Or any sort of food, for that matter. It does have lots of computers though; you know what they say “A computer a day keeps the...” Uhm, I guess they don't really say anything along those lines actually.

I guess not enough studies have been done on the nutritional benefits of hardware ingestion. Pity they haven’t, otherwise how else will we know our daily recommended allowance of bits?

I’ve never had the joyous experience of meeting a lady with “lucky you” written on her pants zipper. Of course, the problem might be that. I’ve never really looked... perhaps I should? Somehow I'm worried about adverse reactions I might encounter should I start requesting the right to examine other people’s crotch area. Don't people tend to get a bit uppity about those sort of things? I’m not the expert on these sort of things, but I can only imagine that it's a sensitive area for most people (Ha! A pun!).

Oh, I haven’t written a pun in ages. It feels good. It really does. You should try it sometime. It's like a catharsis of all the pent up needing-to-write-a-pun emotion that just brews within you until you find yourself thinking terribly punny things to say in the wrong company; the kind of company that doesn't appreciate crotch examination... i.e. everyone but dogs. Anyways, I greatly recommend it, but let’s not belabor that point, shall we?

I would donate a penguin if I had one. As of now, my penguin situation is even worse than my food shortage. Except I don’t have pictures of food all around my room, haunting me from every angle. That’d be kinda weird. Not that having lots of pictures of penguins in my room is that much less weird, now that I think about it. But, I mean, come on, who can blame me? I mean, penguins. Penguins. You know what I'm talkin’ about... right? Right? Oh... you don’t. Ah well, normalcy is over-rated these days anyways.

Six out of five doctors recommend taking 15-20 minutes out of your day, every day, to send e-mail to sinking@mit.edu. Clinical studies have shown this lowers the chances of bitching and cancer, as well as increasing the size of whatever body part you're particularly keen on increasing. Seriously. Just ask your inbox.