Call me Ishmael. Just kidding, my name is Herman. Whomever reads this message that I have put into a bottle, I am stranded out in the middle of the Atlantic, and I can guarantee that you and I are not in the same boat. I ran out of Doritos about an hour ago and all I see are seagulls. Man, I picked the wrong week to become a vegetarian. How am I going to get food? I could become a cannibal, but I’m the only human here, and that would end up costing me an arm and a leg. Being trapped in this little boat seems to be a perfect metaphor of my current life. I mean, I am pretty useless. I’m a lumberjack from Easter Island for goodness sake. Google that if you don’t know why that isn’t useful. Nevertheless, the most important thing is for me to not lose hope. And by hope, I mean my golden retriever named Hope. My kids would be very disappointed in me if I lost our dog in a 3 by 3 foot boat.

Earlier today a friend asked me if I wanted to watch Twilight with them, and I told them I would rather be stranded in the middle of the ocean. What are the odds? If only I had a radio of some sort. I really miss the village people. Not the people from my actual home, of course, I’m talking about the people who did the choreographed “YMCA” song and dance. Man, I picked the wrong week to purchase a year-long membership to the local YMCA.

Can you do me a favor? Can you tell my wife that I loved her? Emphasis on the “loved.” Our marriage hasn’t worked out that well. “I’m only marrying you because I need American citizenship to keep my job” probably wasn’t a good foundation for the marriage to be built on.

It’s taken me an estimated five months to write this letter. Right as I wrote, “marriage to be built on,” I sneezed and dropped my pen into the ocean and immediately a seagull picked it up and flew off with it. I didn’t realize I had a pencil on the inside of my coat pocket until I reached into it looking for a tissue this morning. Don’t you hate when that happens?

I was really concerned about toilet paper but fortunately I have two books about Donald Trump. Who would’ve thought those books would’ve been good for anything? Anyhow, I don’t have any clue where I am. Unfortunately, the only geographical reference point I can give you is that I am by the huge body of water. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to cancel my year-long membership at the YMCA. And remember, don’t blink. Don’t even blink. Blink and you’re dead. They’re fast, faster than you can believe. Don’t turn your back, don’t look away, and don’t blink. Good luck.

Horgan is a member of the class of 2017.

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