Dear College Student,

We are writing from the future to let you know that you need to stop – immediately. Your lifestyle is not healthy and we are not pleased. Take this to heart (or rather let him take it to you) before it is too late.


Well hello, my stalwart companion. It is I, the Brain. I must say, it was with great reservation and hesitance that I wrote you, being an organ ostensibly committed to thinking and thus, partial to planning rather than acting. Nevertheless, I felt that your life had regressed to a dangerously dismal level and I knew that action was required. So it is with that sentiment in mind that I hope you receive my words, and I trust that we will remain friends.

Your simian countenance suggests that my verbiage has caught you off guard and unaware and I should like to make my statement clear and unequivocal in language you might better understand. Allow me to modify my speech so as to delineate my point with greater lucidity. Ahem.

Lay off the drugs.

I hear your protests and I know you must think that you are doing nothing unusual by taking mass quantities of marijuana, cocaine, and ecstacy, and perhaps you are not. Perhaps many, many people take these drugs. You will also notice that many, many people are stupid, mouth-breathing, ape-like dipshits. I guess what I am saying is, your argument is flawed. Again, lay off the drugs.

On a more positive note, your reading habits are excellent. Literacy is the foundation of a healthy mind, a noble spirit, and a more enlightened outlook on life, and while your class attendance leaves much to be desired, your keen awareness of Jenna Jameson's bust size and filmography is rather impressive. But try reading some philosophy, history, or biology as well. Just a thoughtful tip from your good buddy Brain. I'll let you go now. Penis wants to speak.


I just wanna start by saying that I'm not trying to be a dick or nothing. It is just that Me and Balls have been talking and we think that you need to spend more time with us and less time with those skanky whores from the Delta house. We are very, very sick and now, so are they. To be completely honest, we are exhausted, hurt, and leaking. Now it's not that we don't enjoy going caving, riding the chocolate train, and punching Tonsils, it's just that there is such a thing as too much of a good thing and there is also a pretty clear relationship between the amount of action we've had together and the number of children you are paying to raise. Also, Herpes is a bitch of a houseguest.


So do us a favor and just take it easy, okay?


YOU BASTARD. You think this body is a goddamn playground? You think you can flood me with cheap booze and leave me scarred and broken? If I die, you die, you hear me? You sonofabitch, I swear to God when I get out of here, I'm gonna rip your fraggin' head off you rat bastard. Hold me back Stomach, I'm gonna fuck this asshole up. You are a dead man. I will smash your head in with a tire iron and wrap your torso in rusty barbed wire so tight that every breath you take will be tissue slicing agony not meant for this world. Your days are numbered. I'll see you in Hell.


Hey, sorry about that. He is still kind of bitter. Anyway, it's time to listen to your heart. I'm the guy who makes you feel things. I know, I know. My job is kind of gay, but it is necessary. If it weren't for me, you would be a completely emotionless, void and vapid human shell. It is because of me that you can appreciate things like love, beauty, and chick flicks. I'm not perfect, and neither are you, but together we make a pretty damn good team.

Which brings me to my next point. You remember Anna? Of course you do. You were in love with her and she was in love with you. But then you cheated on her with that whore Vicky and now you are alone. I'm not here to tell you that you fucked up, but if you do not know that by now, let me be the first to say it – You fucked up.

The point is, it is not too late. She is pissed and you are lonely, but you both are still young and you can make it up to her if you want. Do something nice for a change. Buy her flowers, write her a poem, return her CDs. Anything at all is a start. And the next time you have sex with her, when it is all said and done and she tells you that she loves you, don't roll over and say, "You don't love me, you just love my doggystyle." Sure it's hilarious and you saw it in an old Snoop Dogg video, but that doesn't mean you have to actually say it. Just smile, whisper I love you back, and the next time you're hanging out with your friends away from her, tell them that that is what you said. Trust me, you'll be a lot less single if you do it that way.

So that about wraps it up for us organs, but I'll leave you with these parting words: Respect your body, respect yourself, respect your fellow man and woman. Because if you don't, you will wind up retarded, lonely, writhing with Herpes, and your liver will beat you dead with a tire iron. Sweet dreams.

Your pals,

Penis, Liver, Brain, and Heart