Good day esteemed college administrators. I know that you must recieve countless letters and emails everyday, boring you with GPA's and SAT's and talks of PHD's. But I, for one, will bestow upon you a feeling of excitement and adrenaline. A feeling of fear, but also deep respect. Many feelings of lust and affection, but I feel we should ignore those particular feelings in order to keep this professional.
I was born in the deepest of woods, raised by the angriest of wolves, living through the most dazzling tales of adventure. When I was a child, I took a day trip away from the woods, onwards to the bustling metropolis of New Orleans. There, I saved a bus full of Cuban refugees from falling off a cliff, using only a paring knife and dental floss. Afterwards, I sent them back to Cuba, because I don't support illegal immigration. It was when the Mayor gave me the key to the city that I decided to leave my woodland burrow. Adjusting to city life proved to be quite difficult; in my first year I only scored a 99% average in my classes. Trust me, those days are behind me. My teachers must have some kind of cliche-ridden coach advising them, because they're always giving 110 percent...to me. Barack Obama frequently asks me for fashion advice, Joe Sakic bugs me for pointers on his wrist shot, and Charlie Sheen always asks me for the number of my cocaine dealer.
When poring over the long list of college applications, with all of them basically saying the same thing, remember this diamond in the rough. This application-God amongst application-men. A beautiful flower, surrounded by dirt and manure. Even if you won't admit it, but this letter will stick with you. Implanted in your brain like some kind of disgusting insect, you'll feel it tickling in the back of your mind as you eat, work, and sleep. This will continue until you die, or I am accepted into your institution. Whichever comes first.
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