[Editor's note: The following note was found on the quad of a local university last Sunday morning. Written in what appears to be a densely layered code, the note has been translated into proper, polite English for educational purposes only, by Chas Bowie. The Mercury hopes that this document might be the Rosetta Stone that enriches our understanding of this oft-misunderstood generation.]

Wazzon lactard? Dunny slept hard on the conference last night. Shit was straight Coke Blak—choc-a-block o' chicas. Lauren was recockulously sedacious, even though Jill had a massive bout of bitchilism. I'm all set for some dicky-dunking, so I remove Lauren's shirsey, and mistress is packing choobs! But don't hate, appreciate, right? Jake the Snake came out, but hold up!—Ruby Tuesday. Two tears in a bucket; I went straight Crocodile Hunter. I was too stambened to gak, so I hit the bog and fed the ducks. Laterwards, I'm laying some wolf bait, right? But there's not even one crapworth of Yugio cards left, so there I am, standing dirty. It's Jesus, though, because next to the n00bs thurr, I know I was a trill muha-fuhka. Remaining mentionable was that Moose gave Jay-Leezy a tickle whip. Wangsta was serially Al Jaffe! Straight alpaca sex, yo! One love, brethren. Tyova mama suka!—JoJo Dancer


How are you, my mentally challenged, lactose- intolerant friend? You foolishly missed last night's party. It was a lively affair that went until all hours of the evening. There were many attractive women there. Lauren looked ridiculously fetching, despite Jill's sour mood. As I prepared for intimacy with Lauren, I de-bloused her, only to discover that her breasts were those of a child. I try to keep a positive outlook, though. I took off my pants, only to learn that she was menstruating. "Oh well," I thought, as I placed my, ahem, "stingray" on her sternum. I was too intoxicated to achieve climax, however, so I excused myself to the lavatory to masturbate. I was compelled to move my bowels, but afterward, there was nary enough toilet paper to complete the task, so I was in the unfortunate position of rejoining the party with a muddy bottom. It was still okay, though, because in comparison to the less-hip males there, I know I was still desirable. The only other thing that happened was the Moose ejaculated in John's hand while John slept, and then tickled his nose. When John brushed Moose's hand away, he inadvertently wiped the semen across his own face. He was angered to say the least! It was one of those things that was completely disturbing, but too fascinating to turn away from. Your friendship means a lot to me. (The last sentence is Ukrainian for "Your mom is a bitch." We are sorry that we do not have a more polite translation.)—Joseph Maxamillian Cornwall III