Hi guys, it was late at night, I was tired, and thought, "Why not take a different approach to this prompt?" I thought that since this was meant to be an informal letter/essay, why not have some fun? Anyways, the result was this wacky letter. I hope that my personality and bits and pieces of myself will show through this letter! Any critique or advice will be greatly appreciated!
The prompt is to "Virtually all of Stanford's undergraduates live on campus. Write a note to your future roommate that reveals something about you or that will help your roommate - and us - know you better."
To whom this may concern,
If you are reading this, it could mean one of two things. A, you are a government spy, desperately trying to get a hold of my blueprints for a foot robot. In that case, I'm sorry, but this letter contains nothing of the National Security Level. Also, that you will never, EVER, find my blueprints (:p this is me mocking you). Or B, I'm on the run from the government, and you are the school janitor, here to clean out my room. You probably stumbled upon this letter by accident. In that case, sorry about the scorched marks on the wall... My scaled robot prototype failed the first -- 152 times... make that 153. Anyhow lets continue with this "letter".
Surprised aren't you? At how clean this room is for a college student? Well, if you took care of a younger brother for a majority of your life, and are a level 92 Master Cleaner, cleaning is second nature. Also you might be wondering why there are a stack of cook books on my desk. No, my blueprints for killer robot dinosaurs are not in there; no, my secret Swiss bank account where Mobs wire my "allowances" is not there; no, it is not "just" a cook book... well, yes it is. Don't judge. I love to cook, and it has been a passion of mine for the longest time, second to building 50 foot robots. Look, I was either going to be a 50 foot robot when I grow up, or an Iron Chef, and I thought, "Hey, why not be a 50 foot Iron Chef robot?" But then I realized that making food proportional to a 50 foot robot was impractical and childish, so I just stuck to normal, human sized, cooking.
Next on the list, beware of bugs. No, I don't like bugs. Yes I appreciate their existence, but not their existence in my room. Why not kill them then you ask? It is because I HATE the feeling of squished bugs, and my roommate refused to kill them in my stead. Luckily, I speak bug, and I bribed them with bread crumbs to stay away from my belongings.
Well, my Hot Pockets are done, and I am out of ramblings...
Sincerely,
A 50 Foot Robot :)
The prompt is to "Virtually all of Stanford's undergraduates live on campus. Write a note to your future roommate that reveals something about you or that will help your roommate - and us - know you better."
To whom this may concern,
If you are reading this, it could mean one of two things. A, you are a government spy, desperately trying to get a hold of my blueprints for a foot robot. In that case, I'm sorry, but this letter contains nothing of the National Security Level. Also, that you will never, EVER, find my blueprints (:p this is me mocking you). Or B, I'm on the run from the government, and you are the school janitor, here to clean out my room. You probably stumbled upon this letter by accident. In that case, sorry about the scorched marks on the wall... My scaled robot prototype failed the first -- 152 times... make that 153. Anyhow lets continue with this "letter".
Surprised aren't you? At how clean this room is for a college student? Well, if you took care of a younger brother for a majority of your life, and are a level 92 Master Cleaner, cleaning is second nature. Also you might be wondering why there are a stack of cook books on my desk. No, my blueprints for killer robot dinosaurs are not in there; no, my secret Swiss bank account where Mobs wire my "allowances" is not there; no, it is not "just" a cook book... well, yes it is. Don't judge. I love to cook, and it has been a passion of mine for the longest time, second to building 50 foot robots. Look, I was either going to be a 50 foot robot when I grow up, or an Iron Chef, and I thought, "Hey, why not be a 50 foot Iron Chef robot?" But then I realized that making food proportional to a 50 foot robot was impractical and childish, so I just stuck to normal, human sized, cooking.
Next on the list, beware of bugs. No, I don't like bugs. Yes I appreciate their existence, but not their existence in my room. Why not kill them then you ask? It is because I HATE the feeling of squished bugs, and my roommate refused to kill them in my stead. Luckily, I speak bug, and I bribed them with bread crumbs to stay away from my belongings.
Well, my Hot Pockets are done, and I am out of ramblings...
Sincerely,
A 50 Foot Robot :)