To the dudes and dudettes that find themselves stumbling onto this page, we at the fine magazine of The Binghamton University Times Tribune humbly apologize for the inactivity over the past week. Our entire staff took a weeklong sabbatical after the 4/20 holiday, meaning we all got lost in the woods high as fuck. We all Cheech and Chong’d a massive bong, and finished off a delectable brownie platter in the nature preserve in hopes to find the meaning in life. In the midst of our holiday celebrations, we forgot about the fact that we had no idea where we were. As the sun began to set, and the pitch black darkness of the night encompassed our surroundings, we decided that the best possible solution was to smoke more hash. It did not help our situation whatsoever, but, it was pretty fucking lit.
On the seventh day, in a dazed and confused state, the rising sun of dawn appeared on the horizon, in the shape of Jared Leto’s Morbius, or who many readers may refer to as God. The Chosen One, our almighty vampiric Sun God Morbius proclaimed that he necessitated a ritual sacrifice of one BUTT writer, and in return he would give us salvation, or at least the GPS coordinates back to campus. The group cast a vote and decided that I was the best candidate to be devoured because I’m a bit of an asshole, and would probably taste good with a side of fava beans and a nice chianti. I would never resort to cannibalism, but I would also never dare deny the Word of Morbius, and I get it, those munchies can get pretty bad. As I write this before my impending death, my fellow BUTT writers chant,
“Not just a vampire
Greatest Leto of all time
Where my Morb-Heads at?”
before ripping my heart out of my chest, and screaming eulogies towards the Morbius in the sky. Anywho, I hope y’all had a great 420, and enjoy the use of recreational drugs before Russia ends the world in total nuclear annihilation.