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Breaking News: I Can't Fucking Do This Anymore


After months of investigative reporting conducted by The Haystack, sources indicate that I can’t fucking do this anymore.


The investigation was first opened when it was discovered that I was just straight up leaving Zoom meetings in the middle because I didn’t want to be there and couldn’t be bothered to stay. Further scientific study carried out by top researchers at Harvard found that I am prone to eating dry ramen in bed while sobbing and listening to Frank Ocean, a sure sign that I really am done with this shit.


“This is a classic case of what we in the medical community call ‘being so unbelievably over this nonsense that you just can’t take it,’” reported my doctor, Dr. Dickwad M.D. “Symptoms include headaches, nausea, and an inability to come up with even slightly realistic character names.”


According to those with inside knowledge of the situation, I am fucking gross. The Haystack interviewed sources close to me, who are reportedly “repulsed” by my lifestyle and “don’t enjoy spending time around me because I keep writing limericks about how depressed I am.” In their defense, they’re right. Here’s one now!


There once was a person who sucked

Their noggin was totally fucked

They cried all the time

And they really can’t rhyme

So they reused the expletive ‘fucked.’


Just a little taste of what I can do.


This nihilistic attitude affects not only my personal life, but also my academic life, according to a reputable source (me).


“They didn’t come to our tutorial meeting because they got so emotional over a Subaru commercial that they needed to lie face down on the floor for a few hours,” said my tutorial partner, who should probably take that giant stick out of their ass.


Professors have described my work using words such as “deeply upsetting,” and “utterly incoherent.”


“I tried reaching out to I about their recent paper, entitled [groaning sounds],” said one of my professors, Professor Fuckface McJerkoff. “But when I tried to offer constructive feedback, they put their fingers in their ears and hummed Old McDonald until I signed off.” This report is substantiated by the fact that I did in fact do that.


When asked for comment, I said: “Every week I sit on my floor and open my laptop and write my silly little articles and pitch my silly little pitches, and for what? So someone will tell me I’m funny? So someone will, for one brief, shining moment, stroke my broken ego? And what then? Will I finally feel like I’m more than just a whiny sycophant with a latex allergy and combination skin? That maybe, just maybe, I’m a good person? Or will I be overshadowed once again by an article about ketamine? I am Sisyphus, and this is my boulder. I am finally ready to let it crush me.”

Editors-in-Chief

Lucy Walker     Noah Cohen-Greenberg     Sam Mermin