R.I.P. Dwayne Bartleby.
Dwayne Bartleby, beloved son of Stella and Earl, stepson of Rodney and nephew of Dolores, passed away Wednesday in the comfort of his Wannamaker dorm room.
A perennial honor student and friend to animals, Dwayne died, a victim of his own indifference. He had seen P. Diddy nearly ruin the Video Music Awards with his message. Sway pounded it into his skull during every Real World commercial break.
The early voting period came and went. Dwayne refused to go because he heard it was a right-wing conspiracy where they take your vote and put in the same place socks go when they disappear from the dryer.
And he was just busy all day Tuesday. And how can you blame him? He had a lot to do between going to classes, breaking the gates on campus parking lots and ironing his jeans.
He swore he was going to vote, but TBS had a Naked Gun marathon. Enrico Pallazzo and The Juice, man. The Juice.
“Vote or Die” was the slogan and it was no jive. Once midnight struck Tuesday our dear classmate began his precipitous decline.
The first sign was compulsive lying about not eating his roommate’s Pop-Tarts, and lying again when he definitely farted during Old School. The situation worsened when Dwayne began to flip-flop on the issue of which Maxim Paris Hilton looked better in (by the way August 2003 is no match for April 2004). From that point, there wasn’t much anyone could do other than to write “balls” on his forehead in permanent marker as he peacefully departed the temporal world.
A memorial service will be held on Saturday at 7 a.m. in the Sarah P. Duke Gardens near the pond with all the goldfish. In lieu of flowers, donations can be made out to the Wannamaker II Beer Fund. — Sean Biederman
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