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COMMUNITY Man dies living day like it was his last


strokes, you know?” said officer Miles Landon, who was present at the scene of the crash. “Te guy was definitely living like there was no tomorrow – which I guess for him there isn’t, now. Funny how that works.” James Horn, a coworker of Adams, said


the deceased had spent the earlier part of the day behaving in a manner unbefitting of a person restrained by the conventions of future consequence or accountability. “Greg showed up for work right on time,


Above: Adams poses for a photo before riding a fast, dangerous motorcycle like there was no tomorrow.


Newark, N.J. – Greg Adams, a computer soſtware engineer at Adobe Systems, died Monday only hours aſter a radio talk show host advised the unmarried 31-year-old to begin living every day of his life like it was his last day on Earth. “Te deceased phoned into the morning


Straight Talk advice show complaining that his life felt meaningless,” said Pat Rowing, the show’s host. “I gave the caller the typical ‘Life is what you make it’ pep- talk and told him to start living every day like it’s his last. Unfortunately, the caller


EDITORIAL It’s a living


You know, supplying motive power to an assortment of prehistoric household items ain’t always a picnic. Te hours are long, and the tasks are oſten pretty


hours blowing air on a fireplace by having their legs repeatedly squeezed back and forth. Tey’ve also likely never sat inside a 10-pound granite camera, chiseling images onto tablets with their beaks in the 90-degree heat. Ten again, who am I to complain? A lot of these poor fellas don’t even have enough money to take care of their wives and kids. Yeah, the work I do can be pretty grueling some days, but at least it’s enough to put a few worms in the ol’ nest. What can I tell you? It’s a living. Contrary to what you might have


By Rex the Pterodactyl


thankless. I mean, geez, let’s be frank: a lot of birds out there probably have more free time than I do. Instead of engaging in the drudgery of repetitive manual labor, they’re hanging out in the park or flying south for the winter or whatever. Chances are they’ve never spent eight


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heard, most anthropomorphic feathered vertebrates can count on landing some form of gainful employment. If you’re not afraid of a solid day’s work, chances are you won’t have to line up at the ol’ welfare office all that oſten. Gosh knows I’ve been able to hold on to a bunch of decent jobs over the years: intercom, hedge clipper, crochet needle, car horn – the list goes on.


Heck, in my younger years I even spent a couple of summers working as a pie maker. I’d use my beak to trim the extra crust around the pan, and then crimp the top and bottom crust together with my feet. It was good, honest work, and hey, if you kept your mouth shut and minded your Ps and Qs, at the end of the day they’d give you some free pie filling to take home to la familia. Sure, a job like that ain’t the most glamorous thing in the


Supplying motive power to an


world. But I’ll tell you this much for free: It’s a living. I’ve been hearing a lot of talk about


electricity someday being harnessed and used as a means of power generation. You know, like some sort of energy conversion system capable of independently fueling


various home and industrial appliances. Guys down at the pub are saying when that day comes, birds everywhere will be emancipated, finally freed from their “oppressive shackles,” whatever that’s supposed to mean. All I can say about that is, does “freedom” mean not having the money to cover your water bill every month? ‘Cause I’ll tell you something: if you’re even a few days late on a payment, those elephant trunks are gonna stop spraying. Yep, if it’s all the same, I think I’ll


assortment of prehistoric household items ain’t always a picnic.


keep on doing what I’m doing. A little dirt under the ol’ claws sure as shucks never hurt anybody. Heck, some people say you haven’t truly


worked until you’ve taken a job as an agitator for a washing machine. And you know something? I have a feeling they might be right. Tis line of work may not look like much to a lot of folks out there, but at the end of the day, one thing’s for sure: it’s a living.


appears to have taken that advice a bit too literally.” According to sources, Adams was


pronounced dead on the scene shortly before midnight aſter crashing a rented motorcycle into a concrete highway abutment at 180 miles per hour while slugging tequila and wearing nothing but an athletic supporter. “Speeding naked through the streets


jacked up on booze isn’t exactly the first thing that I would think to do with my last day on Earth, but hey, different


but instead of sitting down at his desk he marched right up to our boss and told him to go fuck himself,” said Horn. “Ten he said really loudly, ‘I’ll see all you suckers later – like never!’ and headed toward the exit. [Coworker] Fay [Joyce] said Greg grabbed the receptionist and planted one on her on the way out the door. I didn’t know if maybe he’d won the lottery or something, but at that point we were all pretty sure we’d seen the last of Greg.” Added Horn: “Boy, were we right about


that.” Witnesses reported seeing Adams carry


out a number of other indulgent, reckless and vindictive activities that reflected Adams’ commitment to living the day like it was his last. “I saw Greg in a shop downtown


maxing out three of his credit cards on a flashy silk suit,” said Kara Hardings, an acquaintance of Adams’. “I asked him what the occasion was and all he said


was that he was ‘going out in style,’ so I figured he was just getting ready for a fancy dinner or something.” Adams was later spotted at a five-star


restaurant surrounded by four scantily clad female escorts and ordering one helping of every item on the menu. In addition to spending his entire life


Adams was pronounced dead on


savings and available credit on superficial, instantly gratifying luxuries, Adams also confessed to his best friend Eric Meyers about having slept with Meyers’ girlfriend; streaked across Giants Stadium during the Monday Night Football game; and set his ex-girlfriend Julie Cason’s car on fire during her daily tanning appointment. Dr. Patrick


the scene shortly before midnight aſter crashing a rented motorcycle into a concrete highway abutment at 180 miles per hour while slugging tequila and wearing nothing but an athletic supporter.


L e o n a r d , a clinical psychologist in Newark,


said


that it would be wrong to perceive the advice of Rowing as being responsible


for


Adams’ self-destructive actions. “Anyone with a stitch of common sense understands


that’s a figure of speech,


that you can’t actually live every day like there’s no tomorrow,” said Leonard. “If you did you wouldn’t have much of a life leſt when you woke up the next morning.” “We all have a vision of how we’d live


our final day, when there would be no consequences to our actions,” Leonard continued. “For example, if it were my last day on Earth, I’d probably spend it


sunning myself in Aruba, drinking


margaritas out of the bloody skull of that bastard that ran off with my wife. But such temporary thinking is completely impractical in a civilized world, lucky for him.”


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