Saturday night, Stanford junior Jack Mehogg was reportedly distraught after being officially rejected from every single summer internship, grant, and job for which he applied. This development was the last element in a tragic sequence of events, one which started with birth and concluded the moment he opened that final, fateful email regretfully informing him of his complete and utter lack of marketable skills and wishing him luck on his job search. “It’s no big deal,” Mehogg reportedly told his friends soon after the incident. “I might just go home for the summer, work at a restaurant or something. Or maybe I’ll just end up dying from this, a slow and painful death due to my life spiraling into meaningless chaos and despair, traceable back to this one moment. Time will tell.”

Mehogg recounts opening that final rejection and feeling the waves of “sweet, sensuous despair” roll over him. “It was almost as bad as when I found out that the male orgasm is a myth,” he said. “As soon as I saw the words ‘we regret to inform you,’ the sky suddenly darkened and the worms began to sing like little violins.”

The computer science student, however, is trying to look on the bright side of things. “At least now I know that I am an utterly worthless human being, incapable of ever contributing to the world or succeeding in some meaningful capacity. I’m just glad I found out sooner rather than later.”

Beyond failing to secure a coveted spot at tech companies such as Facebook, Apple, or Best Buy, Mehogg was also not granted any money by the Stanford Undergraduate Advising and Research Department. “I applied for funding to compose a symphony of Mongolian throat music to express how my sexuality was influenced by sado-capitalist structure of the liberal international order,” he said, “but apparently Stanford just doesn’t care about art.”

Mehogg has also alleged that perhaps the cards are simply stacked against him. “Not to be dramatic,” he said, “but I think the UAR might be full of Nazis. 23 and Me said I was 4.27% Sephardic Jewish. It all adds up.” When asked to elaborate, he explained, “We know that these genome companies are selling genetic information. But the question is to whom? And I know now. It’s the UAR. And it’s what’s stopping me from getting that sweet, sweet stipend.”

His only option now, according to Mehogg and Mehogg alone, is to return home with his tail between his legs. “Or I might just die from the embarrassment and shame I have brought upon myself. I still don’t know what’s going to happen.” At press time, Mehogg was opening a message regarding his application for the role of bus boy at his hometown pizza joint, Yickity Yack Pizza Shack. “Unfortunately,” the email began, “we had a huge number of applicants this year and we cannot offer you a position.”



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