This week an alumnus dying of throat cancer decided it was finally time to stop smoking when he got a cigarette stuck in his sphincter. He was given only π years to live by his doctor who decided rational numbers are a terrible way to time. He has decided to leave his oddly coloured blood hound to the student body as a token of good will, mainly to scare away the geese.
His wife, a graduate student in Slavic Studies, had this to say, "I would approve if he didn't have to go out of his way to stop smoking. He seems to resist quitting for some reason, almost as if he was addicted or something, but that would be crazy."
When asked about the dog, this is what EDdie, one of our fantastic editors managed to comment, "THE PAIN!" I believe he was trying to emulate one of the most fantastic gymnasts of all time. Clearly, the dog who was his jaws wrapped around my leg will be an inspiration to us all. Can someone call an ambulance?