Graphic by Emily Chavez
We all had dreams of attending the best universities America has to offer, but, somehow, we ended up at Tufts instead. While many of you eggheads wanted to attend Ivy League colleges, some of us had bigger dreams. Brigham Young University was mine. However, my SAT scores were too high. A tragedy. Even though I yearned for the purple mountains of Provo, Utah, I was dropped into the snowy doldrums of Somerville, Massachusetts. Instead of attending an institution founded upon ideals of sexual purity and the teachings of Joseph Smith, I now found myself amongst godless heathens and kooky liberals (redundant, I know).
Tufts’s persistent paganism left me in a pinch romantically. Soaking was great and all, but I wanted the real thing. I needed to get at least two women committed to marriage with me by the spring of my senior year. Ring by spring, as they say…
But I was more successful than the Latter-Day Saints could ever have dreamed. I now have eleven wives, including two sets of twins. How did I do it? Well, strap in, grab a glass of uncaffeinated, non-alcoholic whole milk, and hear my tale.
All Jumbos enter university horny, ready to abandon their sacred chastity and sleep with anyone that comes their way. But men – especially skinny, thin-waisted, Clairo-loving Tufts boys – despise commitment. These deviants want to sleep with all the male-prefering bisexual women that they can. They know that, after college, the cuteness of a liberal arts degree and making no money wears off. As a result, Tufts men hop from woman to woman like a trick-or-treater on the sacrilegious holiday of Halloween. They sexistly try to “conquer” women, leaving only destruction and broken hearts in their wake. Tufts men have no regard for how their reckless swinging objectifies women. These pagans provide no genuine commitment or emotional validation, only false promises. This is where I come in.
When a Mormon bequeaths a promise ring unto a woman, it symbolizes an eternal bond. If I give one of my female classmates a ring, it is an oath that we will be together forever. I will always be there for these women even during the bad times, like how Brigham Young was there for the LDS community after Joseph Smith’s murder. And once you add the cherry of Twilight (peak Mormon literature) on top of this commitment sundae, the women are hooked. This is why I always urge men to convert to Mormonism. The first wife is always the hardest, of course, but, after a few wives are gained, they flock to you like moths to a flame.
I can already see your horrified, liberal face. How does my gaggle of blonde, blue-eyed bombshells get along, you ask?
Well, after four failed situationships and five unfulfilling frat basement hookups, these women eventually realize the sweet guy in the white button-down and black tie was what they needed all along. All people, regardless of their sexuality, gender, or creed, desire to be loved. They want stability and emotional intelligence in a romantic companion. So, women of Tufts University, if these men cheat on you anyway, why not give Mormonism a chance? Perhaps, you can get behind the idea that Jesus Christ visited the Americas. I mean, if The Sink can call what they make coffee, then Jesus could resurrect again and come to Utah.
Plus, I am a progressive Mormon. I allow my wives to hook up with each other and fulfill all their Tufts bisexual needs. My spouses lead impressive lives outside of the home and have fruitful careers, in addition to the seven children each one of them will bear. All I ask is that they return to my Somerville apartment by night’s end. Sure, my room gets crowded, but it is all worth it to save these women from the sexist gaze of Tufts men.
