Dear Harvard,
Look, I always thought being famous was gonna be just like the movies. You know, the cameras, the ladies, the V.I.P clubs, the unlimited La Croix in my town car with tinted windows. That was the lifestyle I’ve dreamt of ever since I was a kid. But I should have known there was gonna be a catch when I rubbed that old, dusty ass teapot at my neighbor’s garage sale and a Genie with a snaggletooth gave me for a wish.
That afternoon, I asked for fame and glory, but instead I just became 'David Malan,' CS50 head. Big whoop. I teach a bunch of fuckin’ nerds. I’m not in any of the movies! Instead, I’m on YouTube next to the recommended videos for Khan Academy. I was supposed to sell out Madison Square Garden, but I can’t even sell out half of Sanders Theater.
To be honest, I know jackshit about computer science. Hell, probably the CS50 DJ knows more than me. I just make up random crap up when I’m on stage (I was a big improv guy in college) and somehow the students just buy it. I mean, hell, Yale bought it too.
Oh and also, I think my Genie, Wazaou, must have been drunk on the rum in his teapot, because I specifically remember asking him to give me a celebrity catch phrase when he makes me famous. Do you know what his drunk ass came up with? This is CS50. My catchphrase is a statement of fact. That is like if Sherlock Holmes catchphrase was, “Well look at me, I’m a detective.”
I mean, who am I even kidding? I should just leave, and run to L.A. to chase my dreams, and never look back, just like every cliché movie ever!Yeah, that’s it! I’ve put up with enough of my Genie’s shit. I’ll see you all on the big screen soon. Til’ then, catch me at 2x speed on EdX, bitches.