It seems like just yesterday when Billy Mays was still alive and well, selling things for only $19.95 plus shipping and handling. That guy could sell me a nickel for twenty bucks, I bet. I wish I could sell anything like he could. It would definitely help now. I would be able to get extensions on the due dates of every single one of my projects and papers, sell the stuff in my junk drawer for obscene amounts of money, and convince boys to buy me nice things. Maybe I’d even be able to talk the school into lowering my tuition. Maybe.

I don’t know why I’ve been thinking about Billy so much, lately. Maybe it’s just because I miss him. I’ve always wanted a clock that had his voice for the alarm. It would have said something like, “Hi, Billy Mays here for the morning! Now get your ass up and do something productive!” And you know what? I would have. I. Would. Have.

Even though he’s gone, I will remember the good times. All of the countless hours of infomercials in which Billy projected his voice while I watched in awe of how many uses OxiClean had (not only did it make my white clothes whiter, but it also made my bright clothes brighter). Had my jaw hit the ground because of how much liquid ZoorbEEZ (you know, the amazingly absorbent cloths that ShamWow ripped off) could clean up and hold. Was amazed by how many things could be easily attached with Mighty Mendit (use it to glue paper, fabric, or bedazzle your phone!). It all seemed just too good to be true.

Mighty Putty didn’t work as great as you said it would, but I’ll give you a pass on that one, Billy. I’m not one to hold grudges, and I’m sure as hell not going to start now. Sure, in the infomercial it showed you using that powerfully strong putty to tow a semi. A semi. It looked badass, but if I were to try that, my putty would probably just crumble. I used to think that it was because the product wasn’t as good as you promised it to be, but I was wrong. The real reason why it wouldn’t hold together for me is because I’m not Billy freaking Mays. He may have always been shouting (I’m sorry, I mean projecting), and he might have been a bit of a crackhead (literally), but dammit. He was my baby.