The prison warden says they are hoping to attract singles who are batshit insane and bored with the shopping mall scene. Daters need to be between the ages of 12-17 and 80-89.

“We wanted to attract the younger and elderly age groups to death row - these are groups that are harder to reach,” he explains.

“We’re creating fake addresses, phone numbers and emails that they never have to use again after that first initial collect call, so their privacy is assured. In fact, it’s better that they just conceal their identity by using a morphsuit or full-on mime costume.”

Consider 87-year-old single librarian Mildred Malawsky. “I think I’m a little more at peace with being single,” she says. “I was hoping to get married someday, but I’m kind of letting that go as I get older. Everyone seems to want younger chicks that are mute.”

She’s signed up for the death row event to try something new and exciting. And maybe, just maybe, play visiting area kiosk footise with the freshly divorced Richard Ramirez.

Participants are encouraged to bring clear photographs of any identifiable scars, a spare tooth, and a sharpened pencil.

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There’s nothing like the competitive edge of a skilled serial killer labor force in today’s global economy. Bloomberg said, “The Commonwealth’s 999,000 sidewalk trash bags and dumpsters are valuable resources that residents need to know about, whether they are wife beaters exploring new career options or the local meat factory looking to hire. Career Day provides us with a citywide venue to let people know about the resources available to them in their hunt for the perfect occupation, and the good work taking place in the alleyways between where we live and the schools our children attend.”

Examples of employer representatives who will be on hand to meet with potential employees are Bank of America and JP Morgan Chase.

The Career Day comes after the announcement of economic data that shows an increasing number of job vacancies in the South Bronx. Also, more employers are looking for serial killers with a Ph.D. or higher.

In addition to job fairs, accomplished Death Row Riker’s Island inmates will be hosting informational Q & A’s for applicants. Topics include how to select a newsworthy nickname that reminds fans of a Burger King sandwich, what employers need to know about your rigor mortis executive accomplishments resume section summary, and tips on writing off night vision goggle expenses on your taxes.

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You’ve probably seen these types of failed rough drafts before. I’ve written so many and used them for several housewarming holiday decorations in the past. It says “spring time” to me, so I think they would look nice on the sun-drenched dining room table.

Start by picking what you believe to be your best, funniest, and most brief farewell letter. Cut it into squares. The squares should measure at least 100,000 centimeters lengthwise, in case you need for your monthly cycle mess back up plan. Fold over, being careful not to get any ghastly paper cuts. Stapling together is a great time saving tip, truly making the most of those waste of human space precious facetime moments. Tell your friends these will work great anytime they want to set an easy, breezy feeling for those overly formal family gatherings.

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Beverly Hills Adjacent, CA-With breast augmentation procedures on the rise since the mid-1990s, forty-five-year-old ugly resident Joanna Bamburger decided it was the perfect time to improve her body image. “I realized I was forty-five and not even close to being married,” Joanna told reporters. “Living in the 90213, it had to be my C cup rack. Come on, even high school sophomores have Double Ds!”

When asked if her dating life has improved since the breast augmentation, Bamburger admitted that it has not. But, she feels hopeful after several migrant workers whistled at her from a passing pick up truck. “It was such a self-esteem boost,” Bamburger said. “I never thought exotic men would find me sexy. That is, until the new breasts!”

Additionally, Bamburger said that one drunken USC student urged her to flash. “I felt like the popular sorority girl I never was. My eyes filled with tears of joy.” Witnesses claimed the anonymous frat boy then screamed, “Butter face!”

Reporters were successful in tracking down Bamburger’s plastic surgeon. When asked his professional opinion on Bamburger’s procedure, Dr. Grossman said, “Ugly chicks getting boob jobs is an unfortunate trend sweeping the country. Surgical enhancement isn’t going to make a damn of a difference for these girls. The only thing more painful than looking at Ms. Bamburger is staring directly into the sun. I think they should just save their money, spare us all some agony, and go get decapitated!”

Concerned readers can send tax-deductible donations to Mr. Grossman’s nonprofit advocacy organization: “Plastic Surgeons Against Giving Ugly Girls Boob Jobs.”

*Before you send off your hate mail to me, keep in mind that this is humor and I’m a prematurely balding wiyatch, yo!

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(1)  Stop dating D-bags who write books about our awkward past personal history, dogging me out on national TV.

(2)  Stop dating wealthy D-bags who steal money from my purse to pay for our dates.

(3)  Stop dating D-bags who take an escort to red carpet events, miraculously forget to mention, then react with, “Oh, I thought you were down with that!” Thanks for the “tmi” overload TMZ…

(4)  Stop dating D-bags who announce way too proudly that they have “the herp” during a mid-day-“nooner”-not-so-delight.

(5)  Stop making acquaintances with D-bags who supposedly hate famous people ‘cuz “they all think they’re so special.” But, “would it be a bother to ask your ex-man-witch for an autograph?”

(6)  Stop making acquaintances with D-bags who accuse me of having dated famous dudes just ‘cuz they’re famous when they don’t even know the deeper meaning of D-list.

(7)  Stop being friends with female attention whore “D-hags” who act like a hangnail is a “holla” Code Red emergency, getting peeved at me for not promptly returning their 911 “Princess Petty Drama Diaries” premature late night texts.

(8)  Stop being friends with Harry “Squatter” D-bags that come for a weekend romp that turns into a six-month moocher stomp.

(9)  Stop associating with total D-bags who don’t realize that they’re total D-bags.

(10)  Finally realize I can’t please everyone–sometimes it’s okay to be a D-bag myself.

Conclusion: If I break all these resolutions come 2013, I’ll just blame it on my blown over brain tumor.