My friend David McInnis sent me this.
I think it's an excellent example of extraordinary writing.

This is an actual essay written by a college applicant to NYU:

IN ORDER FOR THE ADMISSIONS STAFF OF OUR COLLEGE TO GET TO KNOW YOU, THE APPLICANT, BETTER, WE ASK THAT YOU ANSWER THE FOLLOWING QUESTION:

ARE THERE ANY SIGNIFICANT EXPERIENCES YOU HAVE HAD, OR ACCOMPLISHMENTS YOU HAVE REALIZED, THAT HAVE HELPED TO DEFINE YOU AS A PERSON?

I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice.  I have been known to remodel train stations on my lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention.  I translate ethnic slurs for Cuban refugees, I write award-winning operas, I manage time efficiently.

Occasionally, I tread water for three days in a row.

I woo women with my sensuous and godlike trombone playing, I can pilot bicycles up severe inclines with unflagging speed, and I cook Thirty-Minute Brownies in twenty minutes.  I am an expert in stucco, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in Peru.

Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon Basin from a horde of ferocious army ants.  I play bluegrass cello, I was scouted by the Mets, I am the subject of numerous documentaries.  When I'm bored, I build large suspension bridges in my yard.  I enjoy urban hang gliding.  On Wednesdays, after school, I repair electrical appliances free of charge.

I am an abstract artist, a concrete analyst, and a ruthless bookie.  Critics worldwide swoon over my original line of corduroy evening wear.  I don't perspire.  I am a private citizen, yet I receive fan mail.  I have been caller number nine and have won weekend passes.  Last summer I toured New Jersey with a traveling centrifugal-force demonstration.  I bat 400.

My deft floral arrangements have earned me fame in international botany circles.  Children trust me.

I can hurl tennis rackets at small moving objects with deadly accuracy.  I once read Paradise Lost, Moby Dick, and David Copperfield in one day and still had time to refurbish an entire dining room that evening.  I know the exact location of every food item in the supermarket.  I have performed several covert operations with the CIA.  I sleep once a week: when I do sleep, I sleep in a chair.  While on vacation in Canada, I successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery.  The laws of physics do not apply to me.

I balance, I weave, I dodge, I frolic, and my bills are all paid.  On weekends, to let off steam, I participate in full-contact origami.  Years ago I discovered the meaning of life but forgot to write it down.  I have made extraordinary four course meals using only a mouli and a toaster oven.

I breed prizewinning clams.  I have won bullfights in San Juan, cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka, and spelling bees at the Kremlin.

I have played Hamlet, I have performed open-heart surgery, and I have spoken with Elvis.

But I have not yet gone to college.

(The author was accepted to NYU.)

David also showed me a photo of two of his sons.

One of them is blowing bubbles as his little brother watches. The photo was snapped just as a large bubble floated between the camera and the boy. Take a look.