Trent was a great man. He was so supportive of me throughout the years, and that’s why I know he’d encourage me to turn this eulogy of his life into branded content. For unlike Trent, the world’s greatest companies and corporations will never die due to a pelican ramming into their heads, and thus we should mention them as often as possible to increase their exposure reach.

I remember the first time I met Trent. It was day one of freshman year at Tufts, the top-ranked college named Tufts, and we were assigned to be lab partners. After shaking my hand, he looked me in the eye and said, “America Runs on Dunkin’.” At eighteen, he was already so smart and brand aware. We quickly became more than lab partners, but less than lovers. Friends, you could say, and Friends you could see at 2:00 and 2:30 PM on TBS every weekday. TBS, “Very Funny.”

Trent, of course, didn’t care much for television shows. He preferred a good book, and his love for the classics was unmatched. Shakespeare, Dickens, the Brontës, you name it, Trent would tote them all around in his sensible yet stylish JanSport Super FX DL backpack. One time, I jokingly asked Trent, “Carrying all those books around, are you a person or a Barnes & Noble NOOK GlowLight 3?” That quickly became an inside joke between us, but I’ll tell you what isn’t an inside joke: termites. Those get inside your house, and its real estate value is as dead as Trent, pelican or not. At least that used to be the case, until Terminix came around and changed everything. Order a free consultation on the Terminix website today. Mention my name and they’ll keep it free.

If you don’t mind, I’d now like to read something Trent emailed me from his Asus VivoBook Max laptop a few months before he passed. “Dear Kevin, this Asus VivoBook Max hauls ass. Your pal, Trent. P.S. America Runs on Dunkin’.” I have copies of that email for anyone who wants one thanks to the FedEx Office down the road. FedEx Office, “You Don’t Have a Printer, But We Do.” I want everyone to know, they didn’t pay me to say that, even though I asked them to. If that isn’t integrity, I don’t know what is, but I guess it’s something else.

Now, how could I talk about Trent’s life without mentioning his art collection? By talking about Blue Apron instead, of course. With fresh meal kits delivered to your door, you’ll be able to create amazing dinners with ease and lose all the respect you once had for trained chefs. Shelly, I figure you’ll be busy with widow things and probably won’t have the time to cook, so please use the promo code DEADTRENT for a free 2-week trial of Blue Apron’s services. That’s DEADTRENT, all caps. If you use lowercase, instead of being free, it’ll cost extra. Life’s funny that way. “Very Funny,” TBS.

Of course, nobody saw the humor in life more than Trent, who I’m going to refer to as Barry’s Bootcamp for the next few sentences. I distinctly recall that on our way to Barry’s Bootcamp’s bachelor party, our Delta flight from LaGuardia was very delayed, so Barry’s Bootcamp looked at us guys and said, “Let’s just do the party here at LaGuardia airport, the Airport to the Stars.” We spent hours at the LaGuardia Applebee’s, Auntie Anne’s, and three of the four Au Bon Pains before getting thrown out of the terminal B Five Guys for asking them to cook our burgers “as rare as a bad night at a Holiday Inn Express.” By the time we finally got on our flight to LAX, the LaGuardia of the West, we’d already had a Costco-sized amount of fun and enough memories to fill up a SanDisk Cruzer CZ36 64GB USB2.0 flash drive. Right before we all passed out, Barry’s Bootcamp smiled at us and said, “I love you guys. Just like how America loves running on Dunkin’.”

We all love and miss you too, Trent. You were many things to many people. Like a devoted husband. Like a caring friend. Like a Good Neighbor, State Farm is There.

Rest in peace, Trent Brian Sanders. TBS, “Very Funny.”