Earlier today, I was diagnosed with no less than ten deadly diseases. They shot me up with so much morphine that I believed all of the diseases were worth it...
The doctor broke the news in the white, white emergency room where I went in after starting to bleed from my hair follicles (and other less embarrassing places).
The youngish, earnest, bloody looking dude told me, "You should already be dead. With all of these ten deadly diseases, only a superhuman constitution could live this far..."
"Yes, yes..." I told him, "Tell me something I don't know?'
"He could die right now?" Some intern added.
Then a nurse was like, "No.... he could die....right.........now!"
"Me next," says the doctor.
I had a pretty good idea that they were betting on when I was going to die, and they confirmed as much later when... well, I'm getting ahead of myself.
This business started when I awoke this morning to a dense rain of toads falling from my bedroom ceiling. Some were urinating. M./ of course blamed me for this somehow... And these were not the toads you can get all stoned from, and god don't I know it... I licked them all and I can gaurantee you they enjoyed the experience a hell of a lot more than me -- horny bastards spewed on my toungue...
I tried to get up out of bed and noticed these welts all over me, and that when I tried to lift myself up on my elbows, they both broke into compound fractors that spewed blood across the white walls of me bedroom. I Sscreamed and screamed for help, and finally, during a a commercial break in M.'s favorite local news show, she came into the bedroom and asked me in a snide voice, "Are you trying to get out of walking the dog?" She always suspects me of subterfuge like this, so why should this time be any different, I suppose?
Then she kind of saw all the blood around my arms and got a concerned look and said, "You broke something of mine. Someting glass. Don't lie now, what was it?"
I passed out at that point, or she beat me unconscious, depending who you believe; my sanity requires that I go with passing out, though Mary Ann answer's on the topic have all been somewhat non- commital.
Then this pot belly pig floated in through the window of the hospital room, wearing a shiny velvet red vest, smiling broadly as he drifted up to the ceiling fan, reached out his rhoof, took ahold and alowwed himself to be spun around the room a few times and then let loose and shot back out into the sunny day from which he had come. As he receeded off into a robin egg sky filled with thin, wind whisked whisps of white, I distinctly saw the pig give us all what could only be described as a 'merry wink.'
That Night, I told myself, I am going to get myself a pot belly pig, and maybe never even eat the damn thing... and maybe even teach it to kill?
You can guess the rest, of course...
I AM NOW CURED OF ALL TEN DEADLY DISEASES THAT WERE TO KILL ME BEFORE THE NIGHT IS OUT...
Yes, My miraculous recovery will obviously be written up in many a medical journal.
BE SELFISH TO KEEP THIS KIND OF HEALING POWER TO MYSELF. YOU SEE, I HAVE DISCOVERED THAT I LIVE IN A HOLY ENVIRONMENT WHERE ALL ARTIFACTS ARE INFUSED WITH WHAT I CALL CRYSTAL JIZZ.
CRYSTAL JIZZ IS EVEN MORE POWERFUL THAN REGULAR CRYSTAL, BECAUSE IT CAN GROW INTO SUPER CRYSTAL WITH TEN MILLION TRILLION TIMES THE POWER OF OTHER CRYSTALS WHEN GESTATATED WITH THE OVUMS OF WOMAN FROM VENUS. I have been able to harnass these powerful, cosmic, jerry garcia energy flows of crystal jizz into a nice pendent of a pig that you just have to wear around your neck for like a week to learn more than Buddha ever dreamt of under his boddi. tree.
Trust me on this, alright? SEND FOR YOU CRYSTAL JIZZ before you die from one of the ten deadly diseases we are guaranteed to cure you of.
(list of actual diseases cured comes free with every 68. dollar order)THOU SHALT NOT STEAL THE WRITINGS OF JOHN SCOTT RIDGWAY... YOU CAN EASILY GET PERMISSION FOR A NON COMMERCIAL REPRINT BY CONTACTING MY EMAIL.