Sometime last week my left eye began twitching involuntarily. It spasms as if a pocket of air is trying to escape. It doesn’t hurt, but is odd to have an eyelid sputtering like a hummingbird.
Somebody told me eye spasms are symptomatic of Iron deficiency, which is likely as my recent diet consists of Cap’n Crunch, Slurpees, Coffee and Irish whiskey. However, from what I’ve read, there is no evidence to link eye twitches to Iron deficiency. Stranger still, many medical experts are at a loss to explain how eye twitches are caused at all. Could it be a voodoo hex? Or aliens beaming their Tivo selections into my brain? The dead attempting communication from the other side?
PS: Please don’t tell me that brain worms are eating their way to the outside world through my peepers. I’d rather have them go through the nasal cavity.
I’m not sure how to say this…but I think we need to take a look at our relationship. Valentine’s Day is probably not the best time to sort out our issues but after last night I don’t think I can go on. My family doctor insisted on it actually.
Did you know a bite from a human is extremely dirty? People’s mouths are filled with germs. A bite from a person is likely to become infected if not treated right away. I’ve needed to learn these sorts of things after I started dating you.
It’s weird, but I seem to find large portions of my flesh missing from my body when I wake up in the morning after we’ve gone out drinking. It hurts to take off and put on clothes when there is open wounds on your arms and chest.
Another thing: I used feel flattered at your continuous mention of my intellect. You’d always be talking about my “brains…brains” while you gnawed on my neck. I’m not that smart. But I’m smart enough to know when to end it.
We had some good times,
Fergis T. McGillcuddy
PS: My buddy Johan really digged your style. Do you want me to give him your number?
I was headed to the fridge for a little late night snack when I walked past my window and saw you relieving yourself on my vehicle last night. You and you’re friends thought it was pretty funny.
Let me be the first to tell you that my turn-of-the-century Pontiac Grand Prix has a bad ass voodoo hex on it. Soon all your luck will turn for the worst. Your girlfriend will breakup with you, dumping your ass for somebody that doesn’t piss on cars, making you homeless in the process. You’ll start taking pills and drinking too much. You’ll lose your job and all your friends. You’ll be all alone in a very big and very terrifying world. You’ll eventually stab yourself in the eye with a shard of a bottle of Baby Duck and bleed to death underneath a dumpster. But not before you shrink to the size of a chronically ill cancer patient. Other homeless people and passing college kids will relieve themselves on you like you relieved yourself on my automobile.
You can look forward to a brief existence full of disappointment, shame and anguish.
Fergis T. McGillicuddy
PS: It was actually me that peed on the Grand Prix…I’m really sorry. Please don’t curse me.
Because there’s hundreds of these in my mailbox, here are some things about me (culled from the best of the worst forwards):
1. What’s your favourite thing to do?: Curse those that send lame e-mail forwards with voodoo hexes. It’s amazing how much blood pours from the head of a virgin goat.
2. Is there something purple within five feet of you?: Only the bruised face of somebody I know who sent me an e-mail forward.
3. Current Disappointments?: I haven’t bludgeoned anyone who’s forwarded a vain, self-effacing question list today. However, I just got up.
4. What came first, the chicken or the egg?: A disgusting half-egg/half-chicken creature gnawing on the skull of fools that waste their time with circular logic problems.
5.What do you want people to remember about you when you die?: That I gave their e-mail addresses to shady internet ponzi schemes because they felt they needed to share more of themselves with me. Who’s sharing now? A militant Nigerian sharing your banking information with his associates in various terrorist organizations. NSA will be taking you to your new summer camp in Guantanamo Bay shortly after reading this sentence for supporting the War on Freedom. Enjoy.
Fergis T. McGillicuddy