Hey, Wack Kerouac!
Whenever you're ready with that great American novel, could ya please go ahead & grace us with it? That'd be super neat.
Oh, right, too easy, mate. You should have just said so!
Honestly, at this point, we'll settle for something in the slowly-creeping gentrified vicinity of mediocrity’s neighborhood.
You never miss a chance to flaunt your home ownership, do you? For the last time, you bought her a house with your Bitcoin blood money.
Meanwhile, I traded in my expired Red Robin gift cards at a garage sale for some Real Estate B-Sides on vinyl. She’s got them displayed in the foyer. We are not the same.
Alright, that was clearly the saddest & hopefully worst decision of your life. What was the second-worst?
I would say convincing myself I could write a novel.
That I could muster the courage, insanity, discipline, the force of will, vision, & frankly, the not-so-insignificant amount of luck requisite to affix a piece of my soul onto sheaves of prose & share it with the world.
Here y’all go, open Angie's List, & eviscerate my fucking body. Do me a solid & bury me in the ole septic tank when y'all are finished. I’ll just pull some bits of brilliance out of my ass & craft a coherent narrative with them.
I mean, your dad has called you BS for two decades now. You’ve practically been bullshitting since birth.
What exactly is the problem here?
The problem is that my creative process is fueled by the bootlegged A-Team of undiagnosed mercury poisoning, opium binges, & restless leg syndrome.
What the actual fuck is restless leg syndrome?
It’s a real thing, Doobie Howser.
What do you mean it’s a real thing? Everyone’s legs are restless. That’s why we have them...to move. By nature, they are restless.
Even amputees have restless leg syndrome.
Is that why their stumps itch? This is what a quarter-million dollars of med school loans teaches you? Bit of a racket, I'd say.
Nah, their stumps itch because the bone-saw scratched his balls before he saw fit to staunch their battle wounds. He said, "Hold my beer," & then graciously offered a money-back guarantee if they didn’t get gangrene.
You know, I’m really disappointed the whole necrotic & discolored limb aesthetic never took off.
Instead, we made syphilis fashionable.
I sincerely hope gangrene fired their copywriters after that disastrous ad campaign.
Personally, I don’t understand why “Take a load off your feet with Gangrene, WebMD’s thirty-seventh most-recommended disorder for hypochondriacs," wasn’t more popular.
That's because they discovered it was impossible to compete with some tiny, bloodsucking motherfuckers.
Look, pal...I can give you the gangrene now. We'll cauterize your wounds with some rusty pokers. You'll collect some sweet tetanus in the process for free. Or...I give you leeches & mercury when you’re on bed rest.
What’s it gonna be?
To be perfectly honest, I’m gonna give you the leeches anyway. My cousin is a big leech guy. Hell, we’re a leech family.
Leeches on society, to be sure.
Pillars of society, thank you very much.
I’ll be damned if they don’t cure your impurities or whatever voodoo witch nonsense we peddle that's masquerading as eminently qualified medical treatment.
Don’t mind me. Just gonna put on this dope-ass bird mask while y’all goons catch the goddamn plague.
How would a mask help at all?
Is this amateur hour?
Everyone knows you put the bird-mask on, & the rats are like, 'Ah shit, man. Come on. Give us a square go. You pinky-promised we could give you fleas like every other ugly peasant bastard on this god-forsaken continent. But this mask completely changes things.'
Do you have any earthly idea why?
Enlighten me.
Because they respect social hierarchy vis-à-vis the predator-prey relationship.
I don't know why we wasted the entirety of middle school science watching "Planet Earth" since y'all skeevy grummits were clearly too busy playing the circle game, tugging girls' ponytails, & flipping your ill-timed boners up into your waistbands to pay the least bit attention.
I'm pretty sure that just gave me erection PTSD. Do you think my doctor will write me a prescription for medical marijuana to cover that?
Sorry, friendo. You really should know better by now. It's leeches all the way down. But you know what?
I’ll put in a good word for you with the aristocracy. We’ll turn you into a little Renaissance sex symbol. Trust me, it’s gonna be tres chic. You’re gonna slay at masked balls. How do you like the sound of that, eh me mucker?
Cons - You're going to get mumps & dysentery & measles & smallpox & die. Pros - We didn’t vaccinate you, so at least you’re not autistic.
Regardless, you are going to die a virgin.
That’s some absolutely shit karma, bud. What the fuck did you do in your past life? Mary, mother of Christ, man, this is 1350 AD! What kind of absolutely depraved shit did you get up to?
I’m not sure. Maybe I ding-dong ditched the lepers or something equally deviant & mischievous?
Almost certainly. That's the only thing that makes sense. Right, including the morality fee for the aforementioned emotionally abused leper colony, that’ll be €30,000 for the house visit. Ain’t capitalism grand?
Thirty thousand? That's highway fucking robbery.
I’m sorry, do you think leeches grow on trees? I've got some serious overhead to cover here. It ain't cheap keeping your blood free of those spooky demons.
Demons? Excuse me, I've got ghosts haunting my blood?
The layman's term is "lingering with intent." & let me tell you something, they’re frickin pissed. Unfortunately, the exorcism is gonna cost you an extra €15,000 or so.
Do you want to write a check or have you & your flea-ridden descendants pay in potato crops for the next millennia & a half?
Good thinking! I’ll be around next month to pick up the fish 'n' chips platter. I also have Square if that works for you. I'm a people pleaser. What can I say?
How am I supposed to afford this? You've bankrupted me!
Start a GoFundMe, Sobbin Hood. I'm off to my next appointment to burn a particularly sassy & empowered witch at the stake who wouldn't let me take off her pinafore after we did the do-si-do at summer harvest.
How was her refusal to indulge your lechery a crime?
Because it forced me to re-evaluate my choices in life, & to tell you the truth, I didn't much like what I found when gazing inwards.
Probably because all you found were the leeches.
Show some respect to the marvels of modern medicine! They make perfect sense if you don't think about it. Anywho, remember to say your prayers to Xenu & Ayn Rand & Reaganomics & the Deli Llama.
...The Deli Llama?
God bless his pastrami sandwiches.
Aren't you supposed to be vegan?
Man’s gotta eat, ya know?  

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