How Scurvy Ate Half My Brain: And I lived to tell about it
June 27th, 2007by Steve Dupont
BIRMINGHAM, AL -
The “lived to tell about it” part is kind of obvious, I guess. Just so you know it’s not being told, dare I say, from …
BEYOND THE GRAVE!
Not that Howling – oh, nevermind. Just forget it.
I say that a lot:
“Just forget it.”
“Nevermind.”
“It doesn’t make any difference.”
This is often a red herring!
Actually, it’s not. I just like to say “red herring.”
I said red HERRING, you fools! Not goddamned Red Buttons!
Red Skelton, whatever, it doesn’t matter.
Red buttons, yeah, nice going. I said it doesn’t fucking matter …
Oh Jesus Christ, there I go again.
I need my head examined. I wonder if insurance will cover that. Depends on the doctor’s opinion I suppose. And the real question is whether or not the insurance people would raise questions about it.
Not if they knew me, certainly.
In all likelihood they’d say, “By all means! Examine this man’s head immediately!”
See, then I would get an MRI and it would reveal only half a brain. The other side just blackness, like this:
A total void. Not gray matter or any other kind of matter, for that matter.
Antimatter?
Who knows. Could very well be. But was I BORN THAT WAY? Nope.
Nope, huh-uh.
Which means, sometime over the past 33 years, half my brain disappeared.
Half my brain, go somewhere! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
And yet, we all know matter cannot be destroyed – and that brains are, in fact, quite often eaten. Not only by humans and baboons, but by more nebulous entities that lurk around almost every corner and also in crevices and whatnot. The chiefmost amongst them of course being:
As if I need to tell you that. The point is, I want to assemble a book of these Scurvy Survival Stories and cleverly call it: Scurvy Survivor Stories.
Perhaps with a catchy subtitle (much catchier than the one above).
What I’m saying is that I don’t want to write the whole book myself. I just want to write one or two stories. The one about having half my brain eaten by Scurvy and maybe one about Scurvy beating me down with a crowbar or something.
So whether you’re on the roster of professional blogzine journalists here at TNB (I’m talking to you, in particular, Mr. Boose) or just an ordinary (extraordinary) person with a (made up) Scurvy survivor story to tell, I’d like to hear it.
Or rather, I should say: “The Editorial Staff at Skull & Bones Publishing” would like to hear it. I cannot vouch for their impartiality or even their courtesy, and I know for a fact you will not be paid a red cent.
Was there a Red Cent? In addition to a Red Buttons and a Red Skelton?
Nope. Not on IMDB, anyway. (That’s a relief, for some reason.)
Needless to say, a book of this nature is tailor made for the holiday gift giving season. And while you won’t be paid (all proceeds going to Scurvy Prevention and Awareness Campaigns), you’ll be able to promote yourself like we do here at TNB. A mention of your website or whatever. And rest assured, I won’t be paid either.
The perfect gift for the holidays!
That and a boar’s head. Obviously, I mean …
Man, you gotta love you a good boar’s head, man.
(This is an inside joke between me and, well, basically, myself.)
(Trust me, it’s funny.)
STEVE DUPONT is the author of Therein Lies the Probem , a novel. His official Internet headquarters is at SteveDupont.com.
This is a difficult assignment. I going to try to write how I survived scurvy.
My friends and I are starting The Society for the Victims of Life. You have to be able to turn anything into a complaint.
you are absurd in the best possible way. i feel i should refer you to a good therapist just so you can scare him.
I got scurvy from mainlining speedballs with my pirate friend Joe. I didn’t know Joe had scurvy.
Me “Why the hell didn’t you tell me you had scurvy?”
Joe “Arr I didn’t know itbe a problem matey.”
Me “Of course it’s a problem you asshole.”
Joe “Arr You’re nuthin like Brandi. She shares everything with me, even the sea.”
Me “What the fuck am I going to do?”
Joe “Here try some of these Florida oranges. They says it cures the scurvy.”
Me “you better fucking hope so.”
So I start eating oranges. Drinking orange juice. Pissing orange juice. I’m sick to death of oranges, but it’s working far as I can tell. My teeth are hanging in there. My eyes are bright. My skin is turning orange and so is my hair. Pretty, orange skin and orange hair. People look at me like I a circus freak.
Another wonderful side effect to oranges is diarrhea. Too much Vitamin C.
How the hell am I going to go to work like this?
I walk into the office and the receptionist Steff does a double take. She says, “Oh my God what happened to you?” I froze. Should I tell her I have scurvy and I have to eat millions of oranges or do I tell her it’s personal or do I say I gotta go? So I’m standing there like bozo trying to decide what to do. I mumble and go to my desk.
Eyes on the back of my head. All 24 eyes of our 12 employees, minus me of course, are behind me staring. I ignored them for a few seconds. Then I turned around.
Group “gasp”
I say “Look I have this pirate friend and he took me sailing so to speak and well I caught scurvy from his boat. He told me I had to eat a lot of oranges.”
They just stood there astonished.
Steff said “I survived scurvy but I just got a shot from the doctor.”
Everyone else “Yeah, me too – uh huh that’s what I did – yeah you can get one at the scurvy clinic on Broadway for $15 – really? my doctor charged me $75 – no way.”
They scurried away to their desks and I sat there in all my orange glory cursing Joe.
Next day I went to the scurvy clinic. The staff laughed their asses off at my orangeness. They couldn’t believe I fell for it.
It took another week for my normal color to return. So that’s it. I survived scurvy like all you other bastards that lied about it.
How can any of my comments stack up to Tammy’s ? Jesus Tammy, how about a “Victims of Being Overshadowed by Tammy’s Great Comments” group??
Steve, your posts make me feel slightly schizophrenic. Which is to say I’m dizzy and I like it.
I piss in the milk of scurvy.
sorry, took a risk. I hope you did like it though.
Nice, Tammy. Your risk-taking behavior is much appreciated (although you might want to try getting out more). Good effort for a blog posting — if you feel like “fleshing it out” a bit more, I’d love to see it.
With that said, I have every intention of publishing an actual book called Scurvy Survivor Stories, and would like any and all submissions.
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