/ 12 / What doesn’t kill you almost kills you—Hello Devilfish! Today class, we’re gonna deconstruct the cancer narrative—it’s gnarly chemo fun! Jeez, I hate these sappy fables where Betty finds a breast lump and becomes—a better person! Hah—what she actually morphs into is a chop-shop freak—with a narrative woven from very wooly clichés. Hope it keeps her toasty—who’s gonna date some hag with one fun bag? These god-awful cancer books frost my balls—all these slipshod tomes about battling for your teensy life—with an uplifting message! Listen, fighting the Big C is like wrestling a freight train—I approached the diesel beast like a friend, not an enemy. Maybe it had something to teach me—a lesson in love and laughter? Or maybe how to rip a skull into screaming paste. Hello Stage 4! All your squamous are ours. Who cares about your spiritual journey—how enlightened was that bacon you scarfed at breakfast? Maybe Mr. Pig thought that slaughterhouse hook was gonna lift him to heaven too.
