Yesterday’s mention of recurring contributors to this blog led me to check in on our old friend, Aloysius P. Hazzencockle, who, for a while last year, really seemed to form a warm and lasting relationship with a dying man who had contacted him via email in a his search for a worthy heir to his fortune (follow the spiritually uplifting correspondence here:
As luck would have it, yet another email from yet another dying individual looking for a worthy heir found its way into Aloysius’s inbox. He was quick to respond to Mrs. Rose Joshua:
Thank you for your stirring email. It both touched my heart and kind of grossed me out in its detailed account of your illness. Like you, I am also in dire straits. Whereas you lost your husband to tragedy and have since been ostracized by every friend and family member you ever knew, I have seen a 12% decline in worldwide orders for the adorable 100% real cat fur stuffed cat toys produced by Hazzecockle Enterprises. Whereas you are struggling with cancer and the paralytic effects of a stroke, I have had to put down a third of my staff of equally adorable child workers. Whereas you are at death’s door, my Tivo fucked up and didn’t record the final ten minutes of last Sunday’s Amazing Race. (If you know who got eliminated, don’t tell me. I think I still might be able to download the episode online.).
All this to say that, in me, you have found a partner in misery, one who can empathize with your many hardships AND find a way to spend that 1.2 million dollars you are offering.
You wrote: “According to the doctor, my medical report quotes a very short life sperm due to my health status presently.”
Sad to hear. In my case, I suffer from what is known as “sperm ennui”, a condition in which the sperm suffer not so much low concentrations or defects but a general disinterest in fertilization, preferring instead to just leisurely swim about before knocking back a couple of cocktails and turning in for the night.
You wrote: “May be I may still have another 3-4 weeks to live, that I do not know but God can say.”
Well, you should ask him. I’ve learned from experience that God can be surprisingly forthcoming about future events like deaths, disasters, and lotto numbers. Just the other week, for instance, he actually revealed that I’d be the recipient of a 1.2 million dollar windfall over crantini’s and finger sandwiches. Incidentally, I ended up picking up the tab even though it was his turn to pay so be wary of his “I brought the wrong wallet” excuse.
You wrote: “I want an individual that will use this fund for the less privilege ones like; orphanages, widows, also help our old ones who is unable to cater for their needs.”
I can assure you that all will feel the trickle-down effects of my lavish and irresponsible spending habits be they orphaned butlers, widowed masseuses, or elderly baccarat dealers. As recently as this afternoon, I generously tipped my gimpy half-wit groundskeeper for exceptional service. Oh, and the loss of three and a half fingers to one of the crocodiles that lurk in my castle moat.
You wrote: “I know we have not meet before but I want you to consider this mission as DIVINE MISSION!!!”
I was thinking more along the lines of FABULOUS!!! or SENSATIONAL! but, yes, DIVINE!!! works too.
Please get back to me at your earliest convenience so that we can get the ball rolling.
Aloysius P. Hazzencockle
President and CEO