Cancer People
Several weeks ago my friend and I were at a bar at UVA, which I attend and he already graduated from. One of the sororities was selling plastic cups for $3 that we could fill with beer for $1. Their proceeds were going to breast cancer research. “We’ll buy two cups,” I said to the sorority girl, “but only because we can get cheap beer.”
“Great. Well, your money goes to a good cause.”
“Fuck that. I don’t like cancer people.”
My friend began laughing hysterically.
“You don’t like people with cancer?” she asked bewildered.
“No, all they do is bitch and moan and ask for research money. It’s pathetic.”
“Yeah but…it’s cancer! It’s not their fault they got it.”
“He’s just fucking with you,” my Canadian friend interrupted. “He actually beat cancer twice.”
The poor sorority girl was so confused. “Are you serious?”
“Ben beat the ever-living shit out of cancer one time. Then when he got it again we were all like, ‘What the hell is cancer thinking? I mean, that’s not even a fair fight.’”
“What does he know, he’s Canadian,” I said before walking away, leaving her to decide for herself.
When I got cancer the second time my mom’s friend gave me a diary. “You could write in it and then make it into a book someday.” I threw the diary in the trash. Strangely, over a year later I had an epiphany: I should write a book. At 2 AM I started typing. Now it has reached the hands of several editors at different publishing houses. They say I’m unknown and won’t publish me. This blog needs to change that.
The name of my book is I’ve Still Got Both My Nuts: A True Cancer Story. My goal is that someday John Doe will complain to his buddy about his day. John’s friend will listen and may even sympathize a little. Then he’ll say, “Yeah, but you’ve still got both your nuts, right?” With your help we can make this happen.
To my parents: I’m going to tell you the same thing I’ll tell you when the book comes out—don’t read it. Many parts will shame and disgust you. You may fall into deep depression at which point you’ll turn to cocaine. Then, you’ll want a bigger high and begin freebasing, then move on to crack rock. Before you know it you’re shooting speedballs. That said, I’m positive you’re going to constantly check this blog for updates and read all the entries very carefully. For the sake of our relationship I need to set one rule: you can’t ask me questions about any of my writing or make comments about anything. Ever. It’ll be better this way.
To everyone else: Start telling your friends. Spread the word. Forward the link to everyone you know. Talk about your testicles, or lack thereof. And most importantly, send me your thoughts. I welcome all questions, comments, compliments and criticism.
“Great. Well, your money goes to a good cause.”
“Fuck that. I don’t like cancer people.”
My friend began laughing hysterically.
“You don’t like people with cancer?” she asked bewildered.
“No, all they do is bitch and moan and ask for research money. It’s pathetic.”
“Yeah but…it’s cancer! It’s not their fault they got it.”
“He’s just fucking with you,” my Canadian friend interrupted. “He actually beat cancer twice.”
The poor sorority girl was so confused. “Are you serious?”
“Ben beat the ever-living shit out of cancer one time. Then when he got it again we were all like, ‘What the hell is cancer thinking? I mean, that’s not even a fair fight.’”
“What does he know, he’s Canadian,” I said before walking away, leaving her to decide for herself.
When I got cancer the second time my mom’s friend gave me a diary. “You could write in it and then make it into a book someday.” I threw the diary in the trash. Strangely, over a year later I had an epiphany: I should write a book. At 2 AM I started typing. Now it has reached the hands of several editors at different publishing houses. They say I’m unknown and won’t publish me. This blog needs to change that.
The name of my book is I’ve Still Got Both My Nuts: A True Cancer Story. My goal is that someday John Doe will complain to his buddy about his day. John’s friend will listen and may even sympathize a little. Then he’ll say, “Yeah, but you’ve still got both your nuts, right?” With your help we can make this happen.
To my parents: I’m going to tell you the same thing I’ll tell you when the book comes out—don’t read it. Many parts will shame and disgust you. You may fall into deep depression at which point you’ll turn to cocaine. Then, you’ll want a bigger high and begin freebasing, then move on to crack rock. Before you know it you’re shooting speedballs. That said, I’m positive you’re going to constantly check this blog for updates and read all the entries very carefully. For the sake of our relationship I need to set one rule: you can’t ask me questions about any of my writing or make comments about anything. Ever. It’ll be better this way.
To everyone else: Start telling your friends. Spread the word. Forward the link to everyone you know. Talk about your testicles, or lack thereof. And most importantly, send me your thoughts. I welcome all questions, comments, compliments and criticism.