Monday, November 22, 2004


Here's a list of really creative "curses" that Bill came up with in his spare time WARNING: do not read this at work or in public because a few of them are truly rolling on the floor funny... Also, you'll notice that a few of them only apply to males. But that's OK. They're still funny.

May a new form of louse appear on your head and may it be declared an environmentally protected species.

May you unknowingly pick up the annoying habit of saying "I, myself..." every time you speak in the first person.

May you wake up every morning to the sound of gerbils gnawing on tin foil.

May the actual shelf-life of every product you buy be mysteriously reduced by a factor proportional to its cost.

May you experience unexplainable and deep rooted feelings for terror every time that you see an animated pig.

May you be the announced grand prize winner of the "Win a Weekend Getaway in a Mountain Cabin With Richard Simmons" contest every other year, even though you never enter.

May both of your neighbors purchase large, noisy dogs. May both neighbors inexplicably name each of their dogs after you but claim that there is no relation. Furthermore, may the old lady down the street get confused and call the police repeatedly, complaining that several neighbors have told her that YOU were responsible for tearing up her flower beds, taking a dump in her yard, and possibly impregnating her dachshund.

May you get food poisoning every time you eat lettuce.

May a photo of yourself, taken for an unrelated contest at the mall, turn up in a wildly popular Enzyte commercial, portrayed as the "grumpy, whiny guy". Only then do you remember the fine print on the contest entry form, "All photos become the property of Sun Marketing Inc. I give legal consent for my name and likeness to be used in future promotions..."

May the cracks and stains in your driveway begin to resemble the image of Allah. May pilgrims from all over the globe gather in front of your house to witness this wonder. You will get the distinct impression that pulling your car out of the garage would be an act of utmost sacrilege.

May you gain fame for being listed in the Guinness Book of World Records for something involving paper cuts.

May the ratings for elasticity and reflectiveness of everything in your house be swapped.

May complete strangers keep pointing to you and saying, "Hey, it's that fungus guy". May they all have wildly differing recollections as to where they saw or heard about you.

May you acquire an overwhelming fascination with baskets.

May you always be assigned the number 23 whenever the opportunity arises.

May you always be the victim of pranksters who switch the sugar and salt in dispensers at restaurants.

Never agree to be hypnotized before an audience or you will surely wind up in jail.

May you become the guidepost by which "out of style" is measured.

May a birthmark shaped like "Mr. Yuk" appear on your forehead.

May you begin receiving dozens of "self help" pamphlets in the mail each week from various organizations and on a variety of topics.

May your nostrils become strangely attractive to ladybugs.

May you have reoccurring dreams about the food dancing around in your refrigerator, then, each time, find food scattered all over the place when you enter your kitchen the next morning.

May the roles of toothpaste and mustard switch roles in regards to your dental health...


Blogger Molly said...

Dang, someone must have cursed me - I do already have an overwhelming fascination with baskets!

6:06 AM, November 24, 2004  

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