This 5-letter word can cure cancer
The word is money.
With money you can afford the best healthcare in the world, and even secret, exclusive treatment that other people don’t receive. You know, the stuff that actually works, that they reserve specifically for the most wealthy elites in the world.
If Magic Johnson can beat Aids in the 80’s, (like the South Park episode showed), than you can beat Cancer in 2023 for the right price.
There’s already chemo, and other therapies than can help you beat it, but the only true cure is large sums of money.
And lots of you are probably yelling, “Money can’t cure cancer!” But you’re only saying that because you don’t have the amount of money that can cure it.
But hey, maybe you’re right, and maybe I’m wrong, and money can’t cure cancer. Maybe this article is insensitive and I shouldn’t have even tried.
The point is that money can fix most of your problems. If you don’t agree, again, it’s because you don’t have enough money.
This article may cause cancer.
I’m sorry you read it, and I’m sorry for the risk I’ve put you through. I pray that you do not get cancer.
I don’t want anyone to get cancer.
I don’t want anyone to suffer in general.
So hopefully I can reverse the bad karma placed on this article.
Please try to relax and calm down.
The more riled up you get, the more likely you are to compromise your immune system and get cancer.
Cancer is not funny.
Nothing is inherently funny.
Its actions and intentions that make something humorous.
The same way nothing is inherently good or evil.
Things just are.
I don’t know why I’m trying to explain this to you.
I’m not going to change anyones mind based on an article with such an outrageous title, and premise.
Is this article doing more harm than good?
Does anyone enjoy this?
Am I cursed to have these thoughts and questions float around my head for the rest of my life?
I don’t know.
And all I can do is hope that we all have a good life.
And you might think, “Oh, he’s just trying to backpedal and virtue signal and get out of being scrutinized for this bad article.” And you’re completely right.
I’ll do whatever it takes to be on the right side of any issue no matter what it is or what my personal beliefs are.
I just want to be liked and in the powerful majority, so I will skew my behavior towards that pattern.
I want to benefit myself.
And I want to leave everyone alone at the same time.
I don’t want to ruffle any feathers or bother anyone.
If this has bothered you I sincerely apologize.
I don’t know you (or maybe I do) but I can tell that you’re a good person because you’re read this far.
Nobody reads anything that’s over a few paragraphs.
So this is shocking you’re still here.
I’m not going to waste anymore of your, or my, time, so I’m just going to delete this article instead of posting it.
Oh sh*t I hit post instead of delete.
Please don’t be mad at me for posting it instead of deleting it! I’m just a klutz! I make mistakes, we all do!
Up, it looks like my pager is beeping, I need to go down the street and sell meth to the quadriplegic on my block. He loves this stuff. He says it makes him feel like he can moves his arms and legs again. He smiles and laughs and it makes me feel good because it makes him happy, and lord knows he deserves to be happy with that crippling debilitation. Poor guy. At least the meth brings him some joy.
Sorry, this is TMI, I didn’t need to share all that with you. But sometimes I like to give you a little peak behind the curtain here at TNF and show you what’s going on behind the scenes. How the sausage gets made. My writing salary is very small so I’m forced to sell amphetamines and such on the side.
And you might think, “nobody’s forcing you to do an immoral job like drug dealer,” But in my neighborhood it’s all we know. I was raised around the hustle and no other jobs ever gave me a chance because of my background so I was forced to sell dope on the streets. Trust me, it bums me out too. But I have to make ends meet. And I have to crank mens meat. (That means, I also have to masturbate, but again, that’s TMI.)
So it’s a lowly life, but it’s all I know. Write fake news article and sell drugs to disadvantaged people. Makes me shed a tear every night, but then I remember there’s no crying in the dope game, so I man up and I bust out a few reps on my bench press in my garage. I only have milk jugs full of rocks I tied to the ends of a broom, but it’s a bench press to me.
I’m sorry, I was supposed to be writing about how money can cure cancer but I ended up spilling my personal life into my work. I’m sorry ya’ll, this isn’t like me. Normally I get my job done and I do my thing, and that’s it. Anyways, I’ve got to head out to sell that stuff now, I hope you have a good rest of your evening.