The Absurd Epistolary Adventures of the Astonishing FartMan chronicles the amusing escapades
of the lovable, stinky, and obnoxious Cape & Tights Super Hero, and his maudlin Alter Ego, W____,
as they learn to cope with Stage IV colon cancer, each other, and their annoying fellow human beings.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

'Shrooms

From: W____
To: V____
Sent: Sat, Mar 19, 2011 8:36 PM
Subject: Re: Shitaki Mushrooms

Hey V_____,

All the talk lately in our cancer support forum about the healing power of 'shrooms brings back memories of my misspent youth. Well, actually, I’m not sure if those are memories . . . or flashbacks. Ahh, those were the days, when we were bulletproof and thought we’d live forever!

Yes, V_____, you are right. I am too funny . . . in writing . . . sadly, much less so . . . in person. Mine is the wit that always knows just the thing to say, approximately ten minutes after it’s too late to say it, which is fine for writing, but makes for a dull mute boy in the flesh. (T. A. FartMan is the one with the snappy wit, so he usually beats me to the punch and leaves me looking stupid, especially since I'm the favorite victim of his banter.)

Wow! I don’t know how you bounce back so fast from surgery. Glad to hear that you are recuping so well. It’s taken me two months halfway to recover from a right hepatectomy. I still feel pretty wimpy, with no muscle power and no stamina. Going back on the devil juice three weeks ago didn’t increase my verve. But you’ve been through it all, and more, so there’s no need for me to explain and no justice in me whining to you.

S’posed to return to work Monday. With luck there’ll be no work to do, so I can continue pursuing my alternative career doing little projects around the house. Speaking of which, here’s a picture of my latest home improvement, a spice drawer:



To tell you the truth, I've sorta gotten the feeling that whatever needs doing around this house, I better get busy doing it, while I've still got the time. FartMan is absolute zero help with such things. When it comes to music, or art, or politics, or theology, or literature, or philosophy, or other fluffy stuff, T. A. FartMan is the kind of snooty smarty pants you want to have around to complicate things properly. But for drilliing a hole, or digging a hole, or patching a hole, I'm your man, and The FartMan is worse than worthless.

Thinking of you!

W_____