By Wellcome Images

Hey everyone,

This is not an excuse for my behavior, but I was seriously not myself from Oct. 25-29.

I was possessed, actually.

Woke up that Wednesday morning and–surprise!–a demonic entity named Gargebehemnon, spawn of Havrigvalvula, from sub-level IV, anguish chamber Ѡ, of the Mefusthalar Plane, decided to make my soul its new temporary home.

So, yeah, for 4 days, I was kind of not a nice person. Here it is, guys, my mea culpa:

Janice, okay, maybe I was bleeding out of my eyes and all 49 flesh screeds of Beelzebub Minor were literally burning themselves into my skin, but I did not have to say that about your spinach dip. I’m sorry and I take it back and I’d love the recipe.

Yes, Doug, although I was a servant of the Beast and the cosmetics I bought from the mall did a crap job of masking my wings and cloven feet, there was no reason not to text you that I was bailing on our fantasy football meeting. I apologize to you and the team. May the Who Moved My Cheeseheads fare way better this weekend.

You had a hard day, Bill, what with your Keurig machine on the blink again, and what was I doing when you needed a friend? Vomiting out all those spiders and centipedes using my mouth as an exit point from hellhole Ӝin the Mefusthalar Plane. I know, buddy, not cool, but I hope we can grab a beer and clear the air when I finally get the taste of insect off my tongue.

Father Donovan. Wow, my head severing itself from its spine and spinning 360 degrees does not make okay what I said about your family, whom I’ve never even met. I mean I would never tell anyone to do that to themselves, even after meeting them. You had a full pallet of expired communion wafers to deal with and the Church bureaucracy to uphold, and there I was, not even a Catholic, spinning into your office, no appointment, with yellow eyes and a forked tongue to boot. Very rude. (Appreciate the referral, though, the Back Alley Exorcists were a huge help.)

P.S. Let me know If I’ve forgotten anyone.