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How to Break Curses…

IMAG0407Ah, February, my dreaded enemy, we meet again as we do every year. This time I have come to the lists armed and ready to defeat you. There can be only one victor and I will not allow myself to be defeated by you this year. I gained the upper hand last year, and that has enraged you. You may have struck out at me from the shadows, but I will not be defeated again!

I have a Curse

It’s true, you know. Perhaps you are one of those people that believes my curse is purely superstition and that I should ignore it and move on with my life. Perhaps you are one of those people that close mindedly thinks that science says I’m crazy so I must be crazy.

Well, to you I say, “Bah!”

That’s right, Bah to you! Science is on my side on this one. Statistically speaking, no one could have so many bad things happen to them annually without it being obvious there is a clear pattern to it. A pattern of misfortune is pretty much the definition of a curse. So, your science be damned. I’m going back to fighting the hoodoo with some juju of my own. I’m going to break the curse for ever (not just with my spear and magic helmet.)

How do you break a curse?

Well, I spent a little bit of time on the internet searching for the secret answers of the universe to break this dreaded February curse, and though I dug through literally 3 different websites that sell counter curse amulets, none of them sell one specialized in Month based curses. I found this highly odd since it seems to me that everyone has a cursed month. I don’t know anyone that doesn’t have that one time of year when they go, “Damn something bad always happens in ______.”

So, I decided I would dig deeper into the primordial ooze of world magicaliness, and create my own amulet of anti February Juju.

I consulted every tome of arcana I could get my hands on, and when I got done flipping through all of the spells and magic items in the D&D books in my office, I once again turned to the dark neather ya-yas of the internet. No, not 4chan, never 4 chan.

I’m referring to the deepest blackest places, known only to the elder search engines… like WebCrawler.

Deep, ancient tomes of Internet lore on sites hosted by the likes of Tripod and Geocities.

And, lo, did I behold a ritual from the dawn of the age. From the time before the coming of MySpace and LiveJournal. Basically, it was a ritual for luck that predated the modern age of man, almost from prehistory, when the world had but an infant internet.

In the dead of the night, I gathered my supplies:

1 Piece of Printer Paper, dyed with tea to look aged and the edges burned with a lighter

1 Black Sharpie with a  feather duct taped to it to make it a quill pen

1 cup of strawberry flavor-aid because real strawberry juice is expensive and I was told that’s what Virgin’s blood meant

1 votive candle stolen from the shelf in the living room

1 cigarette  lighter

 

I turned off the lights, which was fine, because the computer monitor was plenty to see by and I needed to read the sacred ritual off of the screen anyway.

Then, carefully I drew the symbols of anti-February JuJu on my piece of sacred parchment.

AntiFebruary Charm

First I drew the sigil for February with the magical goose quill of power: A groundhog, sporting a Lincoln beard, top hat, Washington Wig, cherub wings and a little heart.

Then, using a sacred brush I happened to have sitting around for when I pretend like I  know how to paint, I colored a bright red “x” over the top of it with strawberry juice.

Now I shall carry the sigil with me to ward off the evil Hoodoo of February Curses.*

 

 

 

 

Now that the Curse is Broken

I can continue on with my life, hopefully never having any reason to fear February ever again, no matter what it throws at me. I can stomache anything, be it the end of a relationship, or a zombie apocalypse or a stubbed toe.

I’m ready February, Bring it on!

*Important Note: I did not actually do any of these things because I couldn’t find my lighter. I think I left it in the car… DAMN YOU FEBRUARY YOU WIN AGAIN!

Published by M.A. Brotherton

M.A. Brotherton is a writer, blogger, artist, and fat-kid from the suburbs of Kansas City, Missouri. He’s tasted a little bit of everything the Midwest has to offer, ranging from meth-tweaking rednecks in massive underground cave complexes to those legendary amber waves of grain. When he’s not writing, he spends most of his time screwing around on the internet.