The Dirge Story



His name was Dirge. His full Christian name was Dirge Dirge. Dirge led a double life, he sucked hard and he was an asshole. As synonymous as this may appear, it is far from the case. In the guise of Dirge, just Dirge, he sucked hard. No matter how, no matter what Dirge did; he was constantly failing.

Before we proceed, perhaps some back-story is needed. Dirge was born with one eye. His mother would always console him, “Don’t feel sorry for yourself. Feel sorry for the three-eyed person who stole your eye from the “gene pool” That person is a bigger freak, super freak, she’s or he’s super freaky.”

A strange sensation of blindness and numbness would always overtake Dirge’s mother when she spoke those exact words, which was often. There was nothing more satisfying than utilizing an appropriate air quote.

His persistent failure would lead to Dirge, just Dirge to suck even harder, hyperventilate, run in place like cartoon cats on a floor full of banana peels, an extreme futile act or solution without proper closure. This is what made Dirge suck hard, among other things, like being flatulent and always apologizing.

At night, his other side would emerge, Dirge Dirge. The asshole. The selfish guy who put himself first, except in moments of danger. You may know a Dirge Dirge, maybe he’s your womanizing alcoholic dad, or your hypocrite of a rabbi, or your disheveled president. Roll them all up in one gob, multiply that by 3.5, and you’ve got Dirge Dirge.

The big physical difference to daytime Dirge was that Dirge Dirge wore an eyepatch over where his other eye should have been. This allowed him to blend in with society. In an early test run, he actually put the patch over his good eye. Needless to say, hilarity ensued, and it looked plain weird.


“I’ve been keeping an eye on you… you know, figuratively.”

After having many adventures of great asshole derring-do with Tom Sawyer, Marty McFly and Dick Cheney (So many, too many tales); Dirge Dirge and Dirge, just Dirge passed away peacefully in his, or their sleep behind the wheel of a speeding car at the tender age of 42. What followed was not so peaceful. Metal and plastic scraping on the asphalt, slamming thudding auto hard against a big tree, followed by a milder than expected explosion. The fire burned for many hours.

Turns out Dirge was right. When he was twenty-one, he bought a sports car, dozens of loud Hawaiian shirts, over the counter Viagra® and a toupee. He claimed he was going through a mid-life crisis. We laughed uncomfortably because it was kind of funny.

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