The results were in. I was going to have to gouge my eyeballs out with a tablespoon and then feed them to Guido, the hungry rhinosaurous on granddad's farm. If I didn't do that, my eyeballs would slowly seep down my face over the next three years. This had to be done.

I stuck the spoon in my eye. It made a sound like GLICK. Blood shot everywhere. My peripheral vision diminished by about 45 per cent. Then I stuck the spoon in my other eye. [NOTE: THE REST OF THIS STORY IS BEING TRANSCRIBED BY MY WIFE, BRENDA, SINCE I CANNOT WRITE SINCE I AM BLIND.]

I was blind. But I wouldn't let that diminish my dream of being a professional marathon runner. I ran two marathons a day and I had to go run one now. I ran out of the house, knocking over a Grecian Urn, a jar of marmalade, and Colonel Sanders. Then I went running down the street. A car hit me but that didn't matter. I got up and kept running. It felt like my left calf had been shorn off completely. I could feel my knee bone as it punched against the pavement, but I didn't care. I had to make the Olympics. So I ran. Mind over matter.

I ran by the elementary school and some of the kids screamed when they saw me (I apparently forgot to put clothes on.) I ran into the chain link fence and a retarded kid grabbed me through one of the links and pulled my [WIFE EDITS THIS OUT] off. Anyway, I was bleeding even more but I put that out of my mind. I ran.

I think my wife drove up next to me and asked if I'd be home for American Idol. "No," I said. "I'm blind. I can't watch it."

"But you can still hear," she said.

"That's what you think," I said before yaking a knife to stab my eardru