DeWese–Try Hypnosis – Sell Like Magic!
This column is way out on the edge. It falls in the category of “experimental prose.” It has not been approved for general use by any government agencies.
As a matter of fact, if you are . . .
2. suffering from high blood pressure;
3. wearing mittens to prevent thumb sucking;
4. wearing mittens to prevent scratching your eyes out; or
5. wearing a straight jacket
. . . then, you probably should excuse yourself from this column now.
Come to think of it, if you are reading this from a hospital bed, ring the nurse button now and have this magazine incinerated with the medical waste. If you recently had a stroke, triple bypass surgery or any kind of brain surgery, DO NOT READ THIS COLUMN.
If you bet the farm on the Atlanta Falcons in this past Super Bowl, you should not read this column. It could lay more waste to your mind.
If you were recently dumped by your significant other, or if you’ve never managed to have a significant other, you just might want to steer clear of this column.
So Much for Disclaimers
Neither me, Harris DeWese, nor the funny little man who lives in my head, the Mañana Man, is responsible for the content of this column or any physical or mental injury it may cause you. In other words, you can’t sue me but, of course, you can sue old “deep pockets”—the U.S. Postal Service—for delivering the magazine.
OK! That takes care of all the disclaimers, injury waivers and “hold harmless” notices that my ace attorney, J. Marcelle Thibidault, Esquire, warned me I should make.
This column will be a first in literary history. It is the first known attempt to hypnotize a mass audience using the printed page. Your participation means that you will be able to refer to yourself as a “historical figure.”