adBlockCheck

Recent News

What You Need To Know About Last Night’s Oscars Debacle

Many viewers were left wondering about the sequence of events that led to the initial erroneous declaration of ‘La La Land’ as the Best Picture winner at the Academy Awards Sunday instead of the real winner, ‘Moonlight’. The Onion breaks down what you need to know about this fiasco.

God Sick Of New Angel’s Annoying Fucking Voice

THE HEAVENS—Calling the sound a “cross between a train whistle and a dying goat,” God, Our Lord And Heavenly Father, told reporters Monday that He was already sick of a new angel’s “incredibly fucking annoying voice.

Brad Pitt Sidelined 6 To 8 Weeks With Red Carpet Toe

LOS ANGELES—Saying doctors strongly recommended that he stay off the injured foot, representatives for Brad Pitt confirmed to reporters Sunday that the actor was sidelined six to eight weeks with a case of red carpet toe.

The Onion’s 2017 Oscar Picks

The 89th Academy Awards features a more diverse slate of film and actor nominees than in past years, though the ceremony could still field #OscarsSoWhite criticism. Here are The Onion’s picks for who should take home the coveted Oscar statuettes:
End Of Section
  • More News

How Can I Go On With Life After Losing A Finger?

When I came out of surgery after my car accident, I was overjoyed. I promised myself I would make the most of this second chance by living life to the fullest. But my joy quickly turned to horror as I gazed down upon my left hand. I screamed to the attending nurse, "Where's the rest of me?" But she couldn't answer. My once perfect hand, the pride of my arm, was missing a finger. God turned His back on me that day, and I realized at that moment, I was only 99.2 percent of a man.

Without a finger, my life was utterly ruined. I was mutilated almost beyond recognition. My finger, gone. And not just any finger. It was one of my favorites.

Back in a more innocent time, I used to pick up all sorts of things: pens, cans, glasses. You name it, I would pick it up, if it weren't too heavy. Now grasping even the simplest of objects is a painful reminder that I used to have 10 fingers to pick things up with, even if I didn't use them all to do so.

Maybe I can get a prosthetic finger. Those have come a long way since the days when they were just little hooks. The top-of-the-line models look almost lifelike. No one would ever notice. Right? Oh, who am I kidding? You can spot those things from a mile away. My only hope is to conceal my hideous disfigurement with one of those hand covers.

And what happens if someone wants to shake my hand? There's a chance that someone will perceive where my finger once was. I can see it now: I'm at a party. I'm introduced to a lady—my prospective wife, potentially—and she's all smiles. She extends her elegant hand and, completely engrossed in her beauty, I reach for it, heedless of the mangled grip I'm about to inflict on her. Her face freezes and her smile collapses into revulsion. And I die alone. Like I deserve.

 It's true: You don't know how precious things are until they're gone. That I'll never again fully feel the caress of a banister against 10 fingertips is something I cannot bear. Though the doctor tried to cheer me up by saying I "only lost the top third" of my finger, it sure felt like I lost the whole thing. In fact, it felt like I lost my soul.

I'm a monster!

Okay. I know this is not the end of the world. I'm a survivor. I beat that sprained ankle, and I can beat this. But every day is a struggle. Society can never understand someone like me—cannot and will not. It would be a lot easier if I could look to a role model for guidance or inspiration. Where are the nine-fingered movie stars and singers and basketball players? Where's the Lance Armstrong for guys who are missing a part of one finger?

That's what I'll do. I'll start training for the Tour de France now and, in a couple of months, I will win it and show everyone that I did it with only nine fingers. I will be the guiding light for guys missing a finger to pick up their lives and say, "I can do this."

What a lie. I can't do this. They'd have to build a special bike to accommodate my special needs, and I'd be disqualified. I should fade forever from the public eye.

All I can do now is play "What if?" What if my window had been down when I got in that fender bender? What if the doctor hadn't failed me? What if some miracle could somehow make me whole again?

I torture myself like this for hours on end. I fantasize about life as a normal person, and I momentarily forget that I am but a walking shadow, doomed to wander aimlessly through life among the shunned and the outcast.

Sometimes, when I scratch my back with my left hand, I can almost believe that it is with all four fingers. Alone at my desk, I'll catch myself drumming my fingers, and then realize that my rhythm has been forever altered, and that I should stop embarrassing myself.

If I could, I'd shoot myself and spare the world the agony of having one more nine-fingered guy draining society. But with my pathetically insufficient digits, I'd just botch the job.

Save your pity. I don't deserve it.

More Videos

WATCH VIDEO FROM THE ONION

More from this section

God Sick Of New Angel’s Annoying Fucking Voice

THE HEAVENS—Calling the sound a “cross between a train whistle and a dying goat,” God, Our Lord And Heavenly Father, told reporters Monday that He was already sick of a new angel’s “incredibly fucking annoying voice.

Sign up For The Onion's Newsletter

Give your spam filter something to do.

Close