Where I’ve Been
Dear World,
I’m sorry that I haven’t written you in a while. It’s been a busy couple of months. Where to begin, where to begin. I don’t know where to begin. Let me take a few minutes and think about it. If I don’t begin in the right place, this could get all tangled up in long spaghetti strands of chronological confusion, and nobody wants that. Well, except for the Marinara Monster, obviously. And giving the Marinara Monster what he wants is a sure-fire way to Garlic Bread Hell.
Ok. Let me start with my neighbor.
I spent a good two weeks watching my neighbor come unhinged and lose any grasp he once had on reality. This mostly manifested itself in him spending ten hours a day on his roof, carefully licking each and every shingle until he was satisfied with it. Don’t believe me? I have it all on video, I’ll post the shingle-licking excitement if I need to. Don’t provoke me, son, I’ll do it, I swear I will.
Then I decided that I’d really like to own a Concorde plane. The Concorde doesn’t make its trans-Atlantic flights any more, so it probably isn’t up to anything. I should be able to take it, keep it at the local general aviation airport, and hop in if I need to make a quick trip to Spain or something like that. I posted on Craigslist asking if anyone had a spare Concorde, and got a few leads. And that’s where the next few weeks went, following up on all of those lead.s Unfortunately, none of them panned out. Apparently other people snatched up the extra Concordes before I could get there. I just hope it wasn’t the Marinara Monster, we don’t want him getting anywhere faster than we can get away from him. Ugh, just the thought scares me half to death.
I then spend three days hiding under the blankets in bed, because I heard a noise outside. It turns out it was just an order of french fries. That was a close one.
I hope you didn’t miss me too much. I hope I didn’t drive any of you to suicide because you hadn’t heard from me in a while. If I did, I hope the suicide note spoke highly of me, even after I deserted you. I didn’t mean to hurt you, baby. You know I love you. If you come back to life, I promise never to let it happen again. I think you can pull a Jesus out of your hat, it’s not hard.
And now I leave you again. This time it won’t be for very long. Maybe a few minutes. Maybe five years. But never 50 years again. That was just crazy. I know the Internet was missing me for at least the last 45 years, I could feel it in my bones. You’ll all have to come over and yell at my shingle-licking neighbor for his distracting craziness. Stupid neighbor, be less distractingly insane.