An Open Letter

I hope this letter finds you and yours healthy, happy and hirsute. We’re doing fine here on the ranch. It looks as if this years knish crop will be among our finest ever. That was some winter, wasn’t it? We still have snow in the backyard.

But that’s mainly because that bastard neighbor of ours, Periwinkle Strothers, hates when snow gets on his Astroturf so he snow blows and shovels it all into our yard. This year, combined with the snowfall we naturally got, we had over eighty-seven cubits of snow piled up. I swear old Per gathers up snow from his neighbors to put in our yard just to keep me from my spring hobby, naked snake juggling (I’m naked. The snakes wear tube socks. Just so we understand each other that it’s not weird).

But you don’t want to hear my travails. This is about a serious issue I’ve noticed over the last few years. And it’s not with many of my hard working friends (although some of those lazy working friends have succumbed). It’s with those who aren’t working anymore. It could be due to getting their dumb asses fired or it could be they were just fed up working for the man so up and quit; they could be faking an injury, oh, I’m not implying anything. I’m sure if you got hurt you really got hurt! They could have taken their retirement; they could be a member of the leisure class. But the type of that ilk who falls in to this have too much leisure and not enough class.

What I’m getting at is y’all got a bunch of time on your hands if you fall into one of those non-working categories. And you know that old saying, idle hands make you do things you’ll be embarrassed about later (especially if the cat is watching). But the thing I’ve been noticing as of late is that plenty of these folks are getting themselves into a black hole. A black hole I’ve come to find out is called internet conspiracy theories.

Oh, I know, they’ve been out there for years. Way long before that internet thing. I remember Batboy! But it’s reached a critical mass where people who, just six months ago I was having pleasant conversations about the theory of relatives, get all up in my grill telling me all about how the pyramids were actually alien space crafts that ran out of spewtonium 47 so had to stay there. They know this because an archaeologist by the name of Percival VanRouge dug deep enough under the pyramids to see the long dormant thrusters.

I know this opens up a whole new line of questioning. Things like, why are they telling me this? Did I ever exhibit a desire to learn about the pyramids? Or aliens for that matter? And what’s up with all the people with their first name starting with P in this letter? That’s weirder then the pyramid thing.

It wouldn’t be so bad if they just told their little pyramid story and ran. Oh no, they spiral right down into that glory hole, no wait, that’s not right. It’s some kind of hole. If I think of what it is I’ll come back and change it. But they don’t stop there. After the pyramids it’s the Mayans then the fact that Stonehenge is actually worn down family sculptures of the original land owners (who actually started the Illuminati) on and on and on. I’ve got to tell you, by the time they finally get to the Kennedy assassination and 9/11 I’m plumb tuckered out.

Just this week I’ve had two ‘non-workers’ each monologue at me for over an hour. By the end of their enlightenment to me I was more confused then the time someone let me merge into rush hour traffic without threat of an accident but they were just getting started. They could have blathered all night. But, thankfully, my narcolepsy kicked in so I was spared.

Now, friend, people talking about anything is always a time where you have the chance of learning something. But when you tell me the beloved Fred Rogers, he of his own neighborhood, was a sniper and was in Dallas the day some of JFK got out of the car, well friend, you start to lose me.

And, boy, do they think you’re stupid then! Holy granola enemas! When they first started talking to me about the secret room the phone company has to listen to everything we say they did it knowing I’d not only get it but I’d probably have some insight to add. But when I dared question the veracity of a secret room (that comes up #1 when you search for it in Google – I was told to do that and, because they were standing over me, I did. You’d think a real secret room would be further down in the search. But, what do I know?) all of a sudden I’m at the intelligence level of a moldy zucchini.

I guess what I’m saying is, if you’re not working for any reason, do yourself and everyone you’ll run into a favor. Get out of the house! Turn off the fucking computer! Go to a meeting (well, depending on the meeting that may not be a good idea)! Volunteer at a homeless rodeo! Take up table tennis!

All I’m saying is, it’s not healthy to spend the time equivalent of your old work day scouring the internet trying to ferret out if Aaron Burr was really a cross-dresser. I can see where it’s so easy to do. You have time on your hands, the equivalent of the an unlimited database at your fingertips. I can see how it’s so easy to slip down a rabbit hole (that’s the word! Don’t forget to change it from the earlier hole reference). That’s why you should take a second and push yourself away from the computer. I know the internet is a fascinating place. But, as with most fascinating places, danger lurks. I’m not saying don’t expand your mind to the possibilities of what’s under the surface of the world. I’m just saying, don’t make it your world. Maybe you could get a hobby to fill some time. May I suggest naked snake juggling?



3 responses to “An Open Letter

  1. But what about Easter Island being the true birthplace of the Easter Bunny?!!!!

  2. Notre Dame and Bound & Gags Fan

    Your advice to get away from the computer is really helping me have a better life. I had no idea there were so many interesting new shows on TV. The reality shows are awesome!

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