A Little Thank You Note

Why have you not sent me my lefse? You know how much I would like some, and I won't make it myself. Why should I? You should make it for me, and send it to me. I've found vegan recipes on the internet. You can't do the same? Here's the thing. Everyday I come and pour out the treasures of my genius, heaped up into your lap, if you have one, and I have asked nothing, nothing in return. Not once. Never. I just keep giving and giving and giving, endlessly it seems, because that's how it is, and you slurp it all up like hyenas with their mucousy snouts deep in the bowels of some noble fallen beast. I guess you're too busy snarling and yipping to pause for a brief second to give a slight thought of thankfulness for the constant sacrifice that I'm always making for you. And when I finally, at long last unburden my one secret desire, well, you couldn't be bothered to take the hint. It was just too damn subtle apparently. No, of course I don't deserve any happiness or chance at it. Heaven forfend that a tiny glimmer of sunshine might find its way through the impenetrable darkness of this hellish existence to brighten for a briefest imperceptible moment the waking nightmare that is my life. Oh, no, I ask for nothing, certainly, loathing the very idea of any imposition on you or your own precious time. Who am I to do such an inconsiderate thing. It would be monsterous. Whereas I am so unworthy and worthless that I define my very existence around my ability to indulge your idle curiosity. After you've done so much for me, how could I refuse you? All that reading reading reading you've done, and your encouragement when you've sensed my loneliness and anguish -- silent encouragement of course, that I could never possibly know about except that I just know you're such a good person that it's just gotta be there, by golly -- how could I remain silent in the face of your manifest hypothetically potential consideration? It's not like you just come and lap up my sensitivity and wisdom like a bloated slug of a sucking vampire, draining me the way a fat greedy spider drains out a fly, an ugly stick insect like me, leaving a wasted husk to crumble into dust and blow away in some little puff of a breeze, I'm so insignificant. No, that's not it at all. I just know you'll always be here for me, the way you are, the way I'm here for you, day after hellish day, hunched over my computer hour upon grueling hour wracking my brain for something to amuse you with through the months and endless dragging years, peering through my rheumy eyes with a desperate yearning that someone will, oh, say, maybe send me some lefse, waiting and hoping and praying that someone, anyone at all, just some bored stranger will bother to notice me here all alone in the empty echoing agony I call my so-called life as I rip out my heart in great bloody chunks, pour out my soul like coagulating bile for your wry notice and carefree amusement and drive myself into an early and unmarked shallow grave clawed out with my bleeding fingertips letter by letter on this stinking meaningless futile keyboard, all in the forlorn hope that I might get maybe a sliver or dry crumb of lefse, the one single memory or moment of happiness I have ever had in the grim pounding decades of the punishment called existence. No. No. Generosity and courtesy like yours must be honored, maybe a sainthood or some high federal office like the presidency which it seems virtually anyone is qualified for so why not someone as perfect as you are? So I just wanted to say thanks a lot, cuz now I realize it's in the mail, my lefse that you made for me and sent me priority first class via the United States Postal Service, and maybe this delay was because of the slow economy or maybe those sunspots that are starting up, or something to do with the Mayan calender and 2012. So that's it then. Thanks a lot internet pal, and we'll just call it even, my one point two million words here on this wretched blog all laid out and free of charge gratis, and your gift albeit tardy for some reason of lefse to me. Thanks a lot again, did I say? Cuz I really would hate for anyone to think it was me who was being rude or ungrateful. What kind of a stinky scummy person would be that way. None of us. So did I say thanks yet? Yeah, thanks. Pal.

Your Best Pal,


J