“I can’t understand why I can’t understand, and I don’t know who to ask for help.”
An Open Letter To Apollo
I see you got the goats I sacrificed!
2020 has been an eventful year, thanks to your help. Great work sir, you really went above-and-beyond with my request, however (and I hope this doesn’t sound like more than a nitpick because I am grateful) my aim with those sacrifices was more in hopes that you’d break up Todd and my ex, and less about bringing about the beginning of the end of the world. I really miss her, and Todd’s such a prick at work, but hundreds of thousands are dead, and he’s still technically “boyfriend material.”
I do want to reaffirm, my lord, just how incredibly thankful I am that you would honor the prayers of so humble a servant.
Did I sacrifice too many goats? Is that it? Was three too much?
I’m not a shepherd or Greek or anything, but I feel like three is a pretty mundane amount of goats to offer up. I was more hoping that you would make Katie not so attracted to muscles or maybe make Todd lose interest in women and/or working at the museum entirely. This is fine, just to reaffirm, I don’t want to be a whiner. I do miss her though, as well as my Nana who was stung to death by murder hornets last week. I know better than to challenge the gods, so thank you as always.
Another thing, I feel I should mention, and I promise, this isn’t a complaint, but when I tried to reach out to you about quelling the spread of COVID-19 (three more goats) you did not stop the pandemic so much as emboldening large groups of white supremacists to challenge basic human rights on a communal and individual level in my country.
I don’t think unsacrificing them is an option at this point, but if there’s a way to rescind the previous request, while maybe making Todd less funny, I would be quite pleased with that. I’m attempting a sacrifice to you one more time, o lord, in hopes of exchanging Todd’s handsomeness for my irritable bowel syndrome. I should add, that I want nothing more beyond that.
Quarantined in my apartment, I haven’t been able to procure any “quality” animals for sacrifice. All I have to work with right now are bugs and/or my roommate, and I feel that the latter would be morally wrong? Unless maybe - you know what - forget it. I’m just hoping the bugs I sent work for you.
I don’t know if sending back murder hornets is considered regifting, but if it is, sorry, and I can offer something else: libations, mice, maybe a masterclass or- hold on a minute. Something’s happening on the news right now. Give me a moment.
Okay, it seems you did get my message, and lions have escaped from zoos all across America. That’s fine. Thank you. I think I’m going to stop sending you things and just make a tinder profile.
Box of Spiders
Life is like a box of spiders.
It may not be exactly what you bargained for and there’s a lot more spiders than you’d expect.
Shame On You Prose.
You ever notice how: those words, rearranged, spells cue thievery now?
Shame on you, Prose.
Grown now, Midnight sought her own path.
Megan, however, couldn’t understand cats.
Midnight hides, her sister in pursuit.