Do you feel it? That empty place in your soul where trivial, useless musings used to live. It eats at you day after day, wondering about what's happened to Jack Grubb and his fabulous blog. Sure, you tried to fill the void with cat videos and whatever links George Takei throws at you on Facebook, but nothing can replace Losing the Internets. I know; I felt it too.
You can now stop sitting in the back of your closet drinking Mad Dog 20/20 listening to Depress Mode records in the dark. I'm back, baby, so please stop flooding my inbox with requests...
Screw you, guys! I could have been lying dead in a ditch for all you care. I could have been taken hostage by a rogue tribe of donkey-men demanding equal pay and their weight in hay. Man, this is more depressing than the time when my imaginary friend ran away with my imaginary dog. Even my Christmas elf ignores me.
That's right, I have a Christmas elf -- not that you care. He came as a package deal with Daffodil Snowflake, the Princess's elf. Her elf gives her special surprises, like a tub of cookie dough in the fridge or trips to the zoo. Daffodil texts the Princess with clever jokes and inspirational quotes. She loves her elf and draws it pictures depicting the two dancing and enjoying a nice yogurt parfait together.
My elf, Lazy von Jingles, hates me and I hate him. While Daffodil flitters around the house spreading sunshine and gaiety, Lazy von Jingles just sits on the couch eating pork rinds and scratching himself with our good spatula. Ask him to bring his plate to the sink or stop watching Pay-Per-View pornography, and he just spits in your eye. And the mouth on the bastard! Even Eminem was like, "Dude, you need to tone it down."
I didn't even want to get into the Elf Tradition. (Can you even call something started in 2005 a tradition?) If you're not familiar with Elf on a Shelf, let me fill you in. Evidently, Santa could give a crap about privacy rights as he sends his NSA-like elf spies to record your every move. From Thanksgiving until Christmas, these little a-holes watch to see what "naughty" things your family does on a day-to-day basis. Then on Christmas Eve, it goes back to Santa with a comprehensive report that makes the Affordable Care Act seem like light reading. Forget Elf on a Shelf, it should be called NARC in the Dark.
My elf, however, will have none of that. According to von Jingle, I'm already on the naughty list because "I know what I did." I can't even protest it to the big guy himself or a "dead hooker may find its way into my trunk." And forget about the nice gifts or experiences that some elves leave their charge. Here's what the Princess got from Daffodil Snowflake:
Here's the kind of texts I get:
The worst part of Lazy is whenever I ask if he's really leaving on Christmas, he just winks and says "Maybe." What the hell does that mean?! And why does he keep slapping me on the butt? Seriously!
Maybe now you'll feel bad for not caring if I posted another entry on the blog. It's pretty hard to write while hiding from some maniacal elf who keeps "accidentally" cutting the power lines. You know a nice note would have given me an emotional boost in this hard time. But go ahead, enjoy your holiday. Lazy von Jingles has a butter-sock full of Christmas cheer all ready for me.