I am a bird in a box. Cover my face in…sorry. I didn’t see you sitting there. Perhaps you could be a little bit better at announcing yourself. A little “ahem” never hurt anybody. Unless they were hiding from Nazi forces under the floorboards.

On a related note, that would be a terrible time to have Tourette’s. “Son of a bitching bastard” indeed.

My dad used to say “son of a bitching bastard” all the time. You don’t hear that much anymore. Damn millenials. They have ruined everything with their political correctness. They think everything should be handed to them- even swear words. Fuck you. There you go. I handed you something.

Anyway, the other day I watched a movie with my wife. It was called “Bird Box.” It has Sandra Bullock in it. To be honest, I really can’t stand Sandra Bullock. Name one movie that Sandra Bullock is any good. Keep thinking. No, Speed is not any good. It is one of Keanu Reeves’ worst movies. That should tell you something. Anyway, Sandra Bullock sucks.

So, in the movie people start seeing demons. I don’t know where these demons came from (hell, I presume). More importantly, I don’t know why the demons all of the sudden decided to show themselves. What have they been doing for the last six thousand years? Playing board games?

“Sorrrrr-rreeeeeee!!!!! In your face, Balthazar! In. Your. Face.”

Balthazar rolls his eyes. “When are we going to show ourselves to the humans and make them go all crazy and shit?”

“Soon enough. Quit being a poor sport. Just a few more games and then we will go.”

“Alright.” Balthazar rolls. “Seven. Dammit.”

Anyway, since Balthazar already let it out of the bag, the plot of the movie is that demons show themselves to people and then people start going crazy and either kill themselves or other people. The goal, it seems, is the destruction of the entire human race. Kind of like the voters in West Virginia. Or Oklahoma. Etc.

But, if you don’t look at the demons, they can’t hurt you. Thus, the survivors take to wearing blindfolds all the time. Also, the demons can’t get into houses. This makes no sense at all. But don’t blame me, I didn’t write the stupid movie.

Eventually, Sandra takes two kids down the river heading for a safe place (hopefully). Of course, they would have been dead in about fifteen minutes. Over the boat goes and when they surface, bam!! Smiling demons everywhere. Game over.

Two days later, they land on the bank of the river. I missed a few things in my summary, but you can probably guess what these things were if you’ve ever watched any apocalyptic movie. Anyway, Sandra and the children follow the sounds of birds and eventually find the safe place. Surprise!!! It is a school for the blind! The demons didn’t think that one through, now did they? Just like they forgot to figure out a way to go into people’s houses. Even though they are supernatural spirits who are not restricted by temporal barriers. Other than doors and windows, which stop them every time.

So, Sandra and the children get into the blind people’s house and all is better. Other than the fact that they are surrounded by demons who will never stop trying to drive them crazy. There are also some evil human beings who are helping the demons. They can do some of the things the demons can’t. Like go into a house uninvited. Sound familiar? Heh heh. Familiar. I’m still funny after all that rest.

Anyway, the movie ends and the people are all happy even though they are clearly screwed, barring supernatural intervention.

There are also some birds. They are in a box. Well, not at the beginning or end. In the middle.

Well, that was a long nap. I guess I was sort of sleepy. Fourteen months later and I am fresh as a daisy. When I woke up, I thought that I had just dreamed Trump was president. Joke’s on me. And soybean farmers.

If you thought I’d gone to Canada, well, that was ridiculous. I can’t get into Canada. At least not long term. They want smart people. Or rich people. And preferably not Americans. Xenophobic, maple leaf waving bastards.

Anyway, I had a lot of emails when I arose from my slumber. Half of them were requests. Everybody wants something whether you are there are not. All of these emails end with “Thank you for understanding.”

I have news for these people. Maybe I understand and maybe I don’t. I mean, it is a bit presumptuous to assume I understand. “Dear MO, I will be selling your fishing rod. It seems no one can find you and I need the money for heroin. Thank you for understanding.”

As you can see, I have no understanding for the above example. Why would I? Pull yourself up by your own bootstraps if you want heroin. Not that I am advocating for heroin use. I certainly don’t understand that, either. I hate needles, for one thing. Plus, I watched Trainspotting. Frightening. That poor baby. The Scots are some real bastards. No wonder Longshanks didn’t like them.

Anyway, I wonder when this “thank you for understanding” thing started? After all, somebody was the first to do everything. I know, right? Where’s the beef? Duuuuude? Violators will be prosecuted. Amen. All hail Ming!

Perhaps the first usage went something like this:

Dear (insert Indian tribe name here),

I am writing this to inform you that those blankets we gave you may (or may not) have been ridden with smallpox. If so, I apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused. Thank you for understanding.

Yours Truly,

New Ownership

Of course, it could have been something a bit more benign.

Dear (insert name of anyone growing up in the 70’s),

Hi! I hope your day is going well. Anyway, you know those bell bottom jeans you are wearing. Well, they are really stupid looking. And they will never, ever come back into style. Like, mullets might, but those jeans never will. Somebody will give it a shot, but it won’t happen. That is because those jeans are really stupid. Sorry about that. Thank you for understanding.

Sincerely,

Futuristic Descendant of Guy Who Came Up with Bell Bottom Design

Another alternative comes from recent news.

Dear Ignorant American,

You may have noticed a number of politically divisive articles on social media. To be perfectly honest, we have written these articles to fool you into electing an Orangeish reality tv star to your highest office. Sorry about that. Thank you for understanding.

Russian Bot Number 1

PS- Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama are having an affair. In a clandestine site that doubles as a pizza parlor. They are also chopping up children and using them as pepperoni. Their workers are illegal aliens (likely MS 13 members) who have crossed the border every place there is no wall. The End Times are near. Buy Smirnoff vodka. Putin is love.

Phew! That was a lot of work. I already need another nap. It won’t be as long as that last one, though. If you were worried about me, I apologize. I was sleepy. Thank you for understanding.