Dear Louie. A letter to Louie C K

Dear Louie,

I have an anecdotal allegory that hit my mind and body simultaneously so hard the result was that I had a heart attack. This is how the story goes:

I was sitting in my room in a greatly chilled state of mind and I got to thinking about my day job: I work at a Nursery where we grow herbs. We sell loads! We’re herb dealers. Put that Mary Jane down son, throw that stuff away and pick up some RoseMaray. A thousand unit’s of Basil? Flip that. Ten thousand Chives? Done.

I started to think about the wastage – roughly 10% is grown and then thrown away...Due to it being too high, or whatever. All at once the word’s struck me, and the ‘Bit’ evolved:

So there’s this guy at work, Mikey - If this were Snow White he would be Dopey, and that’s for lack of mentioning his twin: Dumb Ass. One day Mikey came into work, and to the trained eye he was pretty drunk - I mean he smelt like Oliver Reed’s toothbrush did, and does now wherever it may be. This detail went unnoticed by our Manager and he set Mikey the - already in normal circumstances challenging - task of noting and throwing away 10,000 pot’s of Mint.

Well, Mikey got at it as best he could - feeling like he did and being how he is. Where the whole card house came tumbling down was because he also had to note every individual pot he threw into the compost heap: He was throwing two in and getting distracted, and not noting them, and then half realising, and then losing his pen – one time to the compost heap along with a handful of mint – and this went on...What I am trying to say is that he was trying to COMPOST MINT TOSS (!!!Compos Mentis!!!!)  but he couldn’t because he was so shit face drunk!!

Well that’s it for the story, but yet there’s still more!

When this came to me it creased me so hard inside it all got too much. Because what I was doing when I had this thought, was what I am usually doing when I have most Eureka moments – giving my man turkey the old hand jive. This sudden dual responsibility my mind had self inflicted on itself, of trying to process both deeply involved tasks at once was too much – and boom.

Next thing I knew I was in hospital and my first thought was recalling my last thought, as I hit the deck grabbing my neck and my ‘turkey neck’ equally hard: and that was You - not in a gay way but to tell you this little thing that did so much. I guess it’s actually a double whammy - an anecdotal allegory, inside an anecdotal allegory, and the message is: ‘Never strain yourself by tossing too hard if your either A: Drunk, or B: Stoned, because you’ll do yourself a mischief’

If this by any chance gets to you I’d love to hear what you think.

Regards, Louis. G. W.

England.

(N. B, - Fiction)