Friday, March 25, 2011


OK, so I don't know who has it.  And I'm scared I'll never get it back. 

As you all know, I posted about how I'd lost my mojo, right?  That I was having trouble writing and all.  And now I know why.

So my mojo is soooooo very gone, that I didn't even bother checking my blog email address for quite a while.  This is partially because I lost my mojo, but also because I get tired of seeing how much money I am not making because I'm too afraid to respond to all those fabulous email offers I get from people who are telling me that I won the Canadian lottery or that some diplomat in Africa has died and wants to split his fortune with me 60/40.  If I would be brave and respond to these, I'm just oh so sure I'd be really freaking rich.  Sigh.  Oh and I'm also really lazy. In fact, I was almost too lazy to type that I'm really lazy.  That's pretty sad.

Anyway, so I finally decided to open my email and check out my inbox, right?  And I noticed an odd email address.  I won't put the whole email address, but the main gist of it was CookieMonster@xxxxxxx .  And the subject line read simply: 

ransom note


First I called out for Joshua to make sure he was in the house.  And he was.  So that's very good.  Because I'm not really sure how I'd explain to Jamey that somehow our son was kidnapped.  By Cookie Monster.  Then I wondered if someone had taken Quincy.  I debated on whether to go look out the front door for him, because let's be clear here: he is still uprooting whole azalea bushes and bringing them to our front door.  Like a cat.  I seriously think he is learning disabled.  However, I started to feel guilty, so I went, albeit very slowly, to the front door.  And dang it.  He was there.   And oh thank the good lord, he was there.

I wasn't going to even open the email, but of course, curiosity got the best of me.  I admit it.  I was hoping I'd won a lifetime supply of cookies.  Because let's face it.  That's better than any humongous monetary gift I could get from someone in Canada or Africa.


And so THIS is what I found when I opened it:

Yes, that is the actual, real live ransom note.  SO DON'T TOUCH IT!  You might get fingerprints on it or something.  Anyway, my first reaction was to be really pissed.  Because it took me about five minutes to be able to look at it long enough to actually read what it said. (Sensory overload.  Or laziness.  Probably laziness.)

But then my second reaction was to laugh my ass off.  (Not really.  It's still there.  I even checked because I was sure it fell off when I laughed.  No such luck.  Dammit.)  Because it says:

Dear Carolyn We have your mojo. Put one dozen freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and a matchbox car in a brown paper bag. Wait for further instructions.

Funny, right?

But wait a minute.  They have my mojo!  That is horrible!

I am sitting here thinking several things about this obviously serious ransom note.  First off, why does Cookie Monster always want chocolate chip cookies?  Doesn't he know about oatmeal raisin ones?  Or peanut butter cookies?  Or snicker doodles?  Or my all-time favorite homemade ginger/molasses cookies that are so fabulous I could almost die?  Especially when eaten with a lovely cup of coffee or tea?  I mean, really CM.  You totally need to branch out.

Second, what's up with the matchbox car?  I hope CM doesn't think that's how he'd make his getaway.  Or do you think maybe he collects them?  Because if so, I don't want to get him a duplicate or anything, because that would just be rude. 

And third, why a brown paper bag?  A brown paper bag is so generic, he might miss it.  Doesn't he want it to be something super spectacular?  Maybe even a Sesame Street gift bag?  Because then he could easily identify it as his ransom bag, you know?  Instead of, say the Mario Brother's ransom bag.  Or Darth Vader's ransom bag.  Just saying.

So dear readers, I sit here before you, and I finally have an explanation of why I've only written three (and once I publish this one, four) blog posts this month.  And why I haven't written on my book, like, at all, this month.  

I also have a question for you.  Do I take the bait?  Do I tell CM I've got his stinkin' chocolate chip cookies and matchbox car in a plain brown paper bag?  I think the answer to that is very clear.  HELL YES.

So my open letter response is as follows: 

Dear CM, (whoever you are)

I've got your stuff.  I'm waiting for further instructions.  I pray to God you answer me back, because I WANT MY MOJO.  And something to do.  (Not really, because I'm lazy, but the readers might enjoy it.) But don't make it dangerous for me.  I've got a kid, remember?  I'd say I'd sick my dog on you, but I'm afraid all he would actually do is drool on you.  Unless I can figure out how to make you smell like an azalea.  Then you might appear at my front door before my very eyes one day.  Because don't forget.  He's like a cat.

Either way, please feel free to contact me again.  Thx.

Don't you think readers?  Contact, yes?  AWESOME.

Happy Day folks!

1 comment:

  1. You are just hilarious!! And you have a pretty sweet friend, too- that was VERY creative- and it helped you write!! Yay!!


Wanna say something? Cool. But I reserve the right to make fun of you if I want to.