Dear Mr. Sandman (You Mutha Fuckin’ Bastard),
Hello. Let me introduce myself. My name is Maggie Moo and I’d like to talk 2 U. I would like to know why you have stopped visiting me. Was it something I said? Do you not like me sheets?
Do my pajamas offend you?
I am very confused, Mr. Sandman, because you are supposed to “Bring me a dream”. Every night I close my eyes, say my prayers like a good girl, and wait.
And…wait. And every night I am disappointed because you skip my house and leave me tossing and turning, sleepless and tired dropping only when the sun starts to rise.
Is it that you run out of magic sand before you get to my street? Perhaps you can plan ahead of time from now on. I’d be willing to barter some of that magic dust of yours for….let’s say, chocolate chip cookies. Or lemon tarts. Or whatever little sand-throwing gnome-like men eat.
I’m in. I’m game. Just bring me that magic sand.
Lull me to sleep. Make a friggin sandcastle in my eyes. I don’t care. Load ‘em up…I can take it. Pretend like it’s a day at the beach.
But please….enter Sandman.
Your friends and loyal supporter,
PS. If you choose to ignore this request, I will have the Boogie Man kick your ass.