Hermit Crab Essays

By Mickey Gohl

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Letter To The Editor

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Dear Creator,

Our introduction to this planet is entirely misleading.  First, we have a complete stranger yank us out of our house, then we have someone to feed us with a bottle, wipe our asses, and be at our beck and call with just a scream. We get to lay around and do absolutely nothing all day. They clean up after us and pay to support us financially, buy our clothes, give us things to play with, and throw parties for taking on the responsibility of our care annually. This is an amazing life, and we are led to believe that that’s how it’s supposed to be.

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As we age, we’re forced to take on responsibilities such as doing dishes and cleaning up after ourselves and sometimes others. I don’t know about you, but I certainly didn’t ask for that! Some of us even end up caring for younger children that aren’t ours! Then at a certain age, usually eighteen, we’re expected to get a job, cook for ourselves, find a place to live, and pay for our own stuff. We’re told that this is because we’re now “adults.” Let me tell you this adulthood thing sucks! Most of us end up in jobs that we loathe. By the time we’re finished work for the day we are too tired to clean up after ourselves, cook for ourselves, or do extracurricular activities. Plus the fucking job barely pays us enough to cover rent let alone anything else.

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After several years of this torture, we’re expected to find a partner and bring a new unsuspecting soul into this torment to fool them.  If we choose not to do so for one reason or another, we’re looked down upon. “When are you going to have kids? They’re such a joy! You don’t know what you’re missing. They make your life complete.” Other people who have been bamboozled shame us for not procreating. We can’t afford the rent or food, but we’re expected to support another life.

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The flaws in our bodies suck too! We can live for a hundred years, but you give us a joystick or portal that’s only fully functional for about fifty. Our hardware becomes software. Another thing, Ds belong on many things such as batteries. D batteries are awesome and provide lots of power. Ds can be a grade we get on a test too! That’s not a great grade, but it tells us we need to do better. D cups are also nice on women, but what’s the deal with putting them on men? What the fuck were you thinking when you made that happen!?  Did you just smoke up one day and think You know it’d be really funny if a guy could go for a run and smack himself in the face with his own tit! That’s just wrong on so many levels please make it stop.

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What the hell were you thinking? You’re supposed to be all-knowing, but you screw up this badly? Maybe instead of taking the seventh day off, you should have spent some time revising your plan. How do you intend to address this grievous issue? I have several suggestions that could help. For starters, you could promote birth control. Parents buying a pack of condoms is far cheaper than the offspring paying rent eighteen years after mom and dad bumped uglies. You have the option of making us all independently wealthy, or everything free. Either would work nicely. It’s your choice. Also, you have the option of going back in time and fixing your obvious mistakes so that none of this bullshit happens to begin with. Your immediate attention and rectification of this problem would be appreciated. Hopefully, you will be more thoughtful and careful with your future creative endeavors. They say nothing is ever finished only abandoned. 


This Sucks Please Fix It


1 thought on “Hermit Crab Essays

  1. Ashley L. Peterson – Canada – I'm the author of four books: Psych Meds Made Simple, Making Sense of Psychiatric Diagnosis, Managing the Depression Puzzle, and A Brief History of Stigma. These are informed by my professional experience as a former pharmacist and mental health nurse, as well as my lived experience of major depressive disorder. My goal with Mental Health @ Home is to challenge mental illness stigma and provide a safe space for open dialogue to empower others to share their voices.

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