Clash Daily contributor
Dear Government/President Obama,
I’m writing you this letter because I want a new guitar. I have a lot of guitars, but recently I saw this really awesome Telecaster and I can’t afford it so I think you should make it available to me through my health insurance. I’m sorry if that confuses you; please allow me to explain:
My mental health is wavering and my happiness is at an all time low ever since I was told I have to wake up before noon. It’s been a downhill slide since. The only thing that seems to help is when I play my guitars, but…well…I can play my old guitars but they are old and not new, and therefore are boring and barely keep my attention, let alone boost my self-esteem.
As my mental health is not my fault (I was forced to listen to Led Zeppelin and INXS as a child and once a bully pushed me into a CD stand that was full of rock and roll music) someone should take care of my needs, and at this time my need is a new guitar. Because this directly affects my emotional well-being, I expect a change in the healthcare laws so that my demand can be accommodated whenever I start to feel anything less than perfect bliss.
I would like the option to choose the guitar, too, because I don’t want one that I already have or one that isn’t as helpful to my condition—the price tag on the guitar will be directly tied to how well I get after receiving it. So, if I am to be happy I need something really good. Just make the insurance companies cover the cost, okay? Or maybe start your own insurance company and then you can pay for it.
Now, before you tell me that I should buy my own guitar I want to remind you that it’s not my fault that I’m super-depressed and clinically incapable of being happy on my own, and that the only cure is a new guitar (or possibly more cowbell); therefore you should get it for me. I realize there are literally a thousand other ways I could improve my emotional condition but I want a guitar and I want it now. Without a new guitar I probably will not ever be well enough to complain about something else, like how it’s not fair that I’m only 5’8″ and should therefore be entitled to a free speedboat (email to follow this one).
I don’t mean to threaten, but I will have a team of lawyers and a petition with a hundred-thousand signatures on your desk by next week if you don’t do what I demand. Likewise there will be rallies and riots across the nation…you know, in the name of helping the unfortunate. (Plus, my mom once dated a Native American so…yeah, do what is right, okay?)
Also, I realize that you’re busy (chilling with celebs, watching movies, laughing at Border Patrol and golfing and stuff) but I’d really appreciate it if you’d change the name of the Miami Heat to something way less offensive, as there are literally dozens of us that can’t eat spicy food unless we want uncomfortable gas pain as a result. Consider this a pre-action demand.
If you need to reach me you can text me on my brand new Galaxy s5, which cost me a fortune but was totally worth it because of all the apps and the sweet, sweet camera features. Either that or come find me at my place of employment—Mondays, Thursdays and Sundays from 1-5pm at the coffee shop. I’d work more hours but it’s bad for my self-esteem to have to do things I don’t want to do, like work hard or not stay up until 2am playing Call of Duty. Which reminds me; please find the time to put a PS4 in the box with the guitar so I have more to do that – it can also help my emotional issues.
I know I didn’t vote for you—I don’t vote without promise of financial incentive—but I should have (and will next time) because you guaranteed me/everyone a lot of outlandish things and now I’m here to collect. I don’t really care who pays for my needs as long as it’s not me, because it’s not fair to ask that of me as I’m too sad to spend money on things I’d rather get for free.
P.S. I’m thinking about changing my name to “Thrash Tomahawk” to represent all the bad things happening in the world that no one cares about except people like me. Please handle that for me or expect a letter from an attorney I can’t afford but will retain at your expense.
P.P.S. Please put some condoms in the box too. I shouldn’t have to pay for my own contraception needs but my self-esteem depends on promiscuity.
P.P.P.S. If anyone actually reads this and takes offense, shame on them.
Matt Daniels is a proud husband and father from Salt Lake City, who when not writing about politics or social issues spends his time writing comedic articles for various publications under the moniker Gary the Unicorn. Matt is also an accomplished musician, rabid Utah Jazz fan and supporter of the arts.