A Letter to David Bowie’s Crotch

 

Dear David Bowie’s Crotch,
What can I say, man? Wow. You’ve haunted me since I was five. I think you’ve kind of terrorized everyone for a long time. You’ve captured the attention of many nations and not let go. There is a remote village in Africa where they worship your likeness in a potato that a small child had dug from the Earth. The potato now sits on a makeshift shrine in the center of the village. The inhabitants look to you to converse with the rain gods when they’re going through a drought, but your potato does nothing but sit there and mock them.
Is that right?
Is it fair that you tease people with the idea that you hold magic powers within you? Is it fair that you drift through people’s dreams, standing dormant then uncoiling towards them like a violent snake? I don’t think so, man.
It’s time to let people go.
It’s time to go back to where you once belonged. I’m not really sure where that is, but, yeah, you go now.
Bye.

I guess what has concerned me all these years, is your close proximity to other humans. I mean, look at those people above. You have them mesmerized. Completely in awe of your dangling girth. You could get them to do anything and my question to you is, would you use that power for good or for evil?

Something makes me think for evil and that is why you have to leave. Now.
I’ve never trusted you, David Bowie’s Crotch, and I’m here to tell you that I’ve recently discovered my purpose on this Earth- to banish the Package Dragon to the sea.

I think my greater concern is your even closer proximity to children.
It’s not right, dude. You shouldn’t be near kids, even if you’re enclosed in spandex. You have the ability to send rays of blinding light that will mess up their eyesight and they’ll become partially, if not fully, blind by the time they’re 40. I already know, like, 12 different people whose eyesight is starting to fade and they can often only see floating shapes of camel toes in their head.

Does that make you, happy? I thought so.
I knew you were up to no good, David Bowie’s Crotch.
There was a time where you captivated me like the rest, but I know better now. I’ve learned not to look you in the eye and to not recognize your presence and I’m going to share this knowledge with the world and one day, David Bowie’s Crotch, YOU WON’T MATTER.
Do you hear me?
You will become obsolete.
And we will all be free from your tyranny of lamè and the Battle of the Bulge will end.