Welcome to my life, where Nothing Is As It Seems, and everything is Clear-Cut And Obvious.

Passports, please. Ah, Miss, I see you have been to the land of “Let’s Break My Fancy New Phone On Purpose So I Can Get The Newest Model!” I’m dreadfully sorry, but our immigration quota for the unimaginably shallow has been over strung. Buh-bye! Oh! Hey! You there! Yes, you! Could I double-check your birth certificate? Ah, thank you. Oh? Is this accurate? Were you really born in a swath of darkness with the lust for power strong in your wand hand? My, my. I would love to have a personal chat with you, sometime. Perhaps over dinner? I cook a mean bat broth.

Now, are you all comfortable? Settled in just fine? Excellent. We can now begin our tour.

First, however, I would like to introduce to you important matters of important safety. There are seatbelts on every seat. Unfortunately, even if you wanted to wear one, they are all broken, and we have no money available to fix them. And anyway, even if we did have extra money, you can guarantee it wouldn’t be put toward something as annoying as seatbelts. Secondly, the exits on this rusty, vehicular contraption are, in fact, non-existent. By purchasing your way through my borders, you have signed your agreement in metaphysical blood to remain with me until my rant is over. Finally, I am in no way responsible for any losses, damages, or true insanities that may develop throughout the course of this tour. Thank you for listening to this boring spiel.

Now, on to the fun! On your left you will find my vat of frustrations. Look at it bubble and hiss… Please be careful, it’s quite toxic. Oh my, you’re right! It does look dangerously near to overflowing. I think it would be prudent to mention this to someone, don’t you think? I’m sure there’s an easy fix. Snapping at people who have done nothing to deserve it always seems to help some. Oh, but that always overloads the guilt meter…Ah, well. We’ll figure it out. In the meantime, please strap your hardhats on tightly.

On your right you will find the royal herd of Responsibilities. Yes, they are quite noisy, aren’t they? If I ignore them, they tend to get even more obnoxiously loud. Oh…how I would love to pour my vat of noxious frustrations on those silly, little heads…But I would hate to come across a band of mutated Responsibilities on a dark road! Yipes!

Coming up ahead will be the Tunnel of New Experiences. Rather dark and scary, isn’t it? Yes, I try not to take this tunnel too often. I have paths that are more user-friendly, such as the Cave of Hibernation, the Museum of Journal Entries, and that button labeled ‘ Push It All Away To Deal With Later.’ For some reason, that never works out as well as originally planned.

Oh! Look, dear guests! Here come Friends! Parents, stop up the ears of your children using the complimentary earplugs found in the compartment behind the seat in front of you. We are not responsible for any unplanned additions to their vocabulary, nor will we apologize for destroying innocence. For any of you adventurous souls, please make a note of the party this Saturday evening. It will start at eight and will end…at the curfew your parental units have set up with the sole purpose of destroying your life. We hope to see you there!

Please hang on tight! We are not going over the Rocky Bridge. Each bump you feel jarring your puffy arse is one difficulty life has forced me to deal with. Those massive black rocks you see are deaths. If you look closely, you can see small spots of glitter surrounding them. Those are remnants of broken glass, where I have crashed in the past. Those were usually accompanied by group sob-fests, tearful lectures, or painful anecdotes. Not very fun. The smaller, sharper bumps are the speed bumps of life that have left me something useful. A life lesson, if you will. Those little stabs of pain shooting up your spine have made me who I am today. Deal with it.

Ahhhh. I’m glad that part of the tour is over. Much too uncomfortable. Rather awkward, too. I refuse to complain about it, though, and I suggest you learn to do the same. I am downright spoiled when compared to others, and I know it. My life has been easy, for what it could have been. Stop complaining about your sore backside and be glad you chose my tour, instead of someone else’s.


(*Note: I'm not done with this, yet. As I think of new "exhibits," I'll add them. I posted this now because, to be completely frank, I am freaking proud of this. Thanks for reading!)