An Explorer No More

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So here I am, twelve years old, with no idea what to do with myself. I've been off TV for years now, and I've got to admit, this outside world is so confusing. I mean, who knew that you didn't need to start off every day with a theme song? That's how my friend and I always did it. Speaking of my friend, I miss my old childhood buddy, even if he was an overenthusiastic monkey fond of red rubber footwear. And I always thought that if you wanted to go somewhere, you just pulled out your handy-dandy singing map and it would tell you, in three clear, easy steps, how you got there. Well, let me tell you, none of the maps I've tried work like that, and none of them sing. It's just not fair. While I'm on the the topic, let me inform you that NOTHING in this world actually sings. I bought a purple backpack at Walmart last week and sat in front of it for two hours straight, but it neither displayed all its contents in a neat circle in the foreground nor sang its little backpack song. I was disappointed to say the least, but if you think about it, there are perks to the real world. Like, for instance, no sneaky, bandanna-wearing fox with a cunning eye and a desire to swipe your stuff. At least I don't have to watch out for him anymore. Sadly, my lackluster, selective Spanish abilities haven't carried me far, and as for jobs, I have little options. Hey, wait a second! Maybe I can still do this! Hey, can you say vamonos? Say vamonos!





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