O! Would that I could once again be the man I fancied myself a mere moon ago, but such is it that it appears this will not be the case. Dearest reader, surely you must wonder what would cause me to say such a thing, and surely you must be certain that the inevitability of my failure has been brought about by marvelous derring-do with a decidedly inauspicious finale, perhaps combined with Slap-Stick humour worthy of the great Charles Chaplin, perhaps the finest comic actor working in the moving-picture-film industry today. Reflecting on how it has come to pass that I am penning my memoirs at this tender age leaves me in a Quandary for which no conclusion is nigh, but suffice it to say that I will henceforth Chronicle what I believe to be the most pertinent minutiae of my travels. I fully believe my writings will shape the next generation of intellectual discourse in these States United, and will in due time be required reading in schools both Public and Private as I ascend through the ranks of great American lore. (The day cannot come soon enough when my stature exceeds that of that lout Paul Bunyan; what has he ever done?)

Back in a more innocent day when morale was high as the day is long, it was mutually agreed upon by myself and my legal guardian Deion “Prime Time” Sanders that the time had come for me to explore this vast, wondrous Mother Earth. Armed with nothing but my caretaker’s superb coverage and kick-return skills, I went off on my merry way. Naturally, the wonders awaiting me were rather grandiose in scope, or this budding masterwork may not have had the impetus for its beginnings.

The first encounter that I gather may catch the layman’s eye came about when I happened upon a middle-aged Irish gentleman with dark, flowing locks. Now, reader, before asserting that mentioning such an encounter will surely prove superfluous, keep in mind the man’s words. Before I could even introduce myself, as I was rightfully wont to do, this mysterious man was already peering pensively through his custom sunglasses, repeating his soulful refrain: “To-niiiiiiiiiight…we can be as one to-niiiiiiiiiiight.” Were I to truly convey the power contained in these words, I fear that the emotional investment made by you, kind proletarian, would simply consume you beyond any point of coherence; thus, I will conclude for now on a much lighter note.

I mentioned to this dark-clad gentleman that I am the adopted son of a foot-ball great, a fact which seemed to intrigue him, until I realized he had never even HEARD of him! Ha ha! What tomfoolery, you must surely think! Well, it gets yet better! Apparently this misguided lad thought foot-ball was played on a field of this general persuasion! Oh ho, have you ever heard of such nonsense?

Oh, certainly such trying times require their lighter moments, one of which I have generously just shared with you. However, now I must depart for the eve, only to return at a yet-unspecified later time, Documenting more of my fantastical journey. I bid thee a fond farewell until next we engage in the age-old pursuit of glorious Learning.

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