Rites of Passage


Travel the world. Speak foreign tongues and you have a blog.

Maybe a year lease on an apartment.

Go to work and see the children falling over the cliff like lemmings. You can't save them all.

(Some you help jump off.)

Blow up beds, $800 cars, and non-committal love.

War


and


debt.


The religion you grew up with explains your sexual inadequacies.

Your mother taught you respect for fashion accessories.



Your father taught you the value of the dollar.

(He passes the phone to your mother if you cry.)



"Grow up," they say.



Catch the brass ring.



Plastics is the future.



Hello, my name is...

"Hi ________. It's nice to meet you. What do you do?"



(Open briefcase.)



I sell soap.