Millennials these days make me sick. They're nothing but a generation of sheltered, entitled babies raised on PC culture and sissy-feely schools. Guess what, SJW crybabies: when I was your age I only had one "safe space" – an enchanted realm of elves outside of our known universe that I was unwittingly teleported into by a magical library book. And you wouldn't have lasted a DAY there.

Back in a little time called the 20th century, when a dusty old book transported me to a little place called Tir'Vali'El, the Elf Realm, I started out with nothing but the magic amulet around my neck and the Pegasus companion who gave it to me, and if I wanted a handout, tough shit!

Nobody was going to give me a participation trophy for NOT saving the elves' village from the Gargoyle King. He wasn't going to shut off his giant machine that turned rainbows into gloom clouds because it "offended" me.

Like everyone in my generation, I had to pick myself up by the bootstraps, find a magic sword in a waterfall and throw it at him, WHILE he rode his crystal bee! And then I got ONE quick parade and then I was OUT OF THERE.

These days everyone's a special little snowflake, everyone's opinion matters, nobody's ever wrong. When I was finally returned to my own world (which they called "The Realm of Men" by the way, SORRY PC POLICE) how many people do you think believed ME?

Go on, guess. I'll wait. I'll hang out right here while you formulate a big fat guess as to how many people believed I had been whisked away to a beautiful enchanted world where I made friends with elves and became their prophesied boy-champion when I learned to believe in myself and then I kissed an elf queen! If you guessed anyone other than the kindly librarian who warned me about the book, WISE UP.

It's time for you pink-haired, snapchatting, twerk-phone, feeling-diaper millennial babies to wake up to cold hard reality – like I did, in the hospital, when they told me a book had fallen on my head and knocked me out at the library and I'd been asleep for a day: Life is tough, gargoyles are strong, books are heavy, and amulets aren't actually magic.

The real magic was in you all along, and if your Pegasuses ever had the BALLS to let you learn that the way mine did, this country might not be in the crapper!

Oh, and sorry if this "triggers" you, but a snail taught me how to dance! DEAL WITH IT.