Is it normal she sent me away?

I've been sent away, and it's a doozy, but for now, I just want you to know that I expect that things will go well for me - I suspect that I may even be regarded as royalty by my new acquaintances.

I was raised in the western part of the City of Brotherly Love, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania's largest city. I spent most of the days of my youth on the playground, doing not much else but recreation and avoiding school while working on my basketball skills. Some folks started causing problems for the residents of my neighborhood, and after finding it necessary to defend my honor from them in an act of righteous self-defense, my mother became distraught and elected to send me to live with my relatives in Bel Air, Los Angeles.

I rode first class to Bel Air, whereupon I consumed orange juice out of a glass traditionally reserved for champagne. The ostentatiousness of such an undertaking left me with something resembling trepidation for the newfound home, as I was forced to consider that my new housemates might be put off by my hip and working class ways. I resolved to soldier on, though, and it wasn't long until I found myself whistling for a cab with dice hanging from the mirror.

I eventually pulled up to the house where I expected to meet my aunt and uncle, whereupon I was induced to tell the driver that I would be nearby to exam his odor at some unspecified time in the future. I surveyed the vast reach of my domain, and made way for what I now regard as my throne room.

Is It Normal?
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