Where's Waldo?

Whatever happened to where’s Waldo? Did people just stop caring about his status of location? Is he still lost and wandering about, waiting for the day when someone will find him? Could you be the one to point out his red cap and candy cane shirt? His glasses reflecting the glow from your intense gaze as you scan over crowds of faceless, nameless wanderers, each possibly more lost than Waldo himself? And why is Waldo so effing important? What about the old man standing next to him, or the small child holding a balloon? Are they so insignificant? What is our purpose here? How come the frosting on pop tarts doesn’t melt when you toast them? Will Joan Rivers ever die? How many times do I need to eat at Del Taco before I realize I could have bought house with that I’ve spent there this year?
These are the thoughts that go through my mind when I’ve had too many fruit snacks, not enough exercise, and just the right amount of sleep. What can I say? It is great being me. At least I’m not lost and ugly, like Waldo.