Failing at Life (And other things to F-Up)

Title: Failing at Life (And other things to F-Up)

“If you don’t go to a decent college, you’ll fail at life,” – Well, it already sucks, how worse could it be?

“I’m going to Harvard,” – More like the parking lot.

“I want to be a doctor, or a lawyer.” - I bet you spell the word doctor with an ‘E’.

Ok so you’ve fucked off the first 3 years of high school. Now you’re almost 18, it’s senior year; time for college… what?!

That’s exactly it; what. - What you’ll get on SAT, what you want to be, what to do with your life.

You’re not expected to know these answers. Maybe have a vague idea, but full out deciding you future? Nu-uh. Anyone who claims otherwise is full of shit.

Now, before you sock the dweeb boasting how he’ll win a Noble Prize for curing AIDs, take a step back and consider your potential options.

Your grades? – Let’s say a few points below Mediocre.

Don’t fret, my dear simpleton. Instead of aiming for some ridiculous, ‘Parents need to refinance the house’, University, consider the local, community college. You don’t have to go there for four years. Just one or two, to get yourself settled, bring up your GPA, and slowly build up your independence. In fact, it’ll be easier to transfer from a community college to a big university, than graduating high school and crossing your fingers for acceptance letters.

Besides, many freshmen college students cannot handle over-the-top Universities (though you won’t hear about it in their glossy, picturesque pamphlets). It’s easy to get drawn-into the keg party scene. Staying up late, forgetting to study. Sudden freedom has it’s price. Others struggle to handle all the other vices at their disposal. Maybe in High School, you never considered popping a few pills to stay up late, or just to relax. And, who in their right mind would want to share a small, boarding on in-humane room with a total and complete stranger? Bathrooms? Eek. Suddenly your Eighties’ wallpapered half-bath seems like a luxurious paradise.

So, while you bash your heads against the wall worrying about your ACT scores, wondering if you passed the A-Levels, or any other Senior-year concern; remember, they’re no-way as important as they propaganda you into believing. Just enjoy the last year you don’t have to worry about dodging jury duty, and leave all these trivialities where they belong, shoved in the back of your head, stored behind random celebrity facts.

Stupid Friends, Smart Enemies

Title: Stupid Friends, Smart Enemies

“Why’d He Break Up With Me?” – Because you’re a slut.

“Can I Borrow Fifty Bucks?” – Burn in hell.

****They’re in your Top 8 on Myspace, getting wasted in your basement, wearing you favorite pair of jeans – AKA your closest friends.

You also hate them. Ok, we all have our annoying quirks (won’t touch the bathroom door, afraid of the dark, etc.); but when you encounter your friends faults way too often, you begin to resent them. This feeling is entirely normal, and usually will pass, but doesn’t it suck?

For example, stupid friends.

I don’t mean failing out of school stupid friends. I mean the common sense lacking stupid friends. There’s a few in every group. You learn to deal with their inability to process everyday tasks, but sometimes, it can get on one’s nerves.

Part I:

It’s 2 am and you’ve just gotten a phone call.

- the slut -

Her boyfriend of…maybe 6 weeks? has broken up with her. She’s babbling incoherent words of distress. As she cries about her permanently scared psyche, you have the urge to inform her that she was the one who cheated, lied, and ultimately planned on breaking up in the first place. The guy was just smart enough to catch on to her deception and ended things before she said the final word. You don’t tell her that, though, ‘cause, you know, that’d be siding with the enemy.

A few days later, she gets a new boyfriend (cycle repeat). She seems jealous when you have a relationship that lasts longer than 15 days. She claims she has no luck with guys, that they’re all creeps.

Would you have the courage to tell her the truth?

(I would enlighten said friend; but, honestly, watching relationships crash and burn is some sick form of voyeurism in vein of a train wreck)

Part II:

“Do these jeans make me look like an ATM machine?”

-The freeloader. -

Ok, so God may have thrown a thunderbolt down from heaven and ‘shazam!’ one-hundred & eighty dollar Badgley Mischka off-white flats called out for you; however, that does not mean one-hundred & eighty dollars needs to acquiesced from my wallet.

So you need fifteen bucks? Ok, fine. When you’re asking me for a ‘freakin mortgage, NO, my dear friend. If you want to life your life bumming off of others, join a commune for Abby Hoffman-esque ‘live for free, screw taxes’ hippies. I hear there’s a few out in San Francisco.

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I Lesson Learned: What does one thing Egypt and Sluts have in common? …Denial.

II Lesson Learned: Never lend money to friends, because they start to think it grows on trees and falls from the sky.

(Straight from Mars) Introduction

Despite my chronic ‘head in the clouds’ demeanor, I’ve realized that I give darn-solid advice. So, I decided to start a blog and expand on this talent, because, isn’t that what everyone does in the voyeuristic world of today?

Right now, I’m just going post a few rants based on real advice I give to my very-lucky contemporaries. (Seriously, I should get paid for providing them with these enlightenments)

And, if you feel like you need my ‘for realz’ advice, opinion or just want me to rant about something specific, (politely) ask in my widget or email me a TeawithMarvin@gmail.com