Risk, as made clear by Wexley

It's Friday night. I am sitting here, alone, in my newly cleaned room that I share with my sister (who said community service doesn't rehabilitate delinquent younger siblings?) and I am eating chicken nuggets for dinner. I am watching Iron Man and am completely exhausted. I am 23 years old. If you cannot decide what's more pathetic, I will give you the answer:

It's the fact that I think RDJ is hot and that you now agree.

However, let the class open their books to the chapter about recurrent economic trends. Please save annoying Facebook statuses (stat-i?) about finals. I don't care. And the more I think about I really don't care so much for government wish-wash and all the technical stuff so I would like to sum it up for you as quickly as possible.

In my last year and a half of college, all of which was my senior year, I was aware of the frantic lament of the economy. Of course my main source of news on the American job market came from the stat-i  (it just sounds cooler, okay?) of friends and that kid everyone thought was dead after middle school until, HALLELUJAH! a friend request proves that zombies do exist. They all typically spoke of failed but elusive interviews. Many also obsessed over their choice of such a useless degree, or the choice of college in general. "Not me," I declared. It'll all be cool by the time I'm out there maaaaan, I thought. Cue questionable smoke and some Grateful Dead. Turns out I thought stupid amounts of wrong.

I never considered the literal meaning of the words 'unemployed' or 'jobless.' What's worse is the word 'unemployable,' but that's not a realization the last fragments of my youthful eagerness is willing to even begin to contemplate. I never thought any of them could be my reality but they are. And now, as I snack on the meaty tail of a delicious T-Rex I've named Wexley, a sentence forms in my brain. My face is contorting with the same "what the fuck, seriously?" expression I assume every time I see there is going to be another season  of American Idol as I realize: I have been unemployed/jobless for six months and counting.

That's my current reality. That, and I am out of ketchup. I've applied everywhere and anywhere wanted signs appear. Nothing pans out, but don't get me wrong. I am not complaining. I humble myself by continually keeping track of the times. Literally, the Times and specifically that world: Africa section. If ever you need to shut yourself up from all the whining, head back to the Motherland.

I believe that this time shall pass. I think that the government needs to understand that they are selfish assholes because no one cares what they do- people will be people and live their lives BUT current economic climate is now fucking with my money. NO ONE fucks with my money. By now I am hoping people assume I look like Tony Montana. I am clear that whatever is going on, despite "it's on the the up" chatter, needs to do some meth and get higher. It's just weird. Like, I never understood the game of Risk but I imagine politics is exactly like that. Americans are gathered around the board. They don't understand so they say, "this shit is stupid," and the only ones who stay around and act like they know what the hell they are doing are the dorky kids. Yeah, I'm one of the cool kids but eventually those "asthmatic" kids keep playing, making shit up as they go, even throw in a Magic card once in a while and that should suffice them just fine. Like District 9, they multiply and that's how government and politics and economy and Donald Trump are born.

So to all of my fellow unemployed brothers and sisters, go back to the Motherland and stay strong! I know I'll keep looking for the wanted signs and so should you. It can always get worse but thankfully we do live in a country where shit is pretty legit and cushy.Thanks, Magic cards!! Just stay focused and market the shit out of your Defense against the French Arts degree. The horse and buggies of entry-level positions are a-comin'. Mind you, avoid all those clubs full of "gentleman" along the highway. What they want is not good. I've done the legwork. But, ya know, "fool me thrice," and all that jazz...

The reality of today's youth... R3AL RAP!

They are a growing epidemic among the American public. They have infected your everyday life but you may not notice them right away. They seem normal at first glance at your local mall, Starbucks, and/or movie theater. It is even said that within the next few years, they will have replaced Hipsters in terms overall wastes of space. That's right, they are the average teenager. They may seem innocent, but take a second look and you might lose a small bit of yourself... specifically your lunch and soul.


I started my sociological study after countless hours of wishing an aneurysm upon myself after listening to my fourteen-year-old sister's asinine phone conversations. Sure, if I am bored at work or my boyfriend and I want a hardy laugh then we will scour her Facebook page for the drama that only high school freshman can provide but this was the kicker. And I quote, "I wonder if there was a tsunami here.... like, would my mom keep paying my cell phone bill?"


I felt my lip twitch and took the cigar slowly out of my mouth. The camera zoomed in on my face as I slowly uttered in helpless and disgusted astonishment, "Oh my God."


I weep. I weep specifically the future of my sanity. These kids are damn crazy! Forget the fact that yes, I was a boy-band-loving, jean-and-hoodie-wearing, reckless-driving, drunk-on-colleges-I-didn't-even-apply-to-tours-teenager a mere five years ago. This is different. Times have changed and the world has gone crazy... er.


Young boys wear jeans as tight as Barbara Bush's smile . Teen moms are getting paid to punch their fat boyfriends in face on television and not watch their kid. And my sister? Well she is on the path of the most absurd. Here are a few clips from her and her friends' Facebook pages:

• AYEO I NEED SOME TALENT FOR DIS LANCASTER GOT TALENT JWNT TO WIN $500 I NEED 4 PPLZ DAHT CAN DANCE REALLY GOOD REAL RAP !!! HMU ON DAH INBOX IF YU DWN !!
• Yus were tryna get mhe to say sumfin dum but ik it was yus the whole tym Dats y I was lyk ik who it is bcc they txted the same way yus do

• I'm his girl to the fullest♥ If he's shootin up the place, I'm bringing the bullets (;

Now correct me if I am wrong, bt ah thnik iht be takin WAY mo' effort to tlk lyk dis, yo, REAL RAPP. It also takes a lot more effort to even read that so I thank you for the 2,500 brain cells you just wasted. I also hope this is the point in this post where everyone is now up in arms about all the huge budget cuts in education but I don't have the energy it takes to talk about that bullshit right now.

Last night, my sister searched for her iPod touch among the piles of trash in her room for two hours all the while on the phone with one or five of her friends whining, "This cannot be happening to me right now..." No, no it most definitely is. What cannot be happening right now is the population of a million kids just like her thriving as dumbasses who will go on reality shows like "Pimp Mah Spaceship" or "Super Sweet 16 and Pregnant Pact."

So this is what I am really trying to say: Kids- stop fucking up the English language and listening to Nicki Minaj, or whatever that bitch's name is. Schools- stop giving a million and one conflicting "measuring" tests and actually teach. Not in "blocks" and not periodically. Teach them until they sound like Stephen fucking Hawking, computer voice and all. Parents- care more, DICKS! And to the older siblings who never remembered acting that way so long ago, or such a dismal present- stay strong because I imagine Justin Bieber has a younger brother who is just going to piss him off one day... wait, I'm sorry that just made me happy.  

 

Other than that,  I mean, I'm lyk speechless. And that is REAL RAP, yo. Real rap, indeed.

If Charlie Sheen is cool, then I'm Mel Gibson's homosexual Jewish cousin Kanye.

So I'm partying in a movie theater on New Year's Eve. Why in a movie theater, you ask? It was the best resort. I would say 'last' but that just undermines my swag and besides that no place is bad if there are friends there. Can you say you've ever done such a thing? Jealouuusss. Anyhoo, I'm watching for sharp edges as I whip my hair back and forth and I realize something as actively channel Miss Smith: I am completely sober.

No, I'm no kind of addict unless you count a 15-year old obsession of the boy band 98 degrees and an ongoing ritual to watch a good episode of Intervention while I drink heavily with my best college friends. And just in case you're wondering, good episodes consist of someone freebasing meth bought with money from their immobile grandmother. I am also addicted to run-on sentences.

Anyway, I am completely sober because I am a good friend.I decided to DD with the hope that I get to tell everyone of their bad decisions the next morning and act high and mighty. You know you do it too, Judgey McJudgerfuck.

So as my friend, Erica* (the name has been changed because she is the shit) cradled her bottle of devil's piss, we had this out of body experience together. We had come to a consensus before that 2010 sucked and as I looked into her unfocused, glassy eyes that moment happened; We knew immediately that 2011 was going to be incredibly different. Better different, to be exact.

That next morning Erica texted me to tell me she didn't throw up. I texted back saying it was indeed noon and my mom was already finished with the traditional pork and sauerkraut AND it was actually delicious. With these two epic wins of the year, we coined the phrase TwoThousandAndWinnin'.

Don't act like you're not impressed. Two weeks fresh out of college and I was already putting my marketing degree to good use. TwoThousandAndWinnin' was solidified at least once a day. Sale at the liquor store: Winnin'. A good episode of Jersey Shore: Winnin'. A day where I didn't get stuck behind a school bus or horse-n-buggy on the way to my internship as I went down on a bagel: WINNIN'. And like all good Americans, we forgot about our little fad a few weeks later. Yes, it still would resurface once in a while but for the most part it's just a clever memory... until now.

Now I am all about a good celeb freak out. I like a good offensive rant with my cheerios in the morning. When I heard about this crown jewel though, I was livid. I felt like something had been stolen from me. I thought these things were always like time bombs but so you wouldn't be surprised when they actually did happen. This brought me a whole new element of surprise, though. This motherfucker STOLE a rant... and that is the worst kind of steal-sies.

Just to be clear though,  I want to say something. Fuck off. Fuck off and I salute you, Charlie Sheen. Not only did you re-coin a coined phrase but you are also taking millions of Americans along on your tiger blood acid trip... and that's kind of dope so yeah, save me a seat on that bus. I have a feeling it's already on it's way out, though.

So sorry, Charlie. It's on to the next. And to further conclude this topic, I do believe that this year is still better than the last; Rebecca Black will be the next coked-up teen queen who will steal a car and flick off a nun... on Friday and when that happens I will have been right and you'll think to yourself one simple thing: WINNIN'!

You're welcome. Now forget about it.