Coming to age in America

As we all come to age in America the simple pleasures of our past life seem to disappear. These pleasures are then replaced by a various number of monotonous tasks such as going to work, paying bills, and of course the unencumbered pressures by one’s mother to produce offspring, or mistakes

When I was growing up I clearly remember learning the phrase “you learn through your mistakes.” I, however, have begun to see these “mistakes” quite differently. As a child of the Facebook era, I am bombarded on a daily basis of pictures of “mistakes,” and the “happiness” which it brings these individuals which created them. This “happiness” has created the need for massive amount of antacids and numerous trips to a therapist.

Upon further review of those who have created these “mistakes” it only takes three kindergarteners to realize that the current gene pool has been tainted. It has been tainted by the need to glorify one’s “mistakes” on the social networks. Today’s social networks should not only be used to display one’s “mistakes” but to also educate those on what “mistakes” should not be made. As a whole our country is not learning from these “mistakes” and the immanent future seems grim.

If you begin to study those who have made these “mistakes” you will begin to recognize why this is such a problem. This morning alone I noticed the guy who used to eat super glue in high school has produced two “mistakes,” both of which will surely grow up to do the same. This not only places a burden on this countries supply of super glue but will surely affect the collective cognitive ability of our country as a whole.

 In closing, this is a plea to save our country. If you see a “producer” displaying their “mistakes” in public let them know. If you do not, your future will be doomed. A new generation of useless individuals, such as the cast of Glee, or the entire state of Alabama will surely destroy our way of life as we know it.

A Modern Day Spanish Inquisition

Throughout my wonderful collegiate career I learned many of useless things; the co-sign of a green trash can in the quad is not something that I have used on a daily basis. I did however acquire a skill which has helped me to succeed and that is the ability to adapt.  In my many semester hours of useless classes, such as Business Calculus, Sociology of Marriage and Family(neither of which really exist), and Woman and Gender Studies, I have acquired the ability to morph my attributes to match those in my current surroundings. The most recent attribute, which I had to dig out from under painful memories of the awkwardness that is called middle school, is the ability to speak Spanish.

The Spanish language is a complex language of letters and sounds that I can really understand unless under the influence or it is being spoken by the voluptuous women on Univision. In recent days I was spacing out in a random meeting about something which I should have paid attention to, but of course I had other things on my mind. Apparently during the course of this meeting I had acknowledged the fact that I had become fluent in Spanish, when in fact my knowledge of the Spanish language is confined to one simple phrase.

It was decided during this meeting that I would be one of the four representatives to a delegation which was visiting from somewhere in South America, I am still quite perplexed by this situation and do not really know the whole story. As we met with the delegation, the Spanish language was flying around like a pack of seagulls, I had no idea what was being said or agree up. During the awkward moment when I realized that questions were being directed towards me, I panicked. The only phrase my mush mouth could utter was “sus pantalonas es muy grande y pene es muy pequino.” Definition: Their pants are very large and their penis is very small. The room fell silent.

I have yet to return to the office since this incident, I been banished to the land of guidos and fist pumps, New Jersey. I am currently scheduled to return on Monday and the end of this so called career may be near the end, or I might just be the best thing on two legs since the hype man from the Kottonmouth Kings. The future is uncertain, but I have learned one thing, the difficulty of the Spanish language far surpasses that of any Sudoku puzzle.

The Addiction

Over the past several weeks my life has hit a downward spiral, with my current mental state close to that of Jack Nicholson at the end of The Shinning or that of Jeff Goldblum on a normal Sunday afternoon. The decline began several weeks ago with several life changing moments that will scar me for the rest of my life.The most recent of these occurrences shocked me greater than any of the previous. This is the story of how I have lost my mind, my soul, and my pride. This is the story of my addiction.

It all started several weeks ago when my own flesh and blood, my parents decided that I was not worthy enough to spend Thanksgiving with them. I was alone, I felt like Macaulay Culkin in his greatest role, Richie Rich. I was an orphan, a vagrant, an outcast. I needed to fill the void left by my so called family and friends. I turned to the most addictive substance known to man, I became addicted to YouTube.

Like any relationship, the beginning was glorious, and I was filled with foreign emotions. Videos of  precious cats, adorable monkeys, and ingenious pranks on drunken roommates fueled the passion. I belonged somewhere, someone actually wanted me to be around, I was deeply in love. A love that I have never experienced and words will never be able to describe, but as soon as it had arrived, it all disappeared.

The other night, I was all alone in my hotel room, like any other night. I was preparing myself for my next love affair with YouTube. The day before YouTube and I hit a snag in our relationship and the spark had begun to go out, we had to try something new. I had several ideas but the final destination was the downfall of the relationship. This destination is not one of the most proud moments of my life but I sat there, in the cold hotel room, mouth open and dry, my eyes were glazed over. I had become infatuated with a YouTube video of a person playing Justin Bieber on the clarinet. 

I don’t exactly remember how the night ended, but the next morning I awoke in shame, without any recollection of the previous nights events. I knew that I hurt someone that night, but whom. The haze from the past several weeks has imprinted itself onto the upper cortex on what is left of my mushy brain. I may never know exactly how the night ended but I do know one thing, my world will never be the same.