Think.

So my brother went to Farrell today for his last day ever to pick up his diploma, report card, and yearbook and, when he got home, he asked me if I knew where my diploma was.  I said I knew where it was and went into our room.  I dug into my drawer and pulled out a manila envelope containing my diploma, my final high school report card, and a bunch of small things from my graduation.  My brother and I took the exact same classes as seniors except for one.  I took French 4 and he took Speech, a new bullshit elective.  We immediately started comparing report cards and I thought to myself “Wow, I never want to lose this report card or anything in this envelope.” 

The first thing I saw on my report card was AP Chemistry.  I laughed when I saw those grades.  I could’ve sworn I had like a 77 average at one point but I looked and saw that I managed to keep above an 80 average all four quarters in that class thanks to the AP curve.  Man, that class was brutal.  But the teacher…well, the teacher was a whole other story.  He can only be described with one word: genius.  I didn’t learn too much chemistry but I did learn a shitload of other cool stuff like the one chemical that is common in every shampoo.  Lauryl sulfate…look it up on the bottle, it’s there.  It’s the cleaning agent that cleans your hair.  He was truly an amazing teacher.  Totally fucked up on the AP exam but I think it was worth it.  My brother and I got the same exact midterm grade; 80.  That midterm was pure torture, there was no way I got an 80 on it.  But that’s what it said on my report card so I wasn’t complaining.

Then I saw my AP Calc and AP English grades.  I didn’t do shit in calculus and I still managed to pull straight 95’s all four quarters.  How?  Everybody sucked nuts in that class so my teacher gave us a sick AP curve.  It was weird how it worked but it saved my ass.  My brother also did surprisingly well in that class.  I remember he would tell me how he would get annihilated on tests and then still end up with a 90+ average.  That, my friends, is one of the many wonders of AP classes at Monsignor Farrell High School.  AP English I remember doing God awful my first quarter.  I had an 81 average because I would walk in to class on multiple occasions and hear “Okay, take out a piece of looseleaf” and my heart would sink into my balls because I didn’t read a damn thing the night before.  There were a couple of times where I’d just wing quizzes and shed a tear as I handed in my pitiful paper.  I couldn’t cheat because I was right up in front by the teacher and the kid to my right was an idiot.  But I ended up doing good in English the rest of the year.  I got a 95 on my final paper but my brother got a 100 because my Mom wrote most of it for him.  Cool.

Economics and government?  Joke.  I got a 91 on the final though.  I had my AP US teacher as my proctor and he said “As they say in Detroit City…let’s rock and roll baby” before the test.  How could I possibly take it seriously?  But then I saw my French grade and I smiled.  My Mom was in the room and I was like “Mom, I don’t know how I was so good at French.  I don’t remember anything now.”  I had at least a 94 average every quarter in that class Senior year and I got a 97 and 92 on my midterm and final.  I really don’t know how I did it.  Oh wait…the quiz team.  I had a quiz in French class every single day and I never studied for any of them at home.  They were usually 10 vocabulary words but sometimes they were 15 or 20 and, every day at lunch, my class would gather around and frantically try to memorize all the meanings in 15 minutes.  But we all know lunch time studying wasn’t enough.  Our teacher, a kindly old man, couldn’t hear very well.  So what would be do?  We whispered the answers to each other during every quiz.  Most of the time I knew the answers but, sometimes, I didn’t.  And that’s where the quiz team came in handy.  Damn, cheating in French class…I miss it.  I remember my class actually used to get excited to cheat in French.  Now I have to take French in college as a language credit sometime or another and I’m praying to God I don’t get raped in it. 

After we finished comparing grades and cracking jokes, we put our things away and went back to whatever that we were doing.  I looked to my right and saw a whole line of yearbooks dating back from 2008.  I took my brother’s 2012 yearbook and placed it in line with the rest of the yearbooks.  That would be the last Farrell yearbook we’d ever get.  Our Senior sweater is hanging in my closet.  Unfortunately my brother had to use it and ripped one of the elbows.  When we move out, I’m taking it with me.  He obviously doesn’t know how to take care of relics.  I still have about three Farrell polos in my closet just sitting there.  My old Farrell baseball hat is by my bed all deformed and way too small for my head.  I’m never throwing that stuff away.

But my Mom came up to me about a week ago and said “Now that Dan’s done with Farrell I want you boys to clean up all your Farrell shit downstairs, we have way too many books and tests and worksheets taking up space.”  Shit, she’s right.  In the closet in my basement there’s stacks upon stacks of workbooks, notebooks, and folders packed with worksheets from my brother and I’s high schools years.  So I went down there today and I saw some stuff that I just couldn’t bring myself to throw away.  All my French stuff…no way!  I took French for 3 years with the same teacher, I must’ve done every single exercise in those workbooks.  I’m never throwing that out!  And what about my huge Math A and Math B textbooks?  Those are artifacts!  Math B went extinct after my sophomore year.  All my notebooks with countless math problems and science equations, dissecting English poems, furiously writing notes in history class or AP Chem…I found myself skimming through each and every item chuckling to myself.  Maybe I’m weird and maybe I’m a little bit of a junk collector but I came out of that closet (no pun intended) having thrown away the same amount of things as I did when I walked in—absolutely nothing.  But I might have to revisit it, push away my nostalgia, throw stuff away and realize that this shit is completely useless.

…Or is it?

I’m not that kid that goes around bad mouthing cops and screaming “Fuck the police!” like an asshole.  But I’m starting to realize why people really hate cops so much.  Of course there’s the degens that know they break rules but make it sound like it’s the cops that’re assholes when they’re drinking in public, peeing on walls, and yelling all types of profanities.  There will always be the group of idiot teenagers that’re like that.

But then there’s me.  I’m just your average guy.  I go to school, I work, I go out with my friends on the weekends.  That’s all I do.  I don’t do anything illegal.  I don’t deal drugs.  I don’t steal, get drunk in public, kick kittens, nothing!  But the cops always seem to bust my balls one way or another about something completely ridiculous.  This morning on my way to school I got a summons for using a student Metro Card.  A summons…for using a free Metro Card…don’t these cops have anything better to do with themselves than check to see if people are using the right Metro Card…?  And I’m a student too!  I got my backpack on, headphones in, leave me the fuck alone, I’m tryin to get to class!  But no.  The guy grabbed my arm so hard I thought it was going to fall off.  He asked me for ID, did a background check on me, I literally felt like I was getting arrested for crossing the border or something.  All I had was a student Metro Card!  The guy was a complete and utter dickface to me for no reason and I missed my bus so I had to take the later one and race up Grymes Hill this morning to avoid being late to my first class.

So now I have to go to court in July for some dumb ass shit because of some bald power-tripping cop.  Thank you very much you piece of shit.

Why do guys love calling girls sluts?  I mean, it’s fun sometimes but don’t profess to the world about how you think some girl’s a slut. 

Friend: Hey, do you know So & So?

You: Nah but I’m friends with her on Facebook.  I heard she’s a slut.

Chill with that!  It’s okay if you want to talk about slutty girls with your guy friends but when you go and tell the world about girls that you think are sluts you’re just ruining it for you and your fellow guy companions!  Nowadays girls are under so much pressure to act in ways that aren’t “slutty” because they know some random dude is gonna go around slandering them with rumors of herpes and ten thousand dicks.  I’d hate to be a girl these days. 

But, the truth is, everyone has their own idea of what “slutty” is.  For some girls, it doesn’t matter how many guys they do it with, it doesn’t make them a skank.  “I just like having sex, it’s a natural thing, and if doing it makes me a slut then whatever. YOLO.”  Then there’s some girls that are like “I will let you do anything to me as long as you don’t put your D in my V, that’s just slutty.”  Or occasionally you get the girls that are like “Hail Mary full of Grace, the Lord is with thee..”.

What I’m trying to say is that when you repeatedly call girls sluts, you are only encouraging other girls to become prudes.  You’re not cool for degrading them, you’re just ruining it man!  Soon everybody’s gonna be so scared of becoming a “slut” that teenage years will become a blue balls catastrophe for guys.  Soon kissing and making out will be viewed as “slutty”.  Hell, it already is viewed as “slutty” to some people!

Great!

Usually I do all my deep philosophical thinking while in the shower but today I started thinking about something that I’ve already thought about in the past. 

I realized that teenagers really don’t understand how good they have it.  Usually older people look upon younger people and say that but this is coming from a teenager himself.  It’s so awesome being young and being able to play sports, spend your parents money on stupid shit, hang out with friends in school and on the weekends doing all types of crazy shit, just enjoying life.  Life isn’t always gonna be awesome but these are our prime years.  We’re never gonna look this good.  We’re never gonna be able to hangout with our friends this much.  We’re never going to be able to live life without paying bills and doing all that depressing grown up stuff.  So why the hell are we complaining all the time? 

Now that I’m 19 and I’m in my last teen year, I’ve finally come to the full realization of my fortune.  Sure, my Mom was really protective of me up until I was about 17 and I’d always have to fight with her to go places but it got better.  It’s because of her protectiveness that made me the guy I am today.  I used to try and be all tough and talk bad about my Mom but fuck that, I’m proud of the way she raised me and I’m proud of myself for finally sticking behind what I stand for.  I’m proud of the life I’ve led and I’m proud of myself for not getting depressed or mad over stupid stuff.  I’m a big believer in “Forgive and forget” and if you can’t forget at least forgive and move on with your life.  Life isn’t about dwelling on the past and it isn’t about always thinking about the future because then we miss out on the present.  We miss out on all the small and simple things in life that make living worthwhile.  Life moves pretty fast; sometimes you just gotta stop and admire it for a second.

If you’re young and you’ve got a house, a family that loves you, and some food up in your tummy then you should be a pretty content kid.  If you’ve got friends, a part-time job that brings in some cash, an Xbox, a laptop, and maybe even a car…why the fuck are you complaining?!  When we’re kids little shit makes us miserable but, in the grand scheme of things, it shouldn’t.  Teenagers have so much to be happy about, we’re young, wild and free.  Maybe not the last two but we’re definitely young and we can have so much fun with our lives if we just stop and laugh.  Having a boyfriend or girlfriend doesn’t equal pure happiness and neither does having a million friends.  When I get a little sad about not having a girlfriend or shit like that you know what I do?  I joke around and hangout with my guy friends.  If I can’t do that then I blast music on my laptop and sing along like an idiot.  Just in case I can’t do that, I get in my car and go get some Ralph’s or hit up the deli for some sour gummy worms.  Why?  I don’t know, it makes me happy!  Plus I got that kind of metabolism where I don’t gain any weight from eating like shit so I’m gonna take advantage of that for as long as I can!

I’ll leave you with a quote from the Chiddy Bang song I’m listening to right now:

“Oh oh ohhhh ohhh, I just came to party.”

Coming from a good background and living in a nice house in a nice neighborhood, I was mostly sheltered my entire life from the rougher and dirtier parts of life.  Money was never really tight, my Mom was always home helping me and siblings out with whatever we needed, my Dad would coach my Little League team, and we’d go on vacations almost every summer.  The house was always cleaned and I always had a toy to play with.  As a child I saw bad neighborhoods in my city but I never walked around them or experienced them until the end of my sophomore year of high school when my Dad took me to work and showed me what he really did.

At first, I couldn’t understand why my Dad totally flipped out on me when he found out I was smoking cigars with a couple of friends just for the hell of it after school.  It wasn’t even a big deal.  He was like “You’re coming to work with me and I’m gonna show you what the real world is like.”  He took me to Brooklyn with him one day and showed me a side of life that I’ve never experienced before.  A life where roaches and rats in houses were normal, theft and violence was common, and drug use was no big deal.  He was so mad because he said that smoking something stupid like a cigar could lead to weed and then later to crack and harder shit.  I was astonished that my Dad would ever think I’d do that stuff but he’s seen what drugs have done to people and there was no way he was letting that happen to me.  A black man with rotten teeth came up to my Dad that day and shook his hand.  Later my Dad told me that that man was a drug dealing, drug using, wife beating murderer who just recently got out of jail.  I was in shock.  The guy looked relatively nice.  I asked my Dad how he was on such good terms with the guy and he just said “When you walk around these streets you need to walk around with a purpose.  You can’t go pretending you’re black or Hispanic because then you’ll just attract attention and get yourself in trouble.  I come to these places to do my job.  I deal with people like that guy and worse.  This is what I do.”

Every time I work in these apartments, I work fast.  I work fast because I want to get the hell out of there.  The majority of the apartments have a weird, musty smell to them.  I don’t know what the hell it is but I almost started choking in one apartment because it smelled so shitty.  All of the apartments I work in are extremely small and incredibly crowded with shit.  Some people just don’t clean and the floors are all dirty and sticky.  If my Mom was there she’d have a conniption.  I’ve yet to see a rat but I’ve seen roaches crawling over the floors.  I learned that you should never squash a roach with your foot because you could step on a female and carry it’s eggs on your shoe and into your house…that’s ghetto smarts right there.

It was obvious from the start that I never ever wanted to live in an apartment like the ones my Dad manages.  But it didn’t really fully hit me until this past Thursday when my Dad sent me to paint an entire apartment in a building on Staten Island.  I went in there and my jaw just dropped.  The apartment was absolutely wrecked.  Random shit was strewn all over the place.  There was a couch with a broken telescope on it.  A closet door was all open because a wheel was broken off.  The walls had weird stains splattered all over them and dirt and dust was accumulated where the floor met the wall.  The wallpaper where the toilet was was all peeling and gross.  The light bulb by the toilet was blown out.  There was mildew and shit in the tub.  A red cup was full of dirty used razors on the sink.  In the medicine cabinets were random pills and two spoons used to boil down pills for injection.  The kitchen was ransacked.  Random snacks were scattered throughout, the refrigerator was disgusting.  The walls were splattered with grease and the handles on the cabinet doors were mostly destroyed.  Upstairs the closet doors were all missing knobs and off their tracks.  I found a bag full of insulin syringes in the closet that weren’t used for insulin.  A pack of half empty cigarettes were on the ground, a broken stereo was on a table, void checks and paper were scattered on the ground.  In the main room there was the most shocking amount of damage.  A rug was hanging over the wall from the top floor, just chillin.  The air conditioner was gone so a nice breeze was wafting into the room.  A scooter, a hula-hoop, and a broken broom were one of the many things on the floor.  The biggest and most ridiculous damage, however, were the three ripped up floor boards in the middle of the apartment.  My Dad said that in 25 years of business he never encountered someone rip out parts of the floor.  Maybe that’s where they stored the drugs, who knows.  It was unbelievable the shit that these people did.

I learned two lessons that day: Crack is wack & people are fuckin gross.  With every tenant comes a story and this story was probably the most intense.  Initially my Dad rented that apartment to a young nurse and her son.  He saw she was making a lot of money, she seemed to have a good head on her shoulders, so he was happy he would actually have a tenant who would be good and pay their rent on time.  After a while, her drug dealing addict loser of a boyfriend moved in with his son.  So now there were four people living in a two person apartment.  With all the drugs lying around, this young nurse took all her potential and her life and threw it down the drain.  She started taking drugs and wasting away with her loser of a boyfriend.  While this was going on, the girl’s ex-husband was released from jail from charges unknown to me, he stalked her address, came to her apartment and beat the holy living shit out of the drug dealer boyfriend.  My Dad said he came with a bat and just beat him senseless until the cops came.  There was blood all over the hallways, the police came, and the guy had a cracked skull, a broken jaw, and various other injuries.  When I heard this story I was just overwhelmed with sadness and amazement at how such a successful girl could go and ruin her life with drugs and losers and also how people can just be pure disgusting animals. 

So whenever I get lazy, I just remember that I don’t want to end up living in an apartment building with a bunch of crazy losers.  Seeing this shit and hearing about it really makes me appreciate the life I have.  So many kids grow up today not even knowing their father.  It’s sad.  I remember the maintenance guy for my Dad was telling me how he was lucky because his father was actually around during his childhood and it just put into perspective how different my world is compared to people who are less fortunate than me.  Where I’m from, almost everyone I know has a father that’s around and working.  A lot of kids these days don’t have that.  So what do they do?  They turn to drugs, gangs, and violence.  You know the Crips and the Bloods?  I thought they were just gangs you see on shows like Gang Wars.  No, they’re in New York.  In one building in Brooklyn, I looked out the window and watched as a group of black guys just stood outside and just loitered all day.  The maintenance guy told me “You see that handshake?  Thats the Crip handshake.”  Sure enough, it was.  Every time a guy would walk down the street they would stop and do some weird handshake with each other.  Fuckin ridiculous.  Then there was an older guy on the street that we nicknamed Crackhead Mike.  He just sat on his chair all day and smoked one joint after another.  One time he put on his radio and started dancing in the middle of the street.  This is the life these people lead.  It’s kinda funny but, in reality, it’s fuckin sad.   I’ll tell you that much.

Remember that guy that shook my Dad’s hand that first day I visited my Dad’s buildings?  He’s dead now.  Yep.  It was either the crack that killed him or someone shot him during a drug deal, I can’t remember that fucker’s fate.  But yeah, three years later and the guy is dead.  Till this day, these trips have had a lasting impact on me.  I rarely drink or smoke.  It’s not because I’m a “pussy” it’s just because I don’t really see the point.  It’s not worth it.  Every once in a while is fine but you just gotta have a strong composure.  If you don’t, you’re fucked, just like all these crackheads that live in these apartment buildings my Dad manages.  Crack is wack.

Remember when girls had cooties?  I kinda wanna go back to that time.  All I cared about was watching Scooby Doo at 7:30 every night on Cartoon Network, playing with blocks, and collecting Yu-Gi-Oh cards.  It was great!  I was like in my own little world.  Girls weren’t a factor in my life back then.  They were just people that enjoyed playing with Barbies and asking me for pencils in class. 

But eventually, like most men in this world, I had to go and start liking them.  Ever since 5th grade I’ve been wanting to kiss girls and be with them and my wants have just increased throughout the years.  So have my problems.  There would be sometimes where I would just be talking to a girl and if she was acting bitchy or not answering, my whole world would stop.  I’d be consumed by why this girl was acting weird towards me and it’d just screw up my whole life schedule.  Why is this though?  How can girls go from contaminated creatures when we’re young to something so incredibly desirable that they cause us to say and do things we normally wouldn’t when we’re older?  It’s weird.

But what I’m really wondering about is why is it in human nature for us to perpetually desire constant company from another individual, preferably the opposite sex?  Why do we always feel like we have to be in a relationship or engage in some kind of physical relationship with someone else?  We have this notion that it’ll make us automatically happier if we’re in a relationship with someone.  Nobody takes the time to think if they’re getting into the right relationship with the right guy or girl, they just want a boyfriend or girlfriend in general.  In this generation, we are largely consumed by lust. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing but it is bad if you’re looking for a real, lasting relationship with someone.  Through experience and watching other people I’ve come to believe that the best relationships are the ones that come unexpectedly.  The girl you always talk to about other girl problems and your other life stories or the boy you spill your heart out to on lonely nights could very well turn out to be your husband or wife.  The initial attraction and flirting between a guy and a girl is like fireworks on the 4th of July.  They’re bright and fun and beautiful—but only for a short amount of time.  Physical attraction is only one component to the complex thing we call “relationships”.  Friendship comes first.

Is it bad that with every passing weekend I get more and more turned off by the girls on this island?  It’s such a small island yet the cool girls are so hard to find.  Where are they?

I just want to start off by saying I am not one to generalize things.  I’m not the guy or girl who posts statuses on Facebook saying “Everyone’s a scumbagggg” or “Honestly all boys/girls are the same, so done.” That’s not me.  I’m smart enough to realize that there are good people out there.  It’s just that in some places they’re harder to find, namely, Staten Island.  I don’t know how Staten Island got to be so infested with such nasty, conceited, boring, and immature girls but I sure as fuck want to know how.  Maybe I’m looking in the wrong places, maybe there’s a hidden group of cool girls dispersed throughout the island that I haven’t found yet but I’m not sure!  All I know is that I know a lot of girls and none of them really appeal to me anymore. 

One thing I’ve been noticing lately is that girls that used to be totally down with hooking up all of a sudden want to stop hooking up for fun and find their Prince Charmings.  They think that their flirty, bitchy attitude is going to bring along their Prince Charming when, in fact, it doesn’t.  Instead they tease guys, lead them on, don’t do anything, and then us guys say Bye Bye.  The games that girls play on this island are really amazing.  Not answering texts for no reason, randomly being clippy and weird, gossiping with their friends…I’m really getting sick and tired of it.  I’m getting too old to deal with immature shit like this, I’ve got better things to do with my life.  I think the problem is that almost every teenage girl on this island has discovered Tumblr and latched onto all the mushy love shit that comes with it.  It’s hypnotizing and appealing but largely misleading.  It just reinforces love scenes in movies and makes girls think that all this love shit is real and everything is going to be perfect.  No, it’s not.

The best is when girls think they can just do whatever they want and get away with it.  Nobody realizes the repercussions of their actions until someone actually tells them what they’re doing.  Sometimes you just gotta think before you do something:  “Would I like it if someone I cared about did this to me?”.  It makes you a better person, in my point of view, if you follow this philosophy.  I, for one, try to follow it.  Unfortunately, the majority of the girls I live around don’t abide by it.  I’m sorry but being hot or pretty doesn’t give you the right to be a bitch.  It just doesn’t.

Another thing I find annoying is how it’s a struggle just to have a good conversation with a girl and even more difficult to hang out with her.  It’s like you gotta go to a party with lots of alcohol and goons in order to hang out with a girl.  And even then you’re not really hanging out with her because she’s hanging around her friends for the majority of the night pretending you’re not there.  Even if you want to just hang out with girls that are your friends it’s a struggle.  They call you a friend and tell you how much they “missss youuuu!” on Facebook yet they won’t invite you places with people you know.  It’s unbelievable.

I guess I blame myself a little bit.  I blame the fact that I like girls—a lot.  No matter how many idiots, bitches, and weirdos I meet, I’ll still like them, I’ll still go out searching for more.  I guess I just perpetually give them the benefit of the doubt.  All the good ones are taken and all the single ones are either single for a reason, wallflowers, or just numb and turned off by the large crowd of assholes and goons on this island.

It’s a vicious cycle.

Isn’t it weird when you just look back on your life and think of all the people you used to be so close with back then and aren’t close with now?  It’s actually more terrible than weird if you ask me.  Girls come and go but it’s really the friendships with guys and even girls that have just deteriorated and withered away in these last few years that kind of make me sad.  Granted, most of this isn’t my fault.  It’s college’s fault.  In high school I had so many different friends, some older than me.  I had some really good friends that were a year or two older than me and when college came around, they were gone from my life.  Now that I’m in college it’s even worse.  The large majority of my friends are away.  They’re still my friends but they’re not around all the time like I am.  My comfort zone is gone.  It’s like I kind of have to start over with the friend making process.

I remember there were some girls that I always used to talk to just as friends.  Now I don’t have that anymore.  Do I want it?  Eh, I don’t really care.  But it’s nice to have one around, you know?  Some of these girls just disappeared from my life.  They either got weird, self-absorbed, or just distant.  It’s weird how that happens.  With guys it hasn’t been that bad.  Besides college there really was only one friend I really did lose.  We still socialize but it’s not the same and it never will be.  My only regret is not being the best role model I could be to this friend and, for that, I paid the price.  He isn’t the same guy I used to know.  He’s different, more defensive and on edge.  He claims to be content without a best friend and the help of others and he denounces his continually inflating ego.  He holds grudges and finds happiness only on some days and this makes me sad.  It is true that this is his nature and this is who he is.  But I’m just sad my peers and I were unsuccessful for the most part in steering him towards a happier, more humble demeanor.

Some will say that making a lot of friends is a waste of time and, in a way, I agree.  I’ll definitely chose 4 loyal best friends over 40 acquaintances any day.  But I like meeting new people.  Each person has their own little memory in my mind and when I’m older I can talk about all the different people I’ve met.  It also helps you weed out the good friends from the bad ones.  Always welcome in new people, you never know who you’ll find. 

Out with the old, in with the new.

Okay so the Giants won, hooray let’s all make babies.

But what I was really looking at were the commercials and half time.  And also Tom Coughlin’s fits of rage and Eli’s perpetual “I smell shit” face.

So the commercials this year were pretty bad for the most part.  They decided America needed a more serious tone, probably because unemployment is steadily rising and so are our taxes.  So they did away with most of the funny commercials.  Instead we got Clint Eastwood (a.k.a Skeletor) talking about how it’s halftime in America right now too.  What does that even mean?  The commercial was pretty good, probably cost a couple million but I don’t know.  Didn’t really do it for me.  Special effects were awesome in majority of the commercials but they didn’t really tickle my fancy, if you know what I mean.

Halftime. My first reaction…why Madonna?  Yeah her new album is coming out but she’s like…old.  And a bitch.  Two things that don’t flow well in the music industry.  But nevertheless, I personally thought she did a good job for a 52 year old bitch.  Everyone who thinks she’s trying to imitate Lady Gaga has got it all wrong because, if anything, Lady Gaga got most of her influence from Madonna.  So chill with that.  Also, the set and choreography was awesome.  I know nobody really notices that shit but you gotta give those people props.  Lot of hard work with into that.  As for the guest appearances like Nicki Minaj, Cee-Lo Green, and LMFAO, they all were unnecessary and horrendous.  I saw a few statuses on how people just wanted LMFAO to perform already and I was like …Why?  They’re two unattractive, talentless guys who act like retards for a living.  And Nicki Minaj…don’t even get me started.  Let’s just say I hope she dies a slow, painful death choking on one of her multicolored wigs.  Cee-Lo was the least horrible out of the three.  He was actually kinda funny waddlin around in his sunglasses.

  But, anyway, my Mom liked the halftime show.  I know the majority of Super Bowl watchers aren’t middle aged women but Hey…that’s pretty much the only crowd Madonna appeals to, hence why I don’t understand the reasoning for her being the halftime performer.  It didn’t make sense.

My closing remarks are as follows: I really don’t care that the Giants won.  But I swear if I start hearing Giants fans tell me “Yo, how many Super Bowls did the Jets win??  How many times did they beat the Pats bro?” there will be blood.  I’ve heard enough shit from the asshole Yankees fans who feel like it’s their job to let me know how many World Series rings the Yankees have every time I wear my Mets hat.  “Bro, did the Mets even win a World Series?  Why do you even wear their hat?” I wear their hat because I’m a real fan you fuckin idiot.  And they won 2 World Series’, thank you very much.  I really hope the Jets don’t suck next season, maybe they can humor me and make the playoffs?  God knows baseball season is gonna be a bust.

Whenever I go on facebook and see girls with like 1500+ friends, it doesn’t really phase me.  But when I see dudes that’re younger than me with thousands of friends on facebook I just wonder like…how?!  How is that even possible?  I saw one kid the other day that’s gotta be 15 that has over 3000 friends with girls all on his little prepubescent cock like “Sooo cutee :)”.  Like, what the fuck? 

I’ve had facebook since I was about 14 and I only have like 750 “friends” in almost 5 years.  Does that mean I’m not cool?  I mean, maybe it’s because I don’t have blue eyes?  Girls seem to like that.  But Hey…what am I gonna do with 3000+ friends anyway?  I don’t think you meet 3000 people in your lifetime let alone in 15 years.  Fuck em.  I like 750, I think it’s a good number.  Then again, my amount of friends fluctuate every day so it might not be 750 right now.  Seriously, one day I thought people just went on a James Fontana strike because it said 736 friends and I got kinda upset, you know?  But then I realized Zuckerberg was just fuckin with me and I felt better.

I would do almost anything to relive just one day of senior year of high school.  Just one day where I can go back to my school, rock my senior sweater, and hang out with the greatest bunch of guys I’ve ever met.  Whenever I pass that train station that I used to go on twice a day every day for four years straight, I get that feeling like I wanna go back.  I’ve been back to my school numerous times since I’ve graduated but I just feel weird.  I don’t belong there anymore, I’m not in high school anymore.

It just kinda sucks, you know?  As kids we can’t wait to be older so we can drive and get more freedoms and shit.  But now we all wish we were back in 1st grade when we read our first Dr. Seuss book or back in 8th grade when we all went to prom with our friends of the same sex.  It was simpler and better times.  But we were too young to realize how good those moments were.

High school was good but college just isn’t cutting it right now.  Maybe it’s because I don’t dorm, maybe it’s because I’m still in my first year, I don’t know.  Whatever the case may be, I’m kinda sad about that.  Growing up, that is.  Other than that, life is good. 

Life is pretty good.

About an hour ago I was chillin out naked taking a nice relaxing shower.  I don’t know about you but, for me, shower time is where all my hardcore thinking gets done.  I’m like Aristotle thinking up philosophies on life or Picasso painting some weird Spanish shit.  All the topics of my writings on tumblr are conceived while in the shower.  It’s where everything happens.

Well today while in the shower I thought to write this.  What is this?  It was this really good feeling that I got inside me while I was kind of reflecting on my day and my life thus far.  It was a feeling that I haven’t felt in a while.  This feeling was a feeling of accomplishment.  Everything that I’m doing feels right, I finally feel like I’m taking advantage of my free time and manipulating it in ways that will be beneficial to me in my future.  The laziness spell that plagued me during winter break is now broken and in it’s place rushed motivation.  The only way to keep myself motivated is to keep on moving.  Stopping is not an option.

For the first time in my life I feel like the classes I’m taking in school are actually benefiting me.  I’ve only just begun my second semester of college but I can already tell that the classes I’m taking will benefit me in more ways than I know.  I’m learning about things I like and, most importantly, I’m learning to deal with real world issues and important public figures, to write better, and to speak better.  I’m taking a class for journalism that is about the art of interviewing and my professor is amazing.  The guy has such a passion for journalism and admirable sense of motivation and drive that I immediately liked him.  I think that this class will be exactly what I need.  It’ll help me get motivated to get my writing out there, get my foot in the door, and really get some legit shit done.

For once I am seriously trying to make the most out of my education and make my parent’s money worthwhile.  Every day my Dad encourages me to get a head start on life and focus on getting experience in the real world as soon as possible.  He’s always looking out for job opportunities for me and informing me on the stuff he does at work.  Today I had off from school but I woke up at 6:30 instead and went to work with my Dad.  I worked a full day just painting and touching up an apartment.  If I was younger I would’ve declined the job offering just so I could sleep but now that I’m older, wiser, and less wealthy, I sucked it up and worked.  In the end, it was totally worth it.  I get paid a nice amount and I feel good about actually working and doing something productive with my life. Even with my tumblr page I’m trying to promote myself and make profits anyway I can.  I’m just really happy with essentially how mature I’m acting and also how organized and determined I’ve been recently. 

Let’s hope life stays this way for a while. <3

It was cool for maybe the first 4 or 5 seasons but now it’s just getting gay.  What’re we on, Season 100?  I don’t think America has any more idols to give.  Randy’s gotta stop saying “You can blow dawg!” and there needs to be a hard-ass judge like Simon on the show.  It’s unlikely either of these things will happen so I think it’s time for this show to finally kick the bucket.

Seacrest, OUT.

Did I get your attention?  I did?  Awesome, that’s exactly what I wanted. 

Whether we believe it or not, we all crave attention in some way shape or form.  You may say “I don’t give a fuck about anything” but you still want some attention.  It’s innate, we can’t help it.  We all want to be loved, to be noticed, and to be popular to a certain extent.  It’s human nature.  There’s nothing wrong with wanting attention.  Attention only becomes a bad thing when people crave too much of it.  But how much is “too much”?

I’m an 18 year old dude growing up in a time where criticisms are made frequently and without much thought.  More importantly, I am growing up in a time where people do outrageous and ridiculous things just for the sole purpose of getting attention.  They may say “I’m just expressing myself” or “I don’t care what anyone says, I’m doing this for me” but, deep down, they want some type of attention.  They want to be remembered as that person that slept in a park for a month protesting some bullshit or maybe for prancing around the neighborhood in tight short shorts for their morning jog.  I don’t care what any of these people say, they want some amount of attention.  My point?  I hate when people pretend they don’t give a shit about anything and don’t want any attention.  You don’t give a fuck?  I guarantee there’s a few fucks that you give deep down inside you.

With the outbreak of technology and social networking sites at our fingertips, attention has become the main thing people want.  There are some social network users that use it simply for expressing thoughts, posting pictures, and occasionally keeping in contact with friends and crave little to no attention.  But the majority of users take it to a whole other level.  They get a little high when they see notifications, messages, and friend requests.  Girls constantly share their pictures on Facebook to get Likes from all their girlfriends and guys they don’t talk to in real life.  Statuses that begin with “Like for a” seek attention and alleviation of boredom.  I’ll admit, I do that shit sometimes but there are just some people that post stuff like that all the time.  I don’t want two “Truth is”s two days in a row that just say “Truth isss I miss youuu!”.  No, I will not like your status for a “smash or pass” nor will I like your status for a rate that’s probably untrue.  “Need new people to talk tooo, message meee :)”.  Shut the fuck up. 

Attention whores don’t just live on the Internet.  Oh no no no.  Attention whores have been around ever since Eve ate the apple.  You qualify as an attention whore if you do or say certain things just to be different or spark drama for no reason.  Regular whores can’t keep their legs closed.  Well, attention whores can’t keep their mouths closed.  Some are weird, some are cocky, and some just wanna be loved and accepted really badly.  But whatever the case may be, nobody likes an attention whore.  It’s not really fun being around them when all they want to do is talk about themselves and, in a way, make you feel less important.  The only way to change an attention whore for the better is to tell them the truth.  Ignoring their pleas for attention sounds like a logical way to un-whore an attention whore right?  Wrong.  It won’t work because there will be five other people that’ll feed the whore the attention they crave.  It’s a valiant effort but a futile one.  The truth hurts sometimes but it’s really the only way to go.

The main reason I’m making this post is because of all the people on Facebook that make statuses criticizing the hell out of “attention whores” they see.  I put it in quotes because sometimes the people they’re criticizing don’t deserve to be criticized.  Sure, sometimes these sarcastic statuses regarding girls sharing their pictures five times are hysterical and true but, nowadays, everyone is criticized for everything.  Everything is gay, everything is fake, everything is shit.  What the fuck man?  I’m gonna quote the ancient philosopher Spongebob Squarepants right now and say “Where’s the love?”.  Posting a status saying something like “Dear girls, stop sharing your picture five times a day, nobody gives a fuck about your new picture” is hypocritical.  Funny, but hypocritical.  It’s not hypocritical in the fact that you also share your picture, it’s hypocritical in the sense that you’re seeking just as much attention as those girls are.  Don’t lie, you want those Likes.  You don’t want to be an attention whore?  Then don’t post shit like that on a social networking site.

Conclusion?  If you see something that pisses you off or annoys you on Facebook, twitter, tumblr, or any other social networking site, don’t post about it.  Talk about it with your friends at school or on the phone but don’t post it publicly.  It’s not the mature thing to do, in my opinion.  The biggest conclusion I have, however, is that not everyone is looking for attention when they post certain things to tumblr, Facebook, or twitter.  They’re just speaking their mind.  Let people post whatever the hell they want and speak whatever crap is on their mind.  It sucks when you have to stop before you post something and think about if it’s “cool” or not and if people will make fun of you for it.  Nobody wants to feel restricted like that.  I would say keep a journal if you want a place to jot down all your thoughts and shit but keeping a journal is gay, right?  That’s what society says, at least.

Keep speaking your mind.  Keep blogging.  Stand out from the crowd but don’t do it just for the sake of getting attention.  Be smart and a little considerate when it comes to posting on public networks.  Wanting attention is a normal thing.  Just follow these three words of advice:

Everything in moderation.