If you were in middle school in the late 90's and grew up in chat rooms then you had no problem interpretting that as that I am a 23 year old male living in Chicago and yes I do have a picture I can send you. However, now that I have gone through the stringent Marketing curriculum at IU I will more than likely photoshop Taylor Laughtner's abs and Peter North's cock to make myself some sort of superhuman, because really that's all I'm missing. Well that, ambition, the ability to grow facial hair and Tony Stark's bank accounts. Maybe I'll just get bitten by a random spider, play in a puddle of toxic waste and get struck by a meteor...but just my luck I wouldn't turn into Spiderman, the shapeshifting Captain America...I would probably end up looking like the elephant man, dying 3 weeks later to know fanfare or Facebook memorial groups.
I guess I'm really nerding out today talking about comic book super powers and how I used to prey on unsuspecting Lolitas in chatrooms posing as a 16 year old JV football player when I hadn't even sprouted armpit hair...(check that I still hadn't sprouted armpit hair when I was a 16 year old JV football player, but you get my point.) It's just that sometimes life is so average, so you look for escape in your dreams...so when you wake up after conquering a dark wizard, slaying a three-headed dragon and saving the princess your reward is to go to work. FUCK THAT. Do you think Mario had to go pull some shit out of some clogged plipes afetr he saved peach? He may have done some work on her plumbing but he definitely didn't go to work.
How can people be satisfied with normal. You go to college, you meet someone, you move in together, you get married, you have kids, you sacrifice all of your material items, dreams and happiness for those kids, they treat you like shit and you die. Why can't it be more like you go to college, you get a shitty job that makes just enought money for your mdma filled weekends, obnoxious bar tabs, and just enough cash left over to go dutch on that rando's plan B pill as you stop at CVS on the way to dropping her off...but then you buy gummy worms and make her pay for the whole thing...your calling her bluff that she will let her vagina go into ruin over 10 bucks that you won't give her.
Obviously I exagerate, but if you aren't going to a college night at Joe's on Weed or you can't muscle up the fortitude to check out karaoke night at Kincaid's on a Wednesday, move to the suburbs and unfriend me on Facebook because you and I are done. The real world is very much like the lyrics to Semi-Charmed Life, you don't know what they really mean until you get to college, and then you are like...holy shit this is all about crystal meth and escaping from reality...I don't get it...but then you kind of have that "Aha" moment. (Did that make sense or was that a shameless plug of my favorite song?)
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