Who am I? I am a 21-year-old fellow who withdrew from all my classes this semester and left one of the biggest party schools in New York (no, it wasn’t shit-hole Albany). No I didn’t hit the lotto, nor am I too rich for school, education just isn’t my thing. As an early indicator called the S.A.T.’s told me (950), I should have just picked up a trade.
I am currently living at home in the laundry room. My 80-year-old grandma finds doing laundry at 10 is a necessity. I don’t have a car and barely passed my road test (but when you’re a boss like me, you don’t need a whip anyway). All my friends are away at school so my friend and I sit in his basement and creep away on Facebook. I’m as unemployed as it gets. I barely have enough money to keep up my drinking habits, so I have to sacrifice small necessities like eating. The highlight of my day is throwing in a lip and playing approximately 7 hours of Call of Duty. If you don’t believe that my life is better yet, YOU’RE NOT A SLOWMO. But it still gets better.
I like to curse and get extremely belligerent (like every other college guy). I probably consume over 60 Natural Lights a week, not because I like them, but because they’re cheap. I consider myself the best drunk athlete, because the only sports I play these days, I drink during. My wardrobe consists of black t shirts, cartoon character shirts, and shirts I make with catchy lines. Examples include: “I party harder than your slutty sister;” “If you ever see me out 2 nights in a row, I’ll probably be wearing the same underwear, pants and socks from the night before, because that’s usually what I wake up in when I black out;” “In college, I consider a shower on Thursday good enough for the whole weekend.”
I tend to mascara my mustache from time to time so it doesn’t look red. I like to embarrass my friends in public by drawing attention to myself. I own a pair of healies (the shoes with the wheels in the heels) that I got on my 19th birthday. Sometimes my friends say I’m not housebroken. If you were to ever ask me what I would do if I hit The Mega Millions lottery, you’d soon realize that it would be like throwing gasoline into a fire. In case you still don’t understand, I am the fucking man.
If you are a female reading this and in the New York region, I’ve probably either poked you on Facebook, or tried to hit on you in a bar. If you are a dude, I’ve probably poked your girlfriend, sister, and mother, or you tried to hit on me at a bar. I’ve been called a creep plenty of times, but I’m fine with that. One of my mottos is, “No sleep, just creep.” It is a must for me to go out and take advantage of vulnerable underage girls at the Hofstra bars (at least once a month). If a female catches me “checking her out,” I will not look away, because it calms my ADHD to concentrate on something. If we happen to make eye contact (meaning nothing on your body is worth “concentrating” on) it is a given that the next word out of my mouth will be “sweetheart.” Girls think this is funny, but I’m 95% serious about half of the things that come out of my mouth. Whatever, it works. As you can tell, I am a real catch.
My grandma cooks and cleans for me every day; it’s like I kidnapped an immigrant and confined her to doing my laundry and make me food. Every Sunday morning (around 1p.m.), my mom bitches that my room smells like a brewery, and that she’s going kick me out if I keep it up. This causes me to have a Sunday Funday so she doesn’t completely kill my buzz. I often try to avoid her as much as possible. Every once in a while, my mom leaves me her car to take my slave (grandma) shopping. I proceed to blast rap music in the car with the windows down (even in winter) just to show everybody how awesome I am, as I drive a Sonata with my grandma riding shotgun. In the store I tend to sneak a 12-pack into her wagon when she’s not looking (the only time I don’t buy Natty Lights), and obviously, Doritos.
The real reason why my life is better than yours is I can do whatever the fuck I want. I am not confined to school at the moment. I don’t have to worry about getting fired. Essentially, the most important reason why my life is better, is I don’t care what people think of me or my lifestyle. I don’t stress anymore about being accepted or getting ass (got a girlfriend). I just enjoy life. It is a different world when you can live like me. If you read this and were like “my life is so much better,” it probably is, but I’d probably think it blows.