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Cash, Gold, Dosh, Moolas……Envy of the Droolas!

I’ve become somewhat rather very much intensely annoyingly fucked off by the way that my peer group (20-25 year olds) is OBSESSED by wealth, money, parties, drinking, love and the pursuit of whatever the fuck they think happiness is!

To their dull minds, happiness involves working at a job you hate from Monday to Friday, then letting loose on the weekend, yoooooooohoooooooo, drinking vast amounts of poison, smoking dubious boobies perhaps and just generally talking about how many Instagram photos you’ve taken in the last week.

Believe me, the ONLY interesting thing these people talk about on their nights out is this;

  1. What was that picture you put up on Instagram?
  2. Was I in that picture?
  3. How many pictures have you taken tonight?
  4. Can I have ten pounds for a beer or two?
  5. How much do you want to smash that girl right in the puss-hole (I actually have heard this said, yes)
  6.  Can you buy me a pack of cigarettes! (most infuriating of all, buy your own fags like I fucking do!)
  7. I’m so drunk, can you call a taxi?
  8. I’m so drunk I don’t think I can make it into this taxi….*falls over, passes out*

I’m done with these people, the only real friends I have to this day are the following;

  1. A womanizing soccer player with a huge dick.
  2. A less endowed soccer player, but much funnier.
  3. A drummer in a funk band, with an afro (he’s white by the way)
  4. A Serbian DJ who smokes a pack a day, alas I shall never meet him, at least not in the near future.
  5. A car mechanic with a beard.
  6. An artistic girl, very pretty, very smart, I shall make her mine one day…I hope.

So, the only conclusion I can gather from this is this;

My greatest friends are non-drinking, funny, interesting people. Something I hope to be, not to toot my own horn, but I know I’m funny, I know I’m interesting to some people, so….I hope I’ve given as much to my friends as they’ve given me……the people who weren’t interested in parties and booze and drugs and wealth and showing your superior fashion sense on the rest of your plebs! Bitch please, I wore a pair of cargo pants today, pants that could hold everything I could throw at them, and an army jacket, which, as you could imagine, holds even more!

Fashion is a con! Wear whatever enables you to carry as much as you can at any one time, because you never know when the apocalypse will come!



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October 2015
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