#31 I’ve Got A $20 Bill That Says…I Better Spend It Frugally Because Without A College Degree I’m Gonna Have A Hard Time Finding A Job And Making Money

#31 Mix Tape by Brand New

I love this song a lot, and I already know that one of my biggest regrets of this countdown is that it wasn’t able to make it into the top 30. I know it seems like a simple solution, just place another song in this spot and then save this one for the next spot, but I can’t do that. I’d just have the same regrets for that song then. There are some regrets you just can’t avoid. I’m not sure that’s a great life lesson, but it does deserve some further delving into.

It’s definitely true that people can see regrets coming. I regret dropping out of community college (although dropping out due to failing) rather than sticking it out a little longer and possibly dropping out once I made it to a University. This sounds confusing, because why would I care when I drop out, whether it be in community college or a university?

This may sound like a joke, but there’s something I like about being a college dropout (if there are any kids reading this that was a complete joke and being a college dropout sucks and you should totally aim to graduate from college…but only in a field of your liking). But there’s also something I really hate about having to clarify that I’m not necessarily a college dropout, but rather a community college dropout. There is a difference.

I’m not saying people who go to a community college are lesser than people at universities in any way…other than every way. I’m kidding. In my community college experience I’ve had multiple teachers who also taught at universities, not just in the past and they were somehow demoted to community colleges, but they were currently teaching at both a community college and a university. In general I would probably assume that you’ll get better teachers going to a university, but I don’t think it’s as big of a gap as most people would assume. Also in community college you have smaller class sizes, so a student actually gets more one on one time with a teacher, should they choose to pursue it. There’s no other point to this paragraph other than to say that from what I’ve gathered, when taking basic classes there isn’t a huge downgrade from a university to a community college, so anybody in a community college, or who is going to attend a community college, don’t feel ashamed about it, or like you’re getting gypped – I had originally spelled that “jipped”, product of my community college education – out of an education. I can feel bad about being a community college student because I love to self deprecate. Ironically it’s one of the only qualities I enjoy about myself.

Here’s the thing though, anybody can go to a community college as long as they have at least a GED, possibly even just a scratch piece of paper confirming that the possible student can spell his or her own name right. Then you just gotta pay the money, because let’s be honest that’s what most of this is about. The staff doesn’t work for free, the teachers don’t work for free, although the good ones definitely go much further than their pay-grade would suggest and a lot further than many students will ever appreciate, and sure the government puts some of the money they don’t pocket into the school system, but at the college level it’s mostly about whether you can pay to go or not. And finally getting to the difference of community college and universities, virtually anyone can pay to go to a community college, but you have to be accepted in order to receive the honor of paying to go to a university.

So essentially my beef with dropping out of a community college is that anyone can do it. There’s nothing special about dropping out of a community college. I would bet millions of people do it every year, and I’m not kidding when I say that. But universities, well I would still probably bet that at least a million people drop out of universities each year, but I still think it pales in comparison to the number of people dropping out of community colleges. Sure, I guess I can brag that I was even too lazy to complete community college, but it still doesn’t say much about me. I want to be able to say that I was good enough for a university but just didn’t give a damn.

2.85 is considerably higher than the 2.06 I graduated high school with.

How this ties into regrets I forget, but it might have had to do with me regretting dropping out of community college, but at the same time not really regretting it that much because at the time I did it I knew I wasn’t into it and at some point I would eventually fail out of it because I had no passion. I regret not having passion, and I regret dropping out (failing out) we get it, I failed, still technically dropping out (yeah, except not really) but the point is that I feel it’s a regret I couldn’t avoid. For the reason already mentioned that I felt it was going to happen at some point, but also because all the while regretting it I would be on the path towards something new, something that would perhaps someday help ease the regret, or completely dissolve it.

Today I saw my friend Alex Nguyen graduate from college with honors after five years of hard work, and it got me thinking a lot. There were of course constant regrets because I knew that would never be me, mostly because he’s Asian and I’m not, but other reasons too. But I liked the feeling of regret. It made me want to overcome my odds. The odds of being a college (of the community persuasion) dropout. If I become nothing I’ll have to live with the horrible choice of not finishing college. But if I make something of myself in the field which I love I’ll be redeemed of my horrible choices, both in past and future (there’s going to be future horrible choices?) I’m a 23 year old community college dropout, I’d just be naïve to think I don’t have many more horrible choices in my life.

Regrets are kind of like failures, in that what was wanted to be accomplished was not accomplished, and many times not even attempted. And just like the guy who gave the commencement speech at my friend’s graduation – who said he was going to be brief but went on for 20 minutes about “class starting now” and having a beard but then having to shave it and then who knows what – many people say they learn more from their failures than their successes. I wouldn’t necessarily know much about that because I take to failures the same way I take to my Saturday nights – jerking off and then crying my eyes out into a pillow made of pictures of her…that’s a joke people…What? I didn’t say it was a good one – and I have very few successes, so I don’t really know the feeling of success. I imagine it’s the same as failure but with tears of joy. Either way as a person who fails a lot more than I succeed I like the idea of getting more out of failures and learning from that.

Another regret I have is not immediately saying after whichever was the first teacher to tell me you learn more from failures than success, “Then why do you keep punishing me for getting F’s? I’m just trying to set myself up to learn as much as possible.”

#60 Taker Not A Giver by Northstar

“If you get the chance to, wipe that glare off your face. French kiss my fingerprints and heave it in an alleyway. Defenseless yet so violent princess of divine, your ugliness arrived on time. And I know I never was beautiful enough for you. The scars on my back turn my fingers blue.”

This is just one of those times when I have nothing to say. Not just about the song, or the lyrics, but just about anything. I slept for 14 hours last night after spending 32 and a half of the previous 37 hours awake. My mind doesn’t feel very recovered. I still feel tired. I want to crawl back into bed and sleep, and dream, and be warm, and have my hands in my pants without anyone shaming me – when I try to sleep and it’s either cold or I’m really sad I often sleep on my stomach with my arms stretched beside me and my hands directly under my pelvis, also known as the place where my penis is located. I guess I do this when I’m cold to warm myself up. I guess I do it when I’m sad so I can take up as little space as possible – I’d like not to go back to bed though. I want to try this thing I’ve heard that other people do. I’m not sure if you’re aware of it, but supposedly it’s called being productive. Sounds crazy I know, but I’ll give it the old college try.

I say ‘the old college try’ quite possibly more than anybody else in my age group, which isn’t hard because I only have to say it once every year. I remember my favorite time ever saying it. My friend and I were talking about me continually dropping out of community college and then I mentioned how I might go back and give it one more old college try. At the time it was funnier than it sounds after writing it out.

“And there are reasons why I forfeit that nightly mess. Numbing my hands down that evening dress. My daydreams love the violet color of your lips. And the nightmares that accompany it.”

I don’t know if I’m ever going to give community college the old college try ever again. I honestly don’t think I’m cut out for college. Even community college, which basically is glorified high school without the glorified part. I just went and checked my MyPCC account, which is my community college account, and I’ve got 72 credits with a GPA of 2.85, which I think it’s pretty darn good considering it includes two F’s, an NP and a W, whatever the hell that means (withdrawal).

I wish there was a way I could donate my transcript to somebody. You know, some guy (or girl) with a decent GPA like me, but would never get through community college by himself (or herself) but with the help of my credits could get some kind of degree, of course nothing of any use, but still good enough to put them at the head of the waiting list to get a job at Taco Bell.

“I don’t plan on you tonight, so just shut off the lights…like you wanted to.”

I have to get a job pretty soon. I mean technically I don’t. My mother is far too nice and my step-father is far too pussy-whipped to ever kick me out of this house or make me get a job or make me do anything that might be good for my life. I don’t necessarily think kicking a person out would be good, but it’d be nice to nudge them towards getting a job so one day they could move out. I don’t place any blame on my parents for me having accomplished exactly nothing in my life. Well I blame my biological sperm donor (i.e. father) for not being in my life, because had he been here I’d at least probably know how to drive and have impregnated a few girls by now. But in seriousness even though my mother could have possibly been more motivating I place the blame entirely on me…and God of course.

My mother would like me to go back to college. She tells me it has nothing to do with her wanting me to graduate from a college, which not many members, if any, from my family have done. I think it’s bullshit. I think she would love nothing more than to tell everyone about how her son graduated from college. How dare her try to be proud of me! I no longer have any desire to be a stand up comedian, nor did I ever have any desire except for about two weeks back in high school, but there was something appealing about trying to make a living and possibly gain fame with something where my mother would have to beat around the bush with her friends trying to explain my career to them without revealing my staple act being masturbation humor.

Don’t get me wrong, I would like my mother to be proud of me, but I’d like her to be proud of me for what I want to do. At this point my mind makes me imagine Hitler having a conversation with his mother: “But mom I’ve been behind the deaths of more than 6 million Jews. I was Time Magazine’s Person of the Year in 1938. What more could you ask of me?” And Hitler’s mom replies, “How about bringing home a sweet girl who could give me grandchildren?” Hitler says, “Mother, we’ve been over this. I’m a screaming homosexual.”

New year Resolutions Update

The reason I choose to write updates on my four new year resolutions is so they stay fresh in my mind throughout the year. I find that most people state their resolution[s] at the beginning of the year and then forget about them a few weeks into the year. But not me, I plan to make it two or three months before I totally forget about my resolutions.

The writing has gone fairly well. Well the writing itself is crap, but the important part is I’ve been doing it everyday. The past few days I’ve been putting it off until later in the day, which is a little scary. I find myself sitting at my computer staring at the blank screen for an hour then deciding to jerk off or play weird random games on the internet I’m not quite sure what the rules to are. Also I somewhat embarrassingly spend an enormous amount of time in chatrooms, telling myself that something interesting will be brought up and I can write about that. But mostly it just ends up being me constantly making perverted jokes about masturbation or small penises, which also ends up being what I write about in my blogs. But again the important part is I’ve managed to write for however many days we are into this year. And like I’ve always said, it’s about quantity not quality. Unfortunately (on an unrelated note) my penis doesn’t fair well in either category.

The guitar playing has gone okay. In the first week I missed two days of practicing, but that still fits my goal of playing five days out of the week. The last couple days I’ve been practicing like mad, which unfortunately hasn’t left much time for my masturbation practice (but that’s a skill already perfected). My fingers are better conditioned and are moving around much easier and everything is starting to feel really smooth, but enough about masturbating, let’s get back to the guitar – I imagine if Chris was reading this he would have saw that joke coming. The hardest part is going to be learning how to read music and the names of the chords. It’s hard for me to sit still and try to learn anything (unless it’s the names of all female porn stars) you sir are a liar, I don’t know the name of any porn stars (watch this, initials L A) Lisa Ann! (See). Actually Lisa Ann is about the only female porn star I do know, well by name. I can identify many others by seeing their breasts or butt, or birthing hole, or face – as long as there’s a penis inserted in the mouth. I remember Lisa Ann mostly because she was the girl who played Sarah Palin in the Nailin’ Palin porn, which wasn’t good by the way, not that I watched it six times over or anything.

I was only able to take 12 credits this term, which is what I’ve been doing pretty much every term, but since I was getting a good amount of financial aid this year I could, at least financially, more than afford to take extra classes, but since there was a hold up in my financial aid and that put a hold in my ability to register, by the time I was allowed to register many of the classes I wanted to take were filled up, which meant I would have to settle for lesser classes, both in number and in quality, unless I was willing to sleep with the dean, who I think is a black man. I’m pointing out that he’s black, for one, because it proves my college is not racist, unlike your pretentious alma maters (I’m sure we have a lot of Ivy Leaguers reading this) although my college is a community college, so that might make it more racist to have a black dean, implying that black people can be deans of community colleges but not real colleges (what the hell are you talking about?) I don’t know, but also black guys have big penises, so I’m not willing to take that just in the hopes of getting a better schedule this term. Anyway, schools going pretty good, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to reach my goal of transferring this year.

My goal to perform stand up live has not been going so well. I have looked up one place to do it, but it’s on a Tuesday, which means I would be doing it after attending school for about eight hours, since I have all my classes on a Tuesday. Also I haven’t been writing any material in awhile. But don’t worry, it’s all up here (you can’t see him but he’s pointing to his head) they can’t see me? (This is writing, not a video) well that makes being naked a little less awkward, but still somewhat awkward considering my cats are staring at me. Okay, so I’m not really naked, but I really don’t like my kitties to see me naked. Whenever I’m changing in my room I tell them to look away. Sure they were already looking away, but that doesn’t hurt my ego in the least. Well maybe a little. I’m hideous! My kitties can’t even stand the sight of my naked body. I need to go have a good puke. Nah, I’m pretty skinny, but I think my lower back has gained weight. I’m not excited about it.

Community College Update

Yesterday I went back to community college for the start of winter term. It was very ‘business as usual’ like. I woke up, ate some food, took a shower, jerked off – it helps wake me up – threw on some clothes – the same sweat pants and hoodie I wear to school about 60% of the time – and went to class. There wasn’t much wonderment concerning my classes. Two of the classes I’m taking this term I essentially took last term. They’re just the next level of the class in the series and I’m taking them with the same teachers I had last time, who both gave me A’s even though I didn’t deserve them. In history I didn’t turn in one assignment that was worth 10% of the grade, and missed about five classes, yet I still managed to get an A. My theory is that I’ve had the teacher enough times that he knows I know the material enough to deserve an A, which is completely not true at all. The only reason I ace all the tests in that class is because I cram for hours the morning of the test and then I forget every ounce of the material the second after taking the test. In my creative writing class last term the teacher had said he wouldn’t give anybody anything lower than a B as long as they showed up to the class and submitted a short story to be read at the end of the term. I missed seven classes. According to the Syllabus for every absence over 3 it’s supposed to lower the grade by one half letter. I’m not sure why this teacher gave me an A. I guess we get along sort of well. We’ve had a few discussions over the year but nothing bonding, so the A is a bit of a surprise here. Anyway, let me break down my classes.

My first class of the day is History 202, which is American History from around the Civil War to the first World War. I know this teacher and how he teaches so well that I should be able to get an A in this class with my eyes closed, both hands tied behind my back, and my mouth on my cock – I don’t know why I said that, it just popped into my head. I was disappointed with the people in this class. Since this is the only American history class at this campus I was hoping to see some familiar faces from last term, like that creepy kid who provided me with so much entertainment. The way he would stare at that girl he so clearly had a crush on bordered along stalker like. The girl would be sitting right next to him (not by choice, but rather because he would sit by her after she had already picked her seat) and he would have his head turned at a complete 90 degree angle just staring at her for minutes at a time. And it appeared he wasn’t even trying to hide it. In fact I think he wanted her to notice it, because he had this weird creepy smile on his face the whole time that said, ‘hey girl, look at me looking at you, I know you want me, well guess what, I want you too, so let’s bone right here in front of the whole class.’ But that’s not even the weirdest thing this kid did. Once in class I caught him picking his nose. It wasn’t like it was hard to catch it. He had his pinky knuckle deep in his nostril picking away for a good five minutes. I couldn’t fucking believe it. He wasn’t trying to hide it at all. It’s like he had no shame. And what’s worst of all is that he would be picking his nose with his pinky and he wouldn’t wipe the boogers under his chair like a normal person, instead he stuck his finger in his mouth and sucked it. Yes, he sucked on his finger he just had buried in his nose. Part of me was disgusted. But a larger part of me was jealous. And the smallest part of me was oddly erected. The fact that he could blatantly pick his nose in class and then suck on his finger and not give a crap made me jealous. I wish I could not give a fuck like that. I can’t even walk into the classroom without feeling like every single eye is glaring at me judging all my faults (which is completely contradictory considering your self-esteem is so low you constantly feel as if no cares about you). They only care to judge.

My next class of the day is Mathematics, Intermediate Algebra. I’m taking this class with the same teacher I had in the past, so this term I have no new teachers. I fucking hate math. It’s not because I can’t do it. I do fairly well at math when I try. But its far too repetitive for me (unlike masturbating everyday, right?) no, that’s completely different. Everyday I can masturbate to something new, although I don’t. It’s always the same thing, Asians with big fake breasts. I’m kidding. I like to mix it up and occasionally go with Mexicans with big fake breasts. Pretty much I’m flexible with the race but the big fake knockers are a must (people probably think you’re serious right now) as they should. Anyway the homework is going to be a bitch. I hate homework. I don’t want to do math at home. I want to masturbate at home. I can do homework at school, but I can’t masturbate there….yet. Luckily between this class and my next class I have two hours to sit around at school and wait, so I plan on using that time to get some of my homework done, that way I’ll have much more free time at home to do whatever I want (masturbate) the people know that by now. I’m only taking math because I need it to transfer, which is fucking ridiculous. I can almost guarantee you that the main reason most people end up dropping out of college, and probably out of high school too, is because they can’t pass all the mandatory math and science classes. Listen, I get that science is important, and I get that therefore math is important because many branches of science use math, but God damn it in my entire 22 years of living I haven’t once found knowing how to find the slope of a line useful. Granted it was only yesterday that I learned how to find the slope of a line, but still, almost none of that crap will ever be useful in most people’s life. And I get the whole idea that the reason so many high schools and colleges are forcing students to take math and science is because we live in a world where those skills are becoming more prevalent in jobs, but forcing me to take a math class in college isn’t going to make me want to change my career path and all of the sudden want to become an engineer. For the love of God only idiots want to become engineers nowadays (That’s a joke for David, who appears to be the only guy reading these crappy things, even though he should be focusing more on school because becoming an engineer takes a lot of work, which is why only an intelligent idiot would want to become one). Anyway, my point is that colleges shouldn’t force all these math and science classes on people because if I want to do something in business, which I certainly do not, then knowing how to multiply a radical expression will do nothing to help me move up the corporate ladder. And neither will sleeping with the bosses daughter, but at least that would be fun, unlike math, which I more equate with being dry anally raped by the bosses obese son who has the penis of a pornstar.

My last class of the day is advanced creative writing fiction. I took creative writing fiction last term, but this is the advanced class which means it’s completely different, except for the fact that it’s exactly the same. It’s with the same teacher, and most of the class is made up of students not in the advanced class, so the teacher is going to teach the class the exact same way that he did when I took it last term. That being said if I don’t get an A I will officially be the biggest disappointment ever to come from my moms vagina, aside from what’s produced during that special time of the month (that’s too disgusting, and really there was no need to mention that).

My Community College Career Update

I start my fourth year of Community College on Monday – I haven’t completed three full years, I’ve just been enrolled at the school at different points throughout the last three years, and during that time have accumulated enough credits to almost be considered a sophomore. I’ve learned a lot from my time at Community College, most notably that everything I’ve learned will be of absolutely no value to my life. Perhaps it’s my fault for not paying attention in Psychology class and instead trying to figure out if the nerdy girl wearing glasses in the front has a throng on. I don’t really do that. I actually spend most of my time writing down bad ideas for TV shows and movies and the rest of my time regretting my poor life decisions. But this year will be different (you say that every year) and I never mean it, and I still don’t mean it this year, but I feel I should say it. I do have two classes I’m looking forward to, and one that I’m nervous about.

One of the classes I’m excited about is US History. I’m taking it with a teacher I’ve had three times before and who must like me because the last two classes I’ve had with him he gave me A’s even though I didn’t deserve them. I like the class because the grade is mostly based on tests and I excel at tests for some weird reason. Perhaps it’s because I’m good at studying, or perhaps it’s because I have a copy of the answer key? I suppose we’ll never know. I am looking forward to learning about my country’s history. I know surprisingly little about it. Sure I know that the US is between Canada and Mexico, but that’s more geography and I’m not even sure which one is to the North of us. My guess is Canada because it’s colder up there, but then again maybe that’s what the evil whether channel wants us to think. But honestly I should have no trouble getting an A in this class as long as I’m willing to work hard. But even more honestly I’m probably not willing to work hard.

I’m also excited about the Creative Writing class I’m taking. I’m taking it with a teacher I’ve had twice before, once as a writing teacher and once as a philosophy teacher. Last term in Philosophy he gave me an A even though I clearly didn’t deserve it and was confused as hell and just pulling shit out of my ass on every test and paper. As you probably know I love writing as much as Paris Hilton loves penis (hey, low blow) I don’t care, I gave that bitch the benefit of the doubt for so many years and time after time she’s proved me wrong. As you also know I’m not very well at writing (you mean good) no, the teachers say to use well. I’ve always done remarkably bad in writing classes. I’m very bad at grammar and my spelling is ghastly, but the thing that fuck’s me over most is my unwillingness to do things the way the teacher wants me to. I’ve had teachers in the past that didn’t approve of my using profanity in papers, and frankly I didn’t give a fuck what they thought. I also don’t give my papers the best names. Luckily I didn’t go with this title for my paper in defense of gay marriage, but I wish I had: ‘Gay Fags and the Retarded Fuckers Who Hate Them’. I just felt America wasn’t ready for that title yet.

My third and final class is a public speaking class. This class kind of scares the crap out of me. I’m a pretty shy person, and when I’m around a lot of people I get nervous, and when I get nervous I often have trouble expressing my thoughts, which leads to me looking stupid and trying to sneak off to the bathroom before anybody notices I’ve wet myself. My main motivation for taking this class comes from my plans to do something in the future that I’m not really willing to admit publically in fear of being made fun of and balking out of it – yes, I know I don’t need to use the word ‘balking’ but it came to my head and I decided to use it. Anyway I’m hoping that this class will give me a little more self confidence making me less shy, or that the class will destroy what’s left of my battered ego finally giving me apt reason to kill myself (suicide isn’t funny) if I did it I would make it funny. I’d hang myself with my pants down and a note covering my penis that says, “If found dead please pull my pants up so my mother doesn’t find me like this. If you are my mother I’m sorry for shaming you. Thanks. Go Blazers!” (That’s not funny at all. And the fact that you have your suicide planned is a little scary.) Hmm, hopefully that creative writing class will help me come up with a better way to commit suicide. Not that I’d ever plan to use it. I just need it in my back pocket in case my life ever goes in the shitter. (You tend to end your blogs in a macabre way) I have no idea what that word means. (And your life is already in the shitter) yeah, but it hasn’t been flushed down yet.