Tellin’ it like it is
As I’ve mentioned before on this site, it’s seems less than likely that any of us ’80s babies will ever ascend to the level of a Diddy or a Russell Simmons in terms of wealth. The oldest of us are already into our late ’20s, and what do we have to show for it? I can afford to drink and eat fast food every night of the week, which is definitely fulfilling on a certain level, but only if I live a roommate.
Indeed it’s probably time for the vast majority of us to re-evaluate our expectations. Times are only going to get that much more difficult for the forseeable future. But as Dr. Robert H. Schuller once said, tough times don’t last, but tough people do. In the meantime, here’s a list of suggestions I put together to help my fellow ’80s babies turn a negative situation into a slightly less negative one.
Learn to love Busch Light. Here’s the thing about cheap beer: if you go and drink some “expensive” shit for a week, because it was pay day or something, and then go back to drinking the cheap shit, you could end up with a really fucked up hanger like the one I’ve got right now. The key then is to avoid the temptation to drink $20 a case beer and just stick with the $15 a case shit. Your wallet as well as your brain will thank you in the long run.
Stop paying for bitches. Not to suggest that women are only out for a man’s money, but if you ever want to do the nasty with a woman – hooker or otherwise – you’re probably going to end up opening your wallet at some point. That said, keep that bad boy closed as often as possible. Especially if the chick’s not that attractive anyway. A lot of women make more money than men these days anyway; why give them the double satisfaction of spending what little money you do have on them?
(It might be different for gay guys, but I don’t approve of any gay guys reading my writing anyway. Go away!)
We want pre-nup! Let’s say you do luck out and find a woman with a job and a full set of teeth and a killer rack, or whatever it is you’d require in a woman in order to consider marriage. Resist any and all temptation to sign on the dotted line without have some sort of arrangement in place. Even if the broad makes way more money than you, she still still might find some way to take a big bite out of your check (which you’d obviously need at that point) if the two of you ever call it quits. That’s just how it works in this country.
Think twice about reproducing. Obviously the ideal situation would be to find a broad with a good job (plus a full set of teeth and a killer rack, natch) who has no intention of producing any offspring. Kids cost an insane amount of money to raise and will probably only grow up to hate you anyway. Tip: if your s.o. occasionally gets the urge to have kids of her own, take her over to someone else’s house and let her play with their kids for a day or so.
Fuck looking cute. Here’s an interesting fact for those of you with less than fortunate upbringings: People who actually have the money to buy a $100 pair of shoes don’t even wear $100. You can get a perfectly decent pair of shoes (in many cases the same shit, just a year older) for like one-fifth that amount. The same thing goes for clothes. You can cop a slightly irregular Polo shirt from Marshall’s (Rey’s favorite store) for a fraction of what that shit costs at the mall. Whatever you do, don’t buy clothes from any brands associated with a famous rapper. That’s just silly.
1-866-347-2423. This is the phone number for Immigrations and Customs Enforcement a/k/a INS La Migra (for the Spanish speaking individuals among us). If you see your neighborhood becoming overrun by illegal immigrants, fucking call La Migra on their asses. It’s hard enough to make a living these days without wages being undercut here at home as well as jobs being sent overseas thanks to so-called free trade. Why deal with at all if you don’t have to?