Welcome to the Real World

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Case Study: Antonia Puerta is toast. At 22 years old, an obviously fit and healthy footballer had a heart attack on the field, and then died a few days later. I can think of a couple of ways to go with this one. I guess the first and most obvious one is, that as people, our time here cannot be managed, controlled, or otherwise manipulated to your full advantage. Personal intervention and effort can only take you so far, because in the end, if your dad and mom gave you a heart disease, you going to die, whether or not you are ready for it, and whether or not the “odds” are in your favor. Clearly, this dude Peurta was a sick nasty athlete, playing professional soccer at 22. He had been playing at the club since he was 14 or so, so the dude was clearly, clearly at the height of his game.

It’s like the runner fanatic dude, who had a heart attack and died…while he was running around his neighborhood. The dude was a fitness freak, pushing his running obsession onto everyone, and then he just fucking died, doing the thing that’s supposed to make you so healthy.

That, little bitches, is called irony. I learned about it in college.

Speaking of college, what did I really learn in college? Nothing. I have basically summarized all my college knowledge on this shit-hole blog. Namely, that excessive slacking gives me satisfaction, I actually do hate everybody for being fuckhead toolboxes, racism is alive and well (to and from all directions), and lots of other stuff.

But what did I learn about the “real world?” Nothing. I was there with a bunch of fags, who were  trying to get ahead in the “real world,” so they took business classes, drank Starbucks and were just overall gay ass fuckers.

Which is kind of like the real world, I guess, except in the real world, people go to work instead of business class, but they still drink Starbucks and are overall gay ass fuckers.

Which gets me back to my childhood. When I was a kid, everything was “real world” this or real world that. I was always on the path to success in the real world, so I focused on shit that bent and twisted me in a way that would make me almost completely incompatible with the way shit is done everyday.

Do I have a ridiculous memory, and be able to repeat stupid shit that I read in a book about some story or theory or some shit, without blinking an eye? Yes, I can do that.

Can I have a conversation with someone in the “real world,” and exude an aura of normalcy and content? No, I can’t. I’m a twisted off freak show, with no real chance of ever being normal, sane or comfortable with who I am in relationship to the world.

This gets back to what I was talking about waaaaaaaaaaaaay back in the day about racism. I’m twisted off because I grew up in a strange vacuum of richiosity and specialness, where everyone can be President one day, and everyone wrote the best paper in the class.

I’ve got news for you, little bitches. The real world is a lot different than what people tell you what the real world is, and I think you enter the real world when you realize the difference between what it should be and what it is.

In the make-believe real world, a 22-year old soccer player won’t have a heart attack on the field, because all the training and conditioning would have ensured his physical success. Through his own hard work, his body should have been in 100% shape.

In the real real world, that dude is dead, and his girlfriend is 8 months preggo.

Real world Case #2: Don’t Drink and Drive, Pre. Jackass

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5 Responses to “Welcome to the Real World”


  1. 1 suityourself August 30, 2007 at 8:59 am

    hear, hear. good post stoney. this is da troof, and we all best recognize. the “real world” does not exist. planning for it is a damn shame, cuz it has set us all up for very real (no quotes) failure. we get one shot, and we’ve already fucked it up beyond recognition… the good news is that it doesn’t fucking matter anyways. for all we know, hitler’s in heaven, and gandhi’s in hell.

  2. 2 twitch September 6, 2007 at 3:34 pm

    Jim Fix is that health-nut who died while jogging? He used to write books about jogging…what do you jot down about jogging? “Left foot, right foot, hemorage.” fuck Jim…we’re gonna need a happier ending, buddy. Heart-attack while jogging, that’s heavy shit. It’s always the yogurt, sprout-eating fuck that gets run over by a bus driven by a guy who smokes three and a half packs a day. “Sorry officer I didn’t see him, I was too busy smoking.”

  3. 3 dankknuggets September 7, 2007 at 6:44 pm

    wave of the future, wave of the future, wave of the future

  4. 4 twitch September 8, 2007 at 2:04 am

    is dank loaded er what?

  5. 5 stoneywageslave September 8, 2007 at 9:27 pm

    always…

    smoke dog


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