Fuck da Fakes

I am done feeling sorry for myself. I need to get back to one of my passions: criticizing people who are so obviously posers that it warrants immediate lights to be lit that proclaim "Get a load of the fuck who thinks he's Seth Cohen." Did I lose you with that statement? I bet the message got through to those who need to understand.

If there is one thing about myself that I like, it is that I have the ability to make my own choices. I like the music that sounds good to my ears; I like the activities that are fun to me, regardless of whether everyone likes them or not. I like to drink. I like to be seen in pictures with an alcoholic beverage in my hand. If I see a camera, my first instinct is to look at my right hand. If there is a beer, solo cup, etc. in that hand, I high-tail it over to the camera. If not, I glance at my left hand, and repeat the process. If there is no drink to be had in either hand, I get in that picture anyway.

I like all forms of music. I don't put others down for their musical choices, although I think most would agree that Jack Johnson is a painful listen. But other than that, I have no problem with pretty much all music. I like obscure bands like Explosions In The Sky. But I also like mainstream ones, like Dave Matthews. Sue me for having a broad pallet, wannabe Indie kids. Sue me. And while you're at it, do hours and hours of research for your latest blog entry just so you can satisfy your hunger for a few Facebook comments that say "Swell blog!" While you're wasting time on that and overachieving at your ridiculously white high school and trying to figure out how you can make sure your high school friends become your college friends, I'll be working on a two-minute freewrite, not doing any homework, not because I am anti-school or because I think it's "cool" but because I am already into college, and not living my life to please others with how artificially interesting I can be.

P.S. I requested "Lottery" for my roommate next year at the Dub. ****Gasp!****