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I can write and not be afraid of what I’m going to say.
If I had to listen to some kid with a thick Long Island accent recite “The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost for an entire school year, the road I would have taken would have been blowing my brains out.
Growing up in Staten Island, no one ever said, “Are you thinking Harvard or Yale?” They said, “Are you going to college down the street or will you just stay in the house you grew up in until you die?”
To this day, no one has ever met me and thought, He probably went to Harvard. Most people meet me and think, He might have gone to college?
“You have to see Hamilton!” Honestly, no I don’t. And the more you keep telling me, the less likely I am to actually see it.
would wander the streets alone at 2 or 3 A.M., then return to my dorm and write poetry, with titles such as “A Blurred Vision,” “The Artist’s Flaw,” “The Life of a Man,” and “The Stranger You Love to Meet.” So yeah, it was pretty bleak. And that was before I wrote a poem called “Shall I Flee Her Gripping Curse?” (Holy shit.)
In fairness, I am a member of the Illuminati, but I’m only a Mystic Templar, so I’ve barely glimpsed the Minerval Sanctum. And I assure you, being in the Illuminati isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, unless you like power, gold, and the ability to murder without consequence.
It would be like if you were the only person in your high school who owned a ferret. And then you got to college and found a whole group dedicated to owning ferrets. You’d think, Wow. I finally belong…on an FBI watch list.
had never heard of the Lampoon until I saw a flyer in my freshman dorm. It said, “Try out for the Lampoon, or we’ll kill your parents.” I thought: This sounds like the place for me!
HAVE I MENTIONED I WAS RAISED CATHOLIC? IT’S ALMOST LIKE THERE’S A SUBTLE THEME EMERGING IN THIS BOOK.
I’m terrible at saying no and I’m constantly worried about disappointing people. It’s almost like I’m controlled by a crippling guilt or something. COULD THIS AGAIN RELATE TO MY CATHOLICISM? WHO KNOWS FOR SURE!
Who wouldn’t want to live inside a margarita?
I like to quote the Olive Garden: “When you’re here, you’re breadsticks.”
“Are you and Michael Che really friends?” “Yes.” “Sure we are.” I “love” him. What a “great” “guy.”
So I guess Dwayne Johnson is almost lazy now? Let’s get that rumor started.
Average, of course, is so much better than below average.*1 But when you meet people who are extraordinary, average feels humiliating. I wish it didn’t, but it does.
