Oh, another night spent fumbling around the internet, another aimless night looking at Hater Party Crew and realizing that, as of the past couple of months, I've had absolutely nothing to hate on. Or hate with. Or hate, otherwise.
Politics are the easiest to hate; Sarah Palin being the easiest and most obvious target. And yet she failed to flounder in the debate. Essentially, the political edge is gone, Obama is up in the polls, and with that I'm generally happy with life, in general (if there's something to hate on, but not really, I should just say, "Hey, call me back.").
What I stumbled upon to post about was regarding something found on Salon.com, regarding a twenty-something close to my age but not necessarily in my own situation. Or closer to me than I want to let on, or admit. Who knows?; some better than others. To quote, and it's a link:
But though they are also out of college with careers now, the people I’ve been hanging around with thrive on more of an extended adolescence: empty flirtation with Barbie at the trendy nightspots, beer pong, ’80s iPod playlists, making fun of each other, and lounging in gym clothes in front of video games, Judd Apatow movies and ESPN. I do wish I could now claim some of the shameless, irresponsible, mainstream fun that my serious relationship kept in check, but on the other hand, there was a reason I never wanted to join a frat … I can escape from that scene in some satisfying ways — practicing the piano, having an occasional co-workers happy hour, getting back into riding my bicycle and playing tennis, and reading, reading, reading — but none are opportunities to start friendships with cooler people.
Read the entire link and find that the writer finds that his current friends circle is far too adolescent or college-like for him. It's a problem for sure, mostly. I looked at this and thought:
Oh!, an ode to my friends. We make fun of each other and use recent Presidential Debate references to do so! Crude jokes about the SS are not only understood as crude and distasteful but also as funny and historically referenced. Placenta tacos? I don't want to eat that shit because I know what placenta is. Basically, my friends are smart, well read, up on current events, artistic, stylish, childish, nerdy, lazy (at times), petty, and generally awesome.
It seems like the writer of the "help letter" could fit in with us, and us know who us is, if only dude took himself a little less seriously. You know?