Life sucks

The advice you give a P7 leaver is different from the stuff you tell a university graduate. To the gullible little tadpole we gush: “Dream, little one, dream, and your dreams will come true. You could be the first black president of Uganda if you only believe in your dreams.”

To the university graduate we say: “Wake up.”

It’s over: For most of you, those were the best years of your life. Hope you made the most of them because from now on, everything will suck. Even if you get the proverbial “job doing something you love” eventually it will become a JOB. JOBs are dreary and tedious and smother you until one day you will understand exactly why even movie stars take vacations.

Jobs suck. And do you know what they suck? They suck your soul out of your eyes with their evil computers. Computer monitors have a programme hidden in the screen light which hypnotises you and lulls you into a trance while the fluorescent lights and the ozone in the air conditioning commingle in the room to create a compound called Moloch that corrodes your spirit. In the end you are an empty shell of your former self, waking up one morning, blinking at the ceiling and wondering what the hell happened. That is when you divorce your spouse.

We lied about everything: Remember when they told you that you are unique and special and that you have the world in the palm of your hand? Well, there are many things they told you that were lies. The mouse does not sneak in at night to take your teeth, it sneaks in at night to give you rabies. Not all elders are deserving of respect, some of them are sexual perverts and thieves. Patriotism isn’t an absolute virtue. And you are not a little god. Millions of children were told they could be the first black president of stato. Only one of them made it.

Self-esteem is bull: You could work yourself into a frenzy of confidence (or megalomania that you merely call confidence) and clomp your heels straight down the office aisle like a catwalking Isis and your head may be playing the Django soundtrack as you move… “Djangoooo! Djangoooo!” (That soundtrack rocked!) But nobody will look up in awe and admiration in your wake unless you have a phenomenal behind and they are contemplating sex.

Hey: Hey, do you know how to tell the difference between a guy who got a first class degree and a guy who got a pass diploma after 10 years in the workplace? The answer is D: You can’t. It ultimately makes no difference.

We don’t owe you anything: We see you on TV vox pops spraying spittle onto the camera lens, making us really regret getting HDTV because all it does is amplify your grossness, as you shriek in your demonstrations about how the Government should give you jobs. You want a job? My car needs washing. Go become my car washer.
“But, but, no. I have a degree in Horticultural Economics. I can’t wash cars.”
Well, we don’t have horticulture that needs economising. We only have dirty cars.

Finally: Welcome to the rest of your life. Muahahahahaha!

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