Posts Tagged ‘drinking’

There was once a blog. That blogger released too much sensitive info of girls he fucked, so he shut it down. Luckily it was all copied beforehand, so we can all read his writings of genius here at solomonreborn.wordpress.com

This post expresses everything wrong, and by default kinda awesome, about American girls. One of the best posts I have ever read. I included the comments. be sure to read comment #3.

Drive Thru Boyfriends

Posted on March 21, 2011 by Dalrock

Fall 2010 by Solomon II

“Welcome to McFling’s.  My name is Solomon II.  May I take your order?”

“Uh, yes.  I’ll have the three months of meaningless sex from the Boyfriend Lite menu, add extra self respect.  Hold the judgment and consequences please.

“I’m sorry; we’re all out of self respect.  Would you like to add a side of rationalization for only $1 more?”

“Yeah.  That’s fine.  Super size it please.”

“Thank you.  Please pull up to the window for your total.”

There she is driving down the road of life at her own pace.  She’s young, independent, beautiful and has all the time in the world.  When she’s horny, she swings into the closest drive thru and places her order.  She does the same thing when she’s sad, lonely, happy, up, down, in, out, excited, needy, afraid, strong, weak, depressed, moody, joyful, exhilarated, stressed, etc. Any and every reason is valid because she’s being “true to herself”. Every three months on average she swings into McFling’s and orders up the best looking or most exciting thing on the menu (because she’s sooo selective).  There’s also a couple of late night snack runs thrown in there for good measure, but not as many as some other girls, so you have no right to judge her.  She’s young and her metabolism is firing on all cylinders, so now is the time for her to gorge herself with no consequences.

At the age of 27, she starts to notice that her steady diet of junk food relationships isn’t as satisfying as it once was.  Sure the bright lights, flashy signs, fast service and cheap satisfaction made for great fun, but now she’s starving for wholesome affection and beginning to show signs of emotional malnutrition.  There has to be something better out there.  Something more substantive.

All of a sudden she decides to make a change.  No more drive thru boyfriends.  Certainly everyone understands that her junk food relationship binge wasn’t her fault since it’s the bulk of what society offers.  It’s our culture.  These greasy high calorie drive thru boyfriend establishments are on every corner, advertised on every channel, glamorized in the media, and no one really told her how bad they could be for her health.  It’s society’s fault.  It’s the franchise’s fault. All the girls she knows are doing it, so how could she possibly be expected to know any better?

So now she wants steak, and by God she’s convinced that she deserves it from a five star restaurant.

She takes a shower hoping the stench of her decade long habit of frequenting McFling’s won’t be as noticeable.  She may not know how to act properly at the new fancy steakhouse she’s going to try tonight, but it’s ok.  Men always give her a pass on her behavior since she’s beautiful and an easy lay adventurous.

When she’s all done getting ready and is confident that she can look and act like the type of girl who has been eating healthy all along, she heads out for the best steakhouse in town.  Why not the best?  She deserves it, and her friend Michelle ate there last week (and she’s totally not even pretty).

With all the undeserved self confidence in the world and an advanced case of juvenile egocentrism, she pulls into the parking lot of the steakhouse.  She notices there are dozens of people standing in line.  She doesn’t understand.  The stupid bitch at the hostess desk asked her if she had a reservation.  A reservation?!  How rude!  She has a vagina and that’s always been sufficient before, so what gives?  It seems the steakhouse is completely booked for months.

Now she’s pissed off.  How could the upscale steakhouse refuse to seat her?  So what if she showed up right at prime dinner time (27 years old o’clock) and demanded the best seat in the house.  She deserves it.  She’s waited so long for it… well, not really, but in theory anyway.  She always knew the steakhouse was there, she just never took the time to plan ahead for reservations.  It’s not her fault.

As she drives away, she realizes she has another problem.  She’s still hungry.  She pulls in to yet another McFling’s, this time disgusted to be there.  But she’s changed, so she decides to try something different.

“Welcome to McFling’s.  My name is Solomon II.  May I take your order?”

“Uh, yes.  I’ll have the steak please.”

“We don’t serve steak.  Show me your tits.”

“I’m not like that anymore.  Steak please.”

“I can offer you the three months of meaningless sex from the Boyfriend Lite menu, and pretend to hold the judgment and consequences if you’d like.”

“Steak please.”

“Bitch, would you like me to serve you the three months of meaningless sex from the Boyfriend Lite menu, pretend to hold the judgment and consequences, and just *tell you* it’s steak?”

“Steak please.”

“Fine.  Please pull up to the first window.  I’ll have your total and a treat for your hamster.”

This cycle continues until she turns 30 and realizes that she’ll never get in to the steakhouse.  She’s waited much too long to make reservations, so she settles for a Beta male who takes her to Chili’s on 2 for 1 night in his minivan.  Hey, it’s not the steakhouse she deserves, but it’s better than that asshole Solomon II at the drive thru boyfriend joint.  At least Chili’s has real silverware.

That night she stumbles upon a blog with a post entitled “Drive Thru Boyfriends” and gets righteously annoyed.  That’s not her at all.  That was never her intention.  She’s different, special, and unique.  What gives the author the right to assume that he knows her or can determine what she’s been through in her AMAZING life?  He doesn’t know her story.  He doesn’t know her heart.  He can’t judge her actions based on what other girls do simply because she did the same things and ended up in the same situation they did.  He can’t tell her what kind of person she is, or what her fate will be.  She’s different than the rest.  She’s strong, independent and wise beyond her years.

In her rage she hits the road again, confused by what has happened to her and angry that she didn’t get what she deserved out of life.  With her Beta boyfriend wondering where the hell she is, she drives past the steakhouse which is closed for the night.  Blinded by fury and driven by emotion, she decides to make yet another change.  A real and meaningful change this time.  This time she’ll get it right and enjoy what she deserves for being an amazing woman.  Her rationalization hamster helps out with navigation and leads her to a brand new place.  Somewhere she’s never been.  This is it!  This is what she needs.  This time she’s confident she’ll get what she deserves.

And she does.

“Welcome to McFling’s.  My name is Solomon II.  May I take your order?”

“Steak, please…”

Suggested Reading: Commitment as a Form of Female Investment by Dalrock.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

About Solomon II
As iron sharpeneth iron, so one man sharpeneth another. Proverbs 27:17

One blogger likes this post.
Dalrock

16 Responses to Drive Thru Boyfriends

  1.  Penguin says:

    The last couple of posts are great. You’re on fire!

  2.  HappilyMarriedButJustGotLucky says:

    Agree with Penguin. Quite creative and enjoyable!

  3.  Days of Broken Arrows says:

    …and then one day she turned 42. And she realized few people wanted to serve her McBurgers anymore. The steak had never really come her way, but McBurgers always came easy. Now even that was hard to come by. So she went driving into the night until it became morning.

    Sunday morning.

    That’s when she found the mega-church, or the McChurch. She also found McJesus in the McPastor’s McSermons which weren’t really from scripture, but a McReading of the scripture to appeal to the McPeople who filled the McChurch. The Dr. Phil platitudes of the McPreacher allowed her to feel self-righteous and pass judgment on everyone else. Sure, she might have screwed anything that walked, but now she was a McVirgin. Surely, she was a cut above those sinners who didn’t find the McWord, wasn’t she?

    Male attention had ceased, but it came around again when she began posting McPlatitudes on her Facebook page. Things like “If God brings you to it, then God will get you through it.” Now guys were practically high five-ing her online, since that was what they thought they were supposed to do, knowing nothing better in their empty American McLives of football’n’McJesus. And she began responding to people with “God loves you!” Instead of a simple “Bye!” or “Hello!” That got attention. Her breasts were sagging, but her HolyMcSpirit was high. It also made it easier to block out the cries she heard of all the McBabies she never did have (or the ones that wound up washed in pieces in the McDoctor’s drain).

    Like all TRUE stories, this one has a moral.

    Women who use sex in their twenties to get power and fulfillment use religion in their forties when the sex well runs dry. Of course, it’s all McPower — not the real thing, but a low-budget simulation.

  4.  Solomon II says:

    @Days: Beautifully done, and so true. As the son of a Baptist Minister, I can confirm 100%. Church is the last refuge of many a whore. That’s why I laugh when men say they want to go to church to meet a good girl.

    @ Penguin and Happily: Thanks! I really appreciate your feedback.

  5.  finndistan says:

    That was one of the best ways the concept has been written about.

    Btw,

    It is not just wanting to eat steak at a restaurant, it is also wanting the restaurant to pay them for eating the steak; and even pay for the open tabs of the past McFlings.

    And due all the additives (i.e. sodium glutamate, sweeteners, preservatives…) , the taste buds are almost dead, so the steak will never taste like a pumped um McFling with cream on top.

  6.  Solomon II says:

    @finndistan: It’s amazing how this analogy could go on and on forever and still hold true.

  7. Pingback: Commitment as a form of female investment. | Dalrock
  8.  Thag Jones says:

    He can’t judge her actions based on what other girls do simply because she did the same things and ended up in the same situation they did.

    I lol’d. That’s a good one!

  9.  dalrock says:

    “We don’t serve steak. Show me your tits.”

    One of the funniest things I’ve read in a long, long time!

    Thanks for your link back and putting me on your blogroll! I’ve added you to mine as well not so much out of reciprocation, but because I want to be able to read your latest posts easily. I’ve only read your most recent four posts, but I’m hooked.

    One question though, who is Darlock? :)

    [Damn it. Give me a sec.]

  10. Pingback: Linkage is Good for You: You Know What the Pattern Is Edition
  11.  Bronckin’ Buckeye says:

    Is this the customer you’re talking about?

    http://40daysandengaged.tumblr.com/

    It’s a must read.

    “Flirting with the laws of attraction. As single (and choosy) girls ——— and —– have decided to put their beliefs in the Law of Attraction to the test to attract the men of their dreams…. We will be wearing engagement rings for 40 days to send signals to the universe that we have found what we are looking for. By doing this we are hoping that in response to those signals we are sending out we will actually receive what we are looking for.
    We will be following some rules through this experiment.
    1. The ring must be worn during every public outting
    2. If a possible “love interest” questions the ring and asks if we are engaged we must answer “Yes, to myself.”
    3. No dating (or similar extra curricular activities) during the 40 day period.
    4. We must go “out” and socialize at least once per weekend
    *Rules are subject to change at our discretion*”

    [S2 Says: Christ, man. Women are fucking delusional. I should quit picking on them and start a foundation or something.]

  12.  Squared says:

    Hey Solomon, just found your blog earlier today. I’ve gone back in your archives and have read about a dozen of your posts already, and I find myself short of superlatives. Absolutely brilliant stuff all around. You definitely have what it takes to become the new king of this part of the blogosphere.

    I’ll be checking this one regularly, keep it up!

  13.  Steve says:

    Funny shit bro.

Came across this on a blog. I couldn’t agree more.

A Proposal: Let’s Stop Making ‘Wedding’ One of Life’s Key Check Marks.

by Joy Engel on April 27, 2011

“In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you that I’m officially interested in the Royal Wedding.

I tried to keep the cynicism alive, I really did. But it’s hard to be anti-Royal Wedding while also being friends with Chiara and communicating daily with a colleague in London. And once I realized that being interested in the Royal Wedding essentially means day drinking and talking about fancy hats (two of my favorite pastimes), I was all on board.

Like all short-lived obsessions, I’ve thrown myself into this. I watched the Lifetime movie, I read some articles about their history and crowned myself an expert on Wills and Kate. I think they’re nice. I think they actually love each other. I think she has glorious hair. And that’s a lot for me to think about a couple I will never actually meet. Let’s have some more champagne.

My wedding enthusiasm is (more…)

This just sums it up about right!

Guest Post by idiedtryin:
There are many different kind of drunks. People who drink for all sorts of reasons. I recently met this girl and she asked me what my plans were for the night, I told her “getting wasted” was number one on my agenda, she said I find that its sad you need alcohol to have fun. I told her back, do you like going to amusement parks? Yes. Would u say that amusement parks are fun? Yes.  My answer then was, I find it sad you need roller coasters to have fun!

Some people drink to take away pain, and not feel anything.  To get that numbness. I drink for sheer fun, and the fun that comes with the drinking. Usually when I drink there are many foggy hazy memories I have when I wake up.

Now my main topic: hangovers. I often hear people complaining about hangovers…how brutal it is and how they can barely function, for me a hangover means one thing: the night was a great success.  I can honestly say that except for one time in my life I woke up the next morning regretting it. A hangover to me is a friendly and awesome reminder of my previous fun I had the night before.

What does a hangover mean to you?


I have a few things to vent about, hope noone minds.

I always see weird searches that people typed in. But today among the typical list of searches such as “hot chani”, “lubavitch off the derech”, and “brad pitt depression” (can’t believe that article is  still being read), was one that read “people that sleep with dead people”. Now what exactly have I written that even remotely relates to that morbid topic??

Ever go out with friends drinking, shopping, eating to the movies or whatever else you may be doing, and you’re short on cash? You’ll borrow say $2 for a can of soda, and promise to pay back. Either he’ll say nah bro don’t worry about it, or he’ll let you pay back. But what I don’t understand are the friends who, upon lending you a couple bucks, will ask you to buy them a drink as payment when out drinking next time. Take the following scenario:

You: Hey dude, you got an extra 2 bucks on you? I gotta buy a drink or I’m gonna fuckin faint!

Friend: Sure dude, here ya go!

You: Aaight thanks man, I’lll hit you up next time.

Friend: It’s cool bro

The next night:

You: Hey dude, wanna go out to that club tonight with some chics? Heard it’s gonna be sickkk.

Friend: Sure lets go!

At the club:

You (screaming over loud thumpy music): Yoo lets go get wasssted!!

Friend (screaming equally loud, trying to be heard over loud, thumpy music): Yea dude lets go!

You (to hot chic behind the bar): Heyy can I get a vodka with 3 limes?

Friend ( to bartender): Hey I’ll have one of those too

Bartender: Sure, that’ll be 11 dollars each.

Friend to you: Hey bro I got you the other day, so you got my drink aaight?

Why does a friend spotting you a measly $2 give him the right to assume I’m gonna pay $11 for his overpriced drink the next night, as if buying him a drink is an acceptable method of paying back any loan, no matter how small in comparison to the drink.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m no cheapskate (yea I know I’m Jewish) and would gladly buy the my friend a drink if he’s a bit tight on cash, he’s my friend after all! But it’s the idea that people assume that I’d be buying them a drink as payment. Why can’t I just take out my wallet like a normal person and hand him over the 2 bucks?

About hookers: Ever wonder how they fucked their first client? I don’t mean positions, just…how? How’d they go from being a normal person to a hooker?? But I guess like the song from Lazy Boy TV goes: “It takes alot of drunk daddies to get a girl to blow a goat on the internet”.


Lastly and most disturbingly, anyone wonder how the hell their grandparents are able to have sex? I mean she’s all old and wrinkly! And she’s my grandma! I’m usually not this sick, just this image made me wonder…

While I’m on the topic of the evils of drinking I figured I’d make a list of different scenarios in which different people have a drink…or two…or ten.

1. Yeshiva Guy Headline Whore:

Age: 10-19

Favorite Activity: smoking and talking about the time Yanky’s older brother beat up a goy. Oh, and he also likes to brag about how long it takes his Yeshiva to get through an amud gemara.

Drink of Choice: alcohol. Doesn’t matter what type, he barely knows a beer from a kettel one with 3 limes.

Time of Drinking: Purim and by his brother Yerucham’s siyum. He finished gantz seder nashim! (can’t blame him- must’ve gotten sick of cows goring fat pregnant chics, figured he’d get into some steamy girl stories. With Rabbi’s students getting off under their Rabbi’s bed watching him fuck his wife. Nasty. But I’ll parody the different gemara stuff another post.

Most likely to be wearing: The younger guys: Nike sneakers, dark dockers and a polo- maybe ralph Lauren, more likely Tommy or maybe even Hollister for the realll cool guys.

Older guys: white shirt, tzitzis, black pants and huge yarmulka. hat and jacket goes without saying. Or maybe not, if he’s a hocker.

Motive: Bragging rights. Heck, maybe he’ll get into the Yated for landing himself in the hospital.

2. Oiveid Hashem:

Age: 14-40

Favorite activity: The fact that your even asking vos ich hub leeb tzu tun, is mamesh a geferlecheh chillul hashem! The only thing vos a yeshiva man want, the most important zach i deh velt vus mir ken tun, iz tzu lernen der eibeshters heiligeh heligeh torah ayayayy…

Drink of Choice: wine or schnapps.

Time of Drinking: Purim is the only time a year that ah mentch is shayach to reach the kedusha oof Yom Kippur! And even better vibalt it’s durch simcha! Nichnas yayin yatzah soid! Ah! Moiiiiredig! Chayav inish livisoomay bipoorayah ad diloh yada! And the Mitzvah is only with wine…

Also noch davening shabbos morning at the kiddush, a shot or two of bourbon never hurt anyone…

Most likely to be wearing: wrinkled white shirt, black shiny dress pants and mismatched black jacket. Dusty used-to-be-black but turned grey brimmed down hat. Shoes scuffed and ugly.

Motive: Ah mentch darf nisht hubben ah ta’am far deenin der eibeshter.

3. Dude in Israel for Shana Alef or Bet:

Age:17-20

Favorite activity: Depending on which Yeshiva he went to (also for another post) either going to Zolly’s and getting blowjobs in the bathroom or fucking the shit out of the yeshivish looking sem girl in his dorm room. But they’ll always be sure not to get caught…might ruin the chics shidduch chances. Ha- that slut will be wearing short shorts and tank tops within 6 weeks of getting back from Israel.

Drink of Choice: Hooka. Oh, its not a drink? Well some pot in the hooka mixed with some vodka redbull ain’t too bad a deal.

Time of Drinking: best is straight out of bed, after you manage to push her off you and realize you have a pounding headache and no memories of how or when you ordered pizza. And why it’s moldy is another question, for another time. And best thing for a hangover as they say is more beer. Can’t hurt, that’ for sure. Usually warm beer from a half drunk can which probably was last touched by the lips of the girl you just climbed out from under. And shes also the cause of all that goddam itching. Good luck brotha!

Most likely to be wearing:

Option 1: Baggy khakhis, rumpled t-shirt, naots.

Option 2: Jeans, untucked american eagle shirt, naots.

Option 3: Black pants, used to be starched untucked white shirt and crocs, probably dark in color. Or maybe bright orange. Depends- on what? I dunno.

Motive: survival, buddy, survival.

4. Post Israel Barely Religious Dude

I like ti call these guys Frum But Not Religious. They don’t keep anything but still go places for shabbos and eat at mainly kosher establishments even tho they’ll be using their cell phones on shabbos and have bacon egg and cheese on the way to Atlantic City if they somehow missed stopping at Dunkin on 18th.

Age: 20-24

Favorite Activity: Titties. And don’t tell me that’s not an activity. Better than Christmas!

This guy drinks alot:

Time of drinking, drink of choice and motive: A. House party, flat beer from a keg and jack and coke, getting with the drunk slut. Read drunk slut in the plural form. As in when I talk  to 300 ppl at once and say “you”. And btw who the fuck said there has to be a motive??

B. Club, Vodka cranberry orange juice, getting with- well anything that moves and has boobs. Cuz most guys end up paying through the roof for those drinks, unless they have a hookup ( I know I do, many actually :p) so they must be desperate at that point. Like my friend said- fat chics are great for one thing- giving great blowjobs, well cuz they know how to eat!

C. Hooka bar: don’t get me started.

Most likely to be wearing: Fitted t or nice shirt. Jeans, brown pointy shoes with dragon designs on the front.

5. Post Party Day Ex Yeshiva Rebel:

Age: 25-30

Favorite Activity: Making money. Loads of money. And then some.

Time of Drinking: After work on random nights at high end hotel bars where they play soft music and in the movies some hooker always sits down and with the look of a shrewd business woman, softly whispers something in his ear while her hand…I’m getting carried away, dammit.

Drink of Choice: Scotch on the rocks. Something golden in a nice glass should do the trick.

Motive: so much stress can only be relieved one way…

Most likely to be wearing: Armani suit, shirt and dress shoes. And if he used to be satmar….he probably still has his bluetooth in…

For those of you who wonder why I post erratically, the answer is quite simple- I don’t LOOK for things to post. I let the inspiration of the moment speak for itself. Similar to when I cook- I figure out basically what I want to make, say a stir-fry, and the I let the food speak to me. Sounds crazy, I know. But that’s how I work.

Well, I just had a beer and was sitting watching Nip-Tuck, when Dr. Troy mentioned about swearing off drinking and then waking up with a hangover. It hit me at that moment- quite in a similar way to when I was at my friends place on Fire Island and the absurdity of religion hit me as I watched real normal American life unfold in front of me – when the word drinking was said in a very innocent way. Let me begin with the following.

I never really drank, even on Purim, until I was maybe in 12th grade or even older. I went to Israel, and by the time I came back I was fast becoming not religious. Shortly thereafter as I mentioned I began working in Manhattan. Grabbing drinks after work on Stone Street- you gotta check that place out- became commonplace, as did coming home drunk on Thursday, Friday, Saturday or Sunday nights, more often than not at least two of those. My mom looked at drinking like  an unbelievable evil. Even on Purim, when all other people I knew got shitfaced I always felt uncomfortable taking a drink in high school. So you can imagine at this point my mom wasn’t thrilled. Now they weren’t – still aren’t – the type of people to say anything to me, but I knew my mom looked at drinking on the weekends like an unbelievably irresponsible and sad thing.

Just recently I went away with some friends. I took the family car and loaded it up with some beers for the road. Not for the road literally but for when we stopped driving for the night. We didn’t end up drinking at all so I unloaded the beers from the car when I got home and brought them into my room. Inadvertently I left one bottle in the car. My mom found it and went ballistic, assuming I take to drinking while driving. Now I can assure you that I do no such thing. If I so much as had a beer I won’t drive for a long while, to be sure all the alcohol is out of my system. I calmed her down and life went on.

Ok, so what hit me was the following. Here’s my mom, and many people in the Jewish community, who assume that drinking is evil. Yet on Purim most seem to have no problem. Yes, there are calls for being safe, and some call for not drinking at all. But the overwhelming feeling people have about Purim is that it’s OK to drink. My mom feels one can drink on Purim, but drinking any other time of the year is completely immature. Now who the hell made that bullshit up? Just because YOU decide to go along with the rest of the largely pathetic Frum community and drink on Purim, doesn’t mean that day is any different than others. Who made up that drinking on Purim is ok, and only once a year??

At least my mom herself never drinks. But my dad drinks on Purim and has a shot or two or three at the Shabbos meal and yet still tells of the “horrors” of Yeshiva guys drinking at weddings. Who the fuck doesn’t drink at weddings??

Now I’m not an alcoholic.  Far from it, but social drinking that doesn’t interrupt your life, nor do you feel that not drinking will ruin that night, is perfectly acceptable. And to suggest otherwise, while condoning drinking on YOUR holiday is the talk of asinine and pathetic hypocrites.

Personally, I find that there’s nothing like a few drinks to get both parties interested and loosened up…so can I buy you a drink?

Yea. Wtf.

“The fact that a believer is happier than a skeptic is no more to the point than the fact that a drunken man is happier than a sober one.” George Bernard Shaw

Debatable. Interesting quote nonetheless. I don’t think believers are drunk at all. I respect those who believe and follow a certain path, be it Orthodoxy, Christianity, Islam, Liberalism or any other belief system. Unless of course their belief includes blowing people up in the name of religion or killing people because they are somehow inferior to you. In which case they’re drunk with a belief and can’t see outside the box. And assholes.

There is a point to be made however. Along with certain belief systems comes a set of rules. Rules are great as they can provide a system within which one can thrive. However they are a bit like inheriting a house. You can’t choose what the house looks like, unless of course you redo it, in which case it’s no longer the same house. You have two choices. Sell the house and reap the benefits, or convince yourself you actually like it. Possibly that style home will even be adapted as your own taste.

Rules are given. They can be dropped, or they can be adopted as your own. Which means you must come to terms with those rules. You must adapt them as your own, otherwise you’re simply a slave to those rules.

The thing with adopting rules as your own is that coming to terms with rules may not necessarily include truly believing in them. You can just begin following and becoming comfortable with those rules, but then you won’t be thinking for yourself.

Take morals for instance. What is moral and what is immoral? According to the Jewish religion if you see something that belongs to your friend laying around, and you know that person wouldn’t mind, you still can’t use it because you don’t have explicit permission. Now most people would agree there’s nothing wrong with using it. So if you’re going to follow a rule blindly, being a moral person doesn’t actually mean you’re moral. It means you DO MORAL THINGS. The morals of an institution can create the same effect on a person as alcohol. It can create a illusion of safety, provide a mask with which to hide behind.

The more one figures out what ones comfort zone is, the more creative he’ll think. The realization that you can do what you want is freeing. Obviously if everyone yells at you that you’re doing the  wrong thing, in all likelihood you are. Common sense is a prerequisite to all. But the greatest people in history have always been those who thought out of the box. Created their own success. Those who didn’t say I want be successful, but I WILL be successful. Obviously you may not end up reaching your goal but if you don’t believe you will, you won’t. If you believe you will, you may.

Energy is out there you just gotta capture it, and allow it to help you break free of the constraints of the masses plodding along through  life. So many people I met had resumes that said one thing about them: They’re a robotic douche with no ambition, they can use excel and worked at a Fortune 500 company. Not saying I’m any better, but at least I don’t pretend. Nah I kid, I’m way better. I’m awesome.