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Every time my parents call me a disrespectful little fuck (happens more than I’d like), I try to rebut but never can muster up a response. They’re right. This life of chronic partying has been served up on a silver platter, but what have I done to deserve it? It’s not just me, though. This whole generation of millennial trash has no respect. We’ve all been called one of those buzzwords at some point: entitled, spoiled, lazy. But how can I plead my case? How can any of us? It has been so easy while our parents had to really struggle.
My parents have worked extremely hard to get where they are. Honestly, my dad deserves the world’s biggest trophy because he paid for his school all on his own. So what if my laptop probably costs more than his whole first semester? It’s not his fault laptops weren’t invented yet, or maybe they were. I don’t know the timeline but let’s just say Steve Jobs was working in a garage somewhere. Either way, I’m proud of you, Dad. Not only the tuition, but you had textbooks, too. Real books that you had to go to the store and buy. You didn’t get to use these super simple access codes that expire after the semester’s end and have no tangible value. You had to open up real books and actually read them. So tough.
Mom and Pop didn’t have time for fun. You think they were out doing keg stands and experimenting with party drugs like typical hooligans? Hell no! This isn’t Animal House. They were out getting an education so that they could provide a better life for their children — that very same life that you are squandering away doing the activities that they abstained from.
Any college kid who asks their parents for a little bit of help nowadays is unreasonable. Especially with tuition that is 50 grand a year. Get a part-time job like Dad did. Should put a real dent in that shit.
P.S. To get that job you’re going to need three years of experience in the field, four references, a special talent, urine test, background check, and credit score above 720. Give up that social life, too. Good luck.
Parents are always complaining about how these damn kids have these cell phones now, too. Back in Dad’s day, the only way Mom could reach him was either in person or over the phone. No being able to talk 24/7? What a burden. What if she was mad at him? She had to actually take the effort to yell at him with her voice? No spending hours sending passive-aggressive text messages with lots of emojis that can’t be deciphered? That sounds awful.
Speaking of emojis, what a tragedy it would be to live without those. How would you know a girl was DTF without a smirky face? Did she just tell you or were you left to guess? Such a confusing world to live in.
And don’t even get me started on nudes. It must have been a nightmare to deliver those.
So ask yourself: What are you doing to make your kids’ lives better? Are you carving out their paths to success? All the beer bongs and shotguns are not helping their future, man. You have a job to do. Do the work now so that you can chirp your kids someday about their entitlement.
The point is that no matter how much we complain about it, our parents are right. We are entitled little shits that have had everything handed to us. We would have never survived back then. So the next time a girl sends boobs, you think about Dad and the sacrifices he made to get you here.
P.S. Dad, please still pay my tuition..
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