I kind of felt bad for the poor 23-year-old saps in this book who throw away two years of their lives to earn $200k a year and (if they’re lucky) a lifetime of financial stability. Then I remembered that they make $200k a year and will have a lifetime of financial stability, and felt less sorry for them.
Not essential reading by any means, but it’s a fairly interesting snapshot of today’s Wall Street, which is quite different from Wolf of Wall Street. Unfortunately. That book was probably more fun to read.

I kind of felt bad for the poor 23-year-old saps in this book who throw away two years of their lives to earn $200k a year and (if they’re lucky) a lifetime of financial stability. Then I remembered that they make $200k a year and will have a lifetime of financial stability, and felt less sorry for them.

Not essential reading by any means, but it’s a fairly interesting snapshot of today’s Wall Street, which is quite different from Wolf of Wall Street. Unfortunately. That book was probably more fun to read.

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I wish I were friends with Drake, because if he was supposed to meet me for dinner, and I got there early, I could text him, “Started from the bottom now we here at the restaurant.”

And when he got to the restaurant, we’d laugh and laugh!!

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This is all true. I was in the parking lot of my supermarket when I saw an Asian dude getting on a Kawasaki Ninja. I started laughing immediately at how ridiculous it was — does he not know how this looks? An Asian guy riding a motorcycle named after a horrible stereotype?

All I could do was shake my head at his stupidity. I just got into my Chevy Investment Banker and drove away.

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We be all night

I totally identified with that line in “Drunk in Love” where Jay Z’s bragging about how he and Beyonce got carried away having sex and she “fucked up my Warhol” because one time in college, I was making out with this girl up against a wall, and she crumpled up one of my Ansel Adams posters (the one with the tree), and I was out like 15 bucks.

I never saw her again, and I wonder if she knows she owes me fifteen dollars.

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I bought a ticket to see the movie (in theater #9), but instead I just stood outside of the theater and laughed at this sign the entire time it was playing. I couldn’t believe it! 
Wes Anderson, you’ve done it again!!!!

I bought a ticket to see the movie (in theater #9), but instead I just stood outside of the theater and laughed at this sign the entire time it was playing. I couldn’t believe it!

Wes Anderson, you’ve done it again!!!!

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I think the most interesting part of this book is that the female author clearly used a brain GoPro to see what young men were thinking, and then used that information to make herself money off of a book. Because I’m not sure how she got access to these thoughts otherwise.

I think the most interesting part of this book is that the female author clearly used a brain GoPro to see what young men were thinking, and then used that information to make herself money off of a book. Because I’m not sure how she got access to these thoughts otherwise.

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I can’t be the only person in the world who, when they put their laundry in their dryer on the Delicate cycle, immediately starts singing that Damien Rice song “Delicate” and then begins crying on their wet laundry over lost love and how sad that song is, and then puts on every bit of wet clothing and cries it out. Cries it out real good.

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Just do it

SCENE: on the phone with my mom
Me: Hey mom. How're you?
Mom: I'd be better if you gave me some goddamn grandkids.
Me: I told you mom, women do not find me to be "marriage material."
Mom: Who said anything about getting married? Is it so hard to get a woman pregnant? I've seen Teen Mom. It doesn't look that difficult if some broke, stupid teenagers can do it.
Me: I'm not talking about this with you.
Mom: When's the last time you went to a bar to meet a woman?
Me: I don't know, last night?
Mom: Did you even talk to a woman?
Me: I hung out with my girlfriend.
Mom: Oh, Miss Barronness?
Me: Why do you call her that, again?
Mom: Because she's practically barren. What is she, 43?
Me: She's 29.
Mom: Same difference. She doesn't even like you.
Me: She's into me!
Mom: When her friends aren't around and she can use you like a goddamn checkbook.
Me: I take her to Aruba one time, and suddenly I'm not supposed to trust her?
Mom: I don't see any babies and you've been together how long? I don't trust her.
Me: Two years. We've been together two years, mom.
Mom: I have two years worth of birthday gifts for your unborn children that are collecting dust in my attic. Why don't you call me back when you're able to impregnate someone?
Me: It might be a while.
Mom: I can't wait a while.
Me: You're going to have to.
Mom: I'm going to send you some Teen Mom DVDs for inspiration. What's your address again?
Me: I live with dad. You know the address.
Mom: Jesus, no wonder you're not getting laid.
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I’ll take one of everything

I was in a good mood walking to the supermarket the other day. It doesn’t usually happen that way. I think of buying groceries as a chore, instead of a fucking glorious honor I’ve been bestowed by being lucky enough to be born into this country.

Anyways, I was walking, and a 10-year-old girl in full Girl Scouts regalia walks beside me.

"Would you like to buy some Girl Scout cookies?" she asked.

I don’t reply to someone I don’t know in public. I learned to block out my surroundings when I lived in New York, when even something as harmless as a 10-year-old Girl Scout trying to sell you cookies is probably a front for some 57-year-old perv who bought a uniform on eBay and is trying to scam you.

In that moment, something about her voice made me melt. I was in a good mood, like I said.

"On my way out," I replied. I was going to buy them on my way out? What? The words tumbled out of my mouth. I have no idea where they came from. I didn’t even think them.

I have never bought Girl Scout cookies before. I had no intention of buying them that night.

But it was only after she ran back to her parents, and I could hear her say from 20ft away without even having to turn around, “Mom, he said he’d buy some on the way out!”

At that point, I didn’t even care if she was a 57-year-old perv in a uniform. She had my money.

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Need to know if Brian Austin Green fans call themselves “B.A.G.heads.” Email me if you know. Thanks. Let me know soon though. Today, please.

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