the summer's almost over...
isn't that crazy? to think, in a few mere weeks folks will be headed back to school. some folks, such as i, will not be. i've come to shed some light on exactly what it is i will be doing in the next few months/years/decades. allow me to give a brief synopsis of my life to come.
August-December 2003 - I will work a part time job at a local eatery owned and operated by someone who knows someone who knows someone. I will somewhere round about the course of two to three months be fired from this job for repeatedly beating annoying customers over the head with a fry cooker basket thingy. In another realm of my life, I will record a subpar demo album consisting of 7 of my own weak and ineffectually sung original songs, 2 Jim Croce covers, a "hidden" techno bonus track, and a special enhanced CD portion including a PC screensaver and desktop theme. Roundabout November of 2003 I will be asked by a major record company to sign with them, even though my demo sucks. I will decline, and since I will have no music copyrights, they will steal my songs and lyrics and studio produce a less ugly looking pop friendly icon to perform my music. This person will gain the status and fame of a combination of Justin Timberlake and Bruce Springsteen, winning fame, teen hearthrobness, and notoriety for brilliant lyricism.
Meanwhile...round about January of 2004 to July of 2005....
I will be training for one of the most coveted military careers, the Special Forces of the United States Army. Somewhere in there, amongst other skills, I will gain fluency in speaking Arabic, know at least 7 efficient ways to kill a man bare handed, and know how to survive torture in a POW camp. Interest in the opposite sex will become the least prominent influencial circle in my life, because I will be too intrigued by my own badassness.
Once I'm done training, roundabout somewheres in 2005, I'll be flown off and parachute into the jungles of Columbia, where with a team of 11 other guys I will be part of history making in killing off the most prominent druglord in the Western Hemisphere. Unfortunately, because I won't be allowed to tell friends what kind of rowdy and violent stuff I get to do in the Army, no one will know except my superiors and teammates. The next 5 years of my life will be somewhat like this. I'll become a bitter but ironhearted, battlescarred warrior. By the time of my eventual return to "normal" society, I'll quickly decide to go back into the military. By this time, I'll have had radial keratonomy performed on my eyes and been given perfect 20/20 vision in both eyes. I'll start flying planes for the Airforce. Roundabout age 35 I'll get two job offers, one from NASA, and one from the CIA. Because flying stuff is gayer than shooting stuff, I'll take my job offer from the CIA and become an undercover international sexpionage agent, using my handsome, rugged allure to bag women all over the 6 inhabited continents. Then I'll remember that once I was a moral man, one of integrity. I'll quit my life of murder and intrigue and go back to the United States. I'll retire early off my pensions and live very simply in a wooden shack in the Appalachians, after I've returned to Raleigh or Greensboro for a time long enough to woo the woman who was supposed to be the love of my life, but I never knew cause she was casually doing some other guy back when I was thinking about logical things like marriage and family back in my early 20s. Both our lives turned around, we'll be too old to have kids like I had planned for myself long ago in the past, but that will be alright, since my sister will have like 5 kids, and they'll all be bratty enough that I'll decide I wouldn't have made a great father, because I'd probably punch my own kids in the face if they whined that much. Somewhere in my mid-40s I'll go back to school to major in English so I could learn how to avoid run on sentences. My wife would have been imploring me for quite some time to start work anyway, much to my chagrin and disappointment, since I had been semi-retired since age 19 anyway. The English major will work out great, because I'll finally feel motivated to do the things that I really enjoy. Namely, correcting other people's grammar, even though my own is horrible. I'll be a 12th grade teacher, because that was my favorite year of school, and 12th grade kids are slack, so my combination of military experience and grammar nazism would be guaranteed to whip them into shape, thereby ensuring that their 12th grade year was nowhere near as fun as mine was. Then, one of my stupid bratty columbine poser kids will bring a gun into school one day, in an attempt to shoot me, he'll forget that my badass Army background made me impervious to bullets. I'll deflect the shots from his puny little handgun, whip out my M-16 and shoot him between the eyes. He'll go down in a bloody mess, and I'll spend the rest of my life in prison...killing other inmates.
The End.
isn't that crazy? to think, in a few mere weeks folks will be headed back to school. some folks, such as i, will not be. i've come to shed some light on exactly what it is i will be doing in the next few months/years/decades. allow me to give a brief synopsis of my life to come.
August-December 2003 - I will work a part time job at a local eatery owned and operated by someone who knows someone who knows someone. I will somewhere round about the course of two to three months be fired from this job for repeatedly beating annoying customers over the head with a fry cooker basket thingy. In another realm of my life, I will record a subpar demo album consisting of 7 of my own weak and ineffectually sung original songs, 2 Jim Croce covers, a "hidden" techno bonus track, and a special enhanced CD portion including a PC screensaver and desktop theme. Roundabout November of 2003 I will be asked by a major record company to sign with them, even though my demo sucks. I will decline, and since I will have no music copyrights, they will steal my songs and lyrics and studio produce a less ugly looking pop friendly icon to perform my music. This person will gain the status and fame of a combination of Justin Timberlake and Bruce Springsteen, winning fame, teen hearthrobness, and notoriety for brilliant lyricism.
Meanwhile...round about January of 2004 to July of 2005....
I will be training for one of the most coveted military careers, the Special Forces of the United States Army. Somewhere in there, amongst other skills, I will gain fluency in speaking Arabic, know at least 7 efficient ways to kill a man bare handed, and know how to survive torture in a POW camp. Interest in the opposite sex will become the least prominent influencial circle in my life, because I will be too intrigued by my own badassness.
Once I'm done training, roundabout somewheres in 2005, I'll be flown off and parachute into the jungles of Columbia, where with a team of 11 other guys I will be part of history making in killing off the most prominent druglord in the Western Hemisphere. Unfortunately, because I won't be allowed to tell friends what kind of rowdy and violent stuff I get to do in the Army, no one will know except my superiors and teammates. The next 5 years of my life will be somewhat like this. I'll become a bitter but ironhearted, battlescarred warrior. By the time of my eventual return to "normal" society, I'll quickly decide to go back into the military. By this time, I'll have had radial keratonomy performed on my eyes and been given perfect 20/20 vision in both eyes. I'll start flying planes for the Airforce. Roundabout age 35 I'll get two job offers, one from NASA, and one from the CIA. Because flying stuff is gayer than shooting stuff, I'll take my job offer from the CIA and become an undercover international sexpionage agent, using my handsome, rugged allure to bag women all over the 6 inhabited continents. Then I'll remember that once I was a moral man, one of integrity. I'll quit my life of murder and intrigue and go back to the United States. I'll retire early off my pensions and live very simply in a wooden shack in the Appalachians, after I've returned to Raleigh or Greensboro for a time long enough to woo the woman who was supposed to be the love of my life, but I never knew cause she was casually doing some other guy back when I was thinking about logical things like marriage and family back in my early 20s. Both our lives turned around, we'll be too old to have kids like I had planned for myself long ago in the past, but that will be alright, since my sister will have like 5 kids, and they'll all be bratty enough that I'll decide I wouldn't have made a great father, because I'd probably punch my own kids in the face if they whined that much. Somewhere in my mid-40s I'll go back to school to major in English so I could learn how to avoid run on sentences. My wife would have been imploring me for quite some time to start work anyway, much to my chagrin and disappointment, since I had been semi-retired since age 19 anyway. The English major will work out great, because I'll finally feel motivated to do the things that I really enjoy. Namely, correcting other people's grammar, even though my own is horrible. I'll be a 12th grade teacher, because that was my favorite year of school, and 12th grade kids are slack, so my combination of military experience and grammar nazism would be guaranteed to whip them into shape, thereby ensuring that their 12th grade year was nowhere near as fun as mine was. Then, one of my stupid bratty columbine poser kids will bring a gun into school one day, in an attempt to shoot me, he'll forget that my badass Army background made me impervious to bullets. I'll deflect the shots from his puny little handgun, whip out my M-16 and shoot him between the eyes. He'll go down in a bloody mess, and I'll spend the rest of my life in prison...killing other inmates.
The End.
Nathan Prime 01:08
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