People Better Than They Think They Are

I read blogs, news sites, parody sites, newspapers, and even watch a little tv. I have found that there is one common denominator among them all. They all try to tell people that they need help, that they aren't good enough, and that the world will give them a free lunch if they cry loudly enough. I know I sound like a cold hearted bastard, but let me tell you my story.

I was a bad kid who grew up with a great mom who loved me and worked her ass off to make sure that we kids never knew how poor we really were. She worked crap minimum wage jobs during the year and then froze her ass off stripping tobacco in the winter so that we would have Christmas presents to open. I didn't make that any easier for her by being a crap kid that couldn't stay out of trouble. I watched my mom go from welfare mom, to college graduate in just a couple of years and then life got easier.

As I got older, freedom called out to me and I moved away from home. I lived in a one bedroom trailer out of state with 5 other guys and whoever else needed a place to crash. We had the quintessential party house. Drugs and women, women and drugs. It was truly a beautiful thing. I lived there for a year and then moved back in with mom. Now mom is great, but with the time I was away, she got used to not having me, the smart-assed kid around. So I moved in with my grandma. Then one day my ex-girlfriend from out of state called me and asked if she could come up. I told her she could, but we couldn't stay at my grandma's. We had a little bit of money so she, her friend, and I rented a hotel room. I got a shit job as a waiter so that I could use my tips to pay for the hotel daily. She got a job at a convenience store and that's where the proverbial shit hit the fan. We robbed that place.

With the $8000 we got, we bought a piece of crap car for $400 and sped off to desinations unknown, which ended up being Canada. We lived there for a year, surviving off of what we could steal. Finally, with my assumed name, I got a job, and promptly got caught as an illegal alien. Now let me just take this second to sing the praises of the Canadian penal system. They put me in this cell block that had a big 'ol tv room with armchairs, great food, and free smokes. I dragged out my stay for a couple of months because it was wintertime in Manitoba and frankly, it was fucking cold. Finally I made a deal that would put me over the border into North Dakota with a light windbreaker, no money, no hat, and no way home. When I say they put me over the border, I mean that they drove me to the Canadian border, put me on the American side, and left me. Apparently, near the border, no one wants to pick up a hitchhiker because I walked a good 70 miles until I got a ride.

Now at this time, I was convinced that I couldn't go home, so I headed for San Fransisco, California. The weather there would be constantly bearable and there would be some public assistance that I could get so that my lazy ass wouldn't have to work. So after much hitchhiking around the Midwest, I finally made it to California. After a few days, I had discovered public assistance and intravenous drugs. I also found someone who was willing to let me sell drugs for them. I was a great drug dealer, and I could have made a lot of money, but I spent it all on the same drugs I was selling, crystal meth. I slept on the sidewalk for a year. I stayed jacked up on dope for 3 years. I eventually worked my way up to selling pounds of the stuff a week. I made enough so that I could stay high on drugs all I wanted and could afford a one room studio in Pacific Heights for a whopping $1200 a month rent. After that fell through, and it always does with easy money, I was back on the street. Finally I decided at the age of 22 to get my ass off drugs and move back home, come what may. I got a job as a security guard at a church and with my first check, bought a bus ticket back to Kentucky.

It was when I got back that I started working at crap factory jobs. I couldn't make enough money to live on, so I had to live with my mom. That didn't last long. I eventually met a girl and moved in with her. We stayed together for 4 years. In that time she made sure to write a bad check nearly every day. I finally got rid of that mess and met the girl of my dreams. We moved in together and I decided to get my ass back in school and study my passion, technology. I graduated Summa Cum Laude after one year of study and landed a job with a prominent web hosting firm where I am now. I've been married for 2 years, together for 3. I am making enough money to live comfortably, and life is good.

I tell you all this to make the point that, if I can do it, anyone can. I was the laziest son-of-a-bitch that you ever met. I never depended on anyone for anything. I used my public assistance money to buy drugs, and nothing more. With enough determination, anyone can make it. ANYONE! This is why I have no sympathy for anyone who hasn't figured it out yet. With just a little perseverance, anyone can succeed. You just have to be willing to have less for a little while. Most people can't do that. The immediate satisfaction of getting things the easy way is too strong. People don't need a helping hand as much as they need tough love. Then, live or die, come what may, it's their fault. Yes life can deal you some major shit, it's how you deal with it that makes all the difference in the world!