"Ain’t nobody king in this country"

After any inevitably ensuing graduate (unless they're one of those gaudy, pseudo Van Wilder types) leaves the institution of 'learn-ed' individuals, they find themselves in the transition phase. The transition phase encompasses the fundamentals of learning + the ambition elicited by capitalism/conditioned environment, which will eventually lead to one of two prospects; either an invigorating career with fulfilling highlights such as sporadic bonuses, worthwhile stock in an auspicious company and at some point, an interoffice copulative marathon with some buxom whore who believes that by gagging your Neapolitan-coloured tricky stick in her mouth will further her career. The other, less propitious prospect, would be what I refer to as the 'Bukowski route'. pause, pause, pause, pause, pause. Now take a 20 minute break. Sorry about that delay, I was just allowing a momentary interim for the underachieving, overachieving supporters of Tom's footwear to berate God's cock of literary inquisition about how Bukowski was this and that and how everyone secretly just romanticizes about being an old, scraggly German bloke with a penchant for whiskey and fat women who can write a solid prose. Has your heart rate slowed yet? Okay, thank you. The Bukowski route is the realization that, as Charles Bukowski (or as his nom de plume would state, Henry Chinaski) would state, 


"our educational system tells us
that we can all be
big-ass winners

it hasn't told us
about the gutters
or the suicides."

The 'gutters' are what lead us to the Monday to Friday, 9-5 monotony that lead to 39 year old women posting pictures of their bearded clam on Craigslist looking for a 'LTR' (which sounds like some kind of racing car, but is another one of the internet's lazy acronyms for Long Term Relationship). If said person cannot even be bothered to spell out long...term...relationship, let alone put a picture of her face (unless the prospective 'hubby' will be sleeping head to toe, therefore waking up to her bearded clam's breath, instead of her cock throat), then she is obviously not in the best of places in her life. This could also be referred to as 'the gutter'-thanks Bukowski, or Chinaski...ski ski ski skeet skeet skeet. Now, when a college graduate is approached by Mr. Omniscient who asserts the old "what do you really want to do?", the old chestnut "you are still young" and finally, "I know you will get a job"; these statements are not only severely unhelpful, but the "I know you will get a job" gem makes me want to gather together pointless titles such as Barista, vente and 'food expediter', create tangible icons for these titles (preferably manky fat women whose insecurities compel them to toss innocent cats into washing machines) and take the most mellifluous shit-piss in perfect synchronization in their mouths whilst vomiting the most bilious, abhorrent vomit onto their stomachs. The arrogance of these statements ("I know you will get a job"-it isn't a question of getting "a job", but "which job"). I don't mean to sound like an ungrateful, pompous college graduate because I understand that higher education is merely a 3-4 year period being droned out semester after semester, whilst is could realistically be completed in 2 years of arduous studying and cheaper financing options; fuck you higher education for making those without a certificate printed on bone feel inferior. Certificates and degrees, in their tangible forms, are a faux justification of thousands of dollars and potential STD's, whilst giving parents an excuse to buy new frames and new cars. The cap and gown is just as laughable, as is the italian scripture involved in these processes, the sudden amicable relationship that you have with your school after graduation (thanks for letting me graduate) and the fact that people buy into this societal compulsion of embracing a success that doesn't yet exist. Again, back to 'the gutters' point as I stated earlier, after graduating, unless you have a 'thanks Daddy' business to go into or a fall back option, you are merely in the gutter between the road to success, the road to nowhere and the pavement you have been sauntering along in a haughty blitz of youthful fucking and scantron testing. It is this gutter which makes me and other graduates in the same situation so uneasy. The Colleges wash their dicks of your feces and send you a few outstanding bills. All the while, you're sitting there like Dustin Hoffman from 'The Graduate", waiting for Anne Bancroft to come and supply you with a saucy form of escapism. On a final note, the whole "knowing what you want is half of the battle" quote should be left for b rate movies with Bollywood stars and Elijah Wood. I, just as many others, still don't know what I want, but I sure as hell don't want to take the 'Bukowski route' whilst quipping deadly cynical shite out of my mouth such as "Sometimes you just have to pee in the sink"- I think the 39 year old woman displaying her bearded clam on Craigslist would have been a perfect match for him.