My address to the graduates

Good afternoon, graduates, faculty and family members forced to attend what is essentially the reading of a phone book for the next two hours.

By law I am required to start my commencement address with a pithy anecdote that reminds all of you that while you are about to receive a piece of paper that states that you are, in fact, intelligent in reality you have yet to learn anything about life. Here it goes.

A grasshopper walks into a bar. The bartender looks at him and goes, “Hey, do you know we have a drink named after you?” To which the grasshopper replies, “You have a drink named Steve?”

Note that this anecdote discounts such important facts as the vocal capabilities of grasshoppers, the naming convention of long legged insects and a bartender deeming it worthwhile to talk to a patron that has no visible ID or method of paying. Let this be your first post-collegiate lesson. Facts matter much less than the story.

I am also required to inform you of the limitless possibilities that await you. That your entire future is constrained only by your own desires. How the future of our very way of life and of human civilization as we know it will be crafted by your hard work, dedication and insight.

That is, of course, a bunch of crap.

You are all graduating into the worst economy in known existence. Most of you are destined to spending the foreseeable future living on your parent’s couch and updating your Facebook status on the pathetic state of your job search along with funny descriptions of what your cat is currently doing. Those of you who are lucky enough to be starting a new job will find that you will immediately placed in a box, slightly smaller than a prison cell, where the flickering overhead fluorescent lighting and ceaseless meaningless tasks will slowly drain you of your will to live until all you look forward to at the end of the day is going home and watching Two and a Half Men and as we all know that is a fate worse than death. And no matter how hard you try, you will never be more successful than that douchebag three rows in front of you whose dad just happens to own a dozen Kentucky Fried Chicken franchises.

I would like to tell you how bright your future is but let’s face it; nothing will ever top your time in college. The people you will meet in your new life will never be as interesting or intelligent as your classmates. No longer will you be able to schedule your life so that you will never be required to be anywhere before noon. The ownership of a beer bong will quickly go from impressive to disconcerting. Staying up all night will go from being status quo to an occurrence that results in you feeling like crap for week. You are all doomed to growing gray, pudgy and old.

So instead of my wasting my breath talking about a life you will never achieve I wish to provide the following pieces of wisdom that will allow you to make the time between now and the inevitable zombie apocalypse bearable.

Pilfer as many office supplies as is humanly possible. The sooner you realize that a laptop case is the exact same size as a pack of copy paper the better. It’s not like you are ever going to want to bring your laptop home, anyway.

Outsource as many activities as you can. Have someone else do your laundry, grocery shopping, and taxes so that you can focus on the more important things in life. If necessary, websites are available that will allow your dating life to be addressed without you even needing to lift a finger.

Whenever you move to a new town the first thing you need to do is become friends with a bartender. Some people would recommend getting a local doctor first but think about how often you are sick versus how often you are drunk. Easy decision to make.

When in doubt, go to graduate school. Nothing beats putting life on pause for a few years.

If you haven’t sold your textbooks you might as well do it now. Otherwise you will simply move them from place to place for the next twenty years, never opening them and slowly realizing that if you did you wouldn’t have a clue about what they say.

Never, under any circumstances, move to Delaware. Find another state. Denial is a good place to start.

Remember, you will need to either remove the head or destroy the brain. I cannot emphasize that enough.

In closing I would like us all to remember the grasshopper. Even though a tiny insect he was able to grasp that most vital piece of information in the world. That I really need a drink.