Get Off My Lawn

So thrilled to be fourteen

Of course teenagers are stupid—that’s why we call them teenagers. True, they seem eloquent whenever they shoehorn those big spelling words into normal conversation (without any regard to contextual accuracy—you don’t need to ameliorate a situation when you can simply resolve it, m’kay?), but mostly we just pretend they’re smart because we don’t want to fight. Read between the lines, kiddies: When we say you’re “our” future, we don’t mean society’s. We mean work your way up to the middle, then get a job just adequate enough to claim us on your insurance. On some level, an inexperienced poker player is bluffing every hand for the simple fact he doesn’t know how make a serious bet. This is the core problems with teens, as well—you know the rules, but not the game; the notes but not the music.

I realize how this reads. I know it’s the role of the previous generation to decry the values of the next, but I assure you I’m not playing the curmudgeon card. An adolescent reading the above paragraph might dismiss me as having lost touch with my youth, yet the opposite couldn’t be more true. I remember very distinctly what it is to be fifteen. Certainly, I remember being fifteen way better than you fifteen-year-olds remember being forty. Get my point? Why do you so adamantly reject the advice of someone who has twice lived your life plus a decade? Because it makes too much sense? Go spelunking in that cave of pig shit you call a room and fish out your listening ears.

I’m not speaking to anyone directly (if this sounds personal, congratulations on adhering to the stereotype), this is just the culmination of my thoughts from recent readings on Facebook. As the wannabe “cool” mom trying to take an active interest in both her kids and their hanger-ons, I get a daily dose of teenage shenanigans in my News Feed and—like the pirate with a steering wheel in his pants—it’s driving me nuts. I think I need to write a very thick book of excellent advice for adolescents, then just beat the living shit out of them with it.

Mock Frito-Lay Dip

Snacks as food (i.e. teen grub)

• 15 oz can pinto beans, drained
• 1/4 cup jalapenos, jarred or canned
• 4 oz cream cheese
• 2 cups shredded Mexican blend cheese
• 1 tbsp taco seasoning

Puree beans and jalapenos in food processor. Add bean mixture, taco seasoning and cream cheese to sauce pan, and cook on medium heat, stirring often, until cream cheese is melted. Stir in shredded cheese and continue to stir until all the cheese is melted. Transfer to a serving bowl and serve with Fritos or tortilla chips. Please do not use this as a snack for watching movies. You and your partner will eat the entire bowl. And your assholes later? Unappreciative.

Since teenagers refuse to read anything not typed by their thumbs, I know my proposed self-help book wouldn’t actually benefit anyone. Have some Cliff’s Notes, instead: Life is not that complicated. Get up, work eight crappy hours, eat three decent meals, pinch one amazing loaf, rinse, repeat. Baldness is a hairstyle the way atheism is a religion, so lighten up on the bleach (no pun intended). Being horny does not mean you’re ready to be in love, and being cavalier about sex does not mean you’re ready to be a woman. Floss more. You aren’t really going to kill yourself. Suicide is so 80s, and you’re nowhere near cool enough to be retro. Stop picking at your face—Bill Murray is only beautiful on the inside. Your poetry sucks. And the only attitude worth copping is of gratitude, so please shut the fuck up and thank you kindly.

TWTG says, “I have a hot date with my desk and speed.”