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I'm sick of hearing it now even more than when I was a supposed footloose and fancy-free teenager myself. Everyone loves to say how the punk teen kids
today with their hip hop and roll music and their faux hawk hair and Ed Hardy shirts and tribal arm band tattoos and goatees and ...wait a minute I lost myself.
Am I describing today's punk teens or today's douchebag thirty-somethings?
Wow, my generation really, really sucks. Maybe the generation prior to mine had some points back in the day.
Anyway, my current point is that everyone loves to say teens today don't have the discipline to follow through on anything and aren't willing to commit
what it takes to be successful in the things they pursue. Well, newsflash old fogey,
Amber
Boeckman had the discipline and commitment it takes to not only drive off the shoulder, but to stick with her shitty driving for over 300 feet before
crashing into the guardrail and perishing.
I was on that stretch of interstate and the shoulder had that safety grading that makes that loud KA-CHUCK-KA-CHUCK sound when your tires hit it to
let you know to get your drunken or sleepy or just plain shitty-driving ass back on the road. Amber though, pressed on. Soon the KA-CHUCK-KA-CHUCK
song was over and she was driving on the quiet, lush grass embankment--for over 300 feet as a matter of fact.
Now if my calculations are correct--which they are (remember, I'm the mathematical genius that gave the world
the ability to calculate how much any human shit (will shit) in their life)
-- and Amber was doing 55--which I am sure she was (how many 19 year olds at 2am drive at unsafe speeds?)--she travelled off the road for at least 3.7
seconds--and that's not including the time it took to get across the shoulder.
How's that for commitment and discipline. She didn't just swerve into the guardrail at the last minute, she took her time and enjoyed the drive to her death.
All you old people ragging on teens are looking pretty stupid right about now. Especially with those fucking Ed Hardy T-shirts, faux hawks, god damn tribal
arm band tattos and tired fucking goatees. You drive a mini-van for christ sake. Give it up, your youth's gone, you're not fooling anyone Fonzi.
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