Gonna crank up O Holy Night to beat back their Satan vibes

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5652075&forum_id=2Elisa#48468901)

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An xo poster's week, part 1, conservative version:

You rise at the crack of dawn Monday morning, ready to seize the day in the USA. You lift heavy while enjoying an amazing view, do some sprints in your giant backyard, then enjoy a hearty protein shake and a breakfast of affordable and delicious bacon and eggs courtesy of the greatest farming system in the world. You have a pleasant commute thanks to your American luxury automobile while streaming an informative, inexpensive audiobook. You arrive at your high-paying but relatively relaxed job and settle into your corner office. You're still a young guy, but those quantitative skills have sure paid off already.

You casually send a few emails and check your stock portfolio. Nice. In the mood for some casual entertainment, you check the front page of Jezabel, shaking your head with detached amusement at the antics of the loonies. After lunch with your boss, where you graciously accept his kudos on your most recent report, you spend the afternoon keeping abreast of current affairs and perusing a few of the top journals of economic scholarship, which you are capable of easily understanding due to your economic literacy. Your efficiency and talent allow you a few minutes here and there to blow off steam on xo throughout the workday. When your head hits your pillow that night after banging your gorgeous wife, you sleep the sleep of the just.

Tuesday-Friday are pretty much the same. You've got a routine that's taking you to the top, why change it? But despite the pleasures of dominating corporate America, when Friday afternoon rolls around, you're still pretty happy. Your thoughts turn to the good old days of being the BMOC at a top-tier state school. Accepting that big scholarship and getting a finance degree were no-brainers, and best of all, you had a blast doing it, got laid constantly, and eventually found not only your dream girl, but a circle of lifelong friends. You can't wait to take your wife and young son on a little roadtrip this weekend. You'll tailgate with the old gang, toss the pigskin around with your boys, and maybe even teach your kid how to throw a spiral. It's a little early to tell, but you think he might have his old man's athleticism. Needless to say, you're not on the internet much during the weekend.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=2495136&forum_id=2#25023541)

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An xo poster's week, part 2, liberal version:

You wake up at 11:30 on Monday morning, sluggish until your dope-addled brain jolts awake with the realization that today's the day your unemployment/welfare check will arrive. You pull on some skinny jeans and stumble across the filthy Williamsburg street to pay $4.00 for organic coffee and pretend to read Madness and Civilization while keeping an eye out for the mailperson. The mail is late, as usual, but you recognize that your mailperson of color and size, who presents as superficially female, is doing (z)her (?) best on a shamefully low public-sector salary in a universe of privilege. When the mail finally arrives, you pedal your fixie to the nearest place you can get it cashed, resenting your forced reliance on the social constructs of money and banking.

Cash in hand, you use your Obamaphone to text your drug dealer's Obamaphone, then pedal over to his place to pick up a week's supply of grass and smack. You then return to your shithole apartment (cool location, though, you remind yourself, definitely worth what your parents are spending on it) to get high and watch cartoons. Later that night you rise from your stupor to buy a $14.99 6pack of Brooklyn Lager from the organic corner bodega and invite over one of your male fuck buddies.

Tuesday-Friday are pretty much the same. You're lazy and directionless, and life is unfair due to the 1%, so why bother trying to change? But despite the pleasures of sloth and degeneracy, when Friday afternoon rolls around, you're NOT happy. Your thoughts turn to the high point of your life, getting accepted to Amherst. Going there and getting a degree in Gender Studies were no-brainers, but sometimes you wonder if your parents resent co-signing your student loans and supporting you into your early 30s. Worst of all, as usual, you've misbudgeted both your drug supply and your finances. You briefly wonder if it might be worth it to learn some basic financial and economic principles, but dismiss the thought immediately. It's going to be a dry weekend, and you know from past experience that neither your mom nor uncle sam are going to give you an advance on your allowance. Secretly, you also know that your gay "friends" only pretend to enjoy rimming and 69ing and buttfucking your pale skinnyfat body because you share your heroin. How to pass the time? You like getting offended, feeling morally superior, and shouting down opinions that disagree with yours. It reminds you of the good old days. Needless to say, you're on xo most of the weekend.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=2495136&forum_id=2#25023687)

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5652075&forum_id=2Elisa#48468936)