80 Million Lazy Idiots Still Disappointing

Good morning, my fellow gaggle of bleary-eyed, slack-jawed millennials. I can only assume you are reading this in your Spongebob boxer shorts while you wait for your mother to fix the pile of Mickey Mouse pancakes you sent back because the chocolate chips were asymmetrical. I hope you have a good view of the liberal arts degree you keep hanging askew above the wood stove in your parents basement, because the word is out. Your fancy college education is stupid. You will never change the world. You suck. And you should feel bad about how much you suck.

Now that we have the small talk out of the way we can move on to discuss all the reasons you suck. Let's set the record straight. You simply don't measure up to the generations whose shoulders you rest your fat ass on. Your grandparents worked their fingers to the bone building this country from the ground up. They saved bent nails in coffee cans, worked dangerous jobs in factories, and survived on pennies and beans and they were considered lucky to have both.

Your parents built the comfortable, white-picket-fence-enclosed-nest you can't seem to leave, and they did it by the time they were your age. And they had kids while they did it. Spoiled, ungrateful leech-like excuses for children. Armed with nearly free bachelor's degrees, our parents' generation perfected American capitalism and single-handedly turned this country into the beacon of perfection it is today. What have you done lately? Did you manage to beat your high score in Candy Crush, today? I did.

The more I read about the millennial generation, the more I realize that we are regularly being defined by what we aren't. The general consensus cries that we are nothing like the generations that came before us. For some vague reason we piss people off. We are disappointing our parents and our parents' friends who never had kids, but are nevertheless frustrated with us.

This played-out generation bashing by the older folks in our lives is becoming less creative by the day. We can't cook. We can't dress appropriately. We boast the business savvy of a hamster. We cannot advocate for ourselves unless there is an app for advocating. We are not organized, professional, or punctual. Most recently we have inherited the lovely moniker, "Generation Wait." Too afraid to make any real moves in life, we are destined to perpetually hover in front of our laptops and wait for life to come to us. At least "The Peter Pan Generation" had a catchy ring to it.

As Time famously informed the world, the "Me Me Me Generation" certainly doesn't give a rat's ass about anything besides ourselves. We can't buy anything without a co-signer unless it is edible. We can't manage a home, let alone a business. We can't invest and we certainly can't save. We are a generation characterized by inability and exclusion. As a member of this generation, I'd like to take a moment to define myself by explaining what I'm not, if for no other reason than to separate myself from you filthy loafers.

I do not depend on my family or friends for financial support. I own my car. I do not wear my pants below my waist. I am not lazy and I certainly do not define friendship through the click of a button. I am not unemployed and I haven't been since I was fourteen years old. I do not break the law, nor have I ever received so much as a speeding ticket.

I don't text and drive because I am not that coordinated and because it is dangerous. I never bypass a person in need, and I never post my needs online looking for sympathy. I have never waited in line for the release of a new phone, video game, or i-whatever. Although I wouldn't argue against it, I do not expect the world to hand me a career or a comfortable life.

Most importantly, I am not a scapegoat for the failings of previous generations. I am not disillusioned about the adversity my generation will face in the years to come. I am not misinformed or under-educated. I am not a product of any other time period and I am incapable of being such.

I am, however, rocking my part-time job like no other, and my unpaid internship even promised to give me college credit this semester. And even though I have been laid off three times since I graduated in 2007, I'm feeling pretty optimistic.

So suck it, you old farts.