Real Life: How Do I Do It? – Guy Edition

April 7th 2014

 Get a job.

Get married.

Be responsible.

And don’t fuck up.

I’ve heard this. You’ve heard this.

Whether you’re a guy.

Or a girl.

If it was recent. Or in the past.

We’ve all heard that 4 promise mantra we inadvertently made at the ripe age of 22.

Join the club.

Oh for sure.


And it feels a little weird.

And it feels a little scary.

And here’s why:

Brian and Olive present:

Real Life: How Do I Do It?—Guy Edition 

Picture this.

A man.

 Out of college.

 Hanging up his frat knowledge.


Useful stuff.


In trade for some straight real world intelligence.




Realizing. Gradually. That the grace period of “Oh he’s just kid!…” is reaching its goddamn expiration date.

So your first date went well then.

…Billy’s first business conference…could have gone…better…


And sometimes.

He just doesn’t know what to do.



But the timer starts anyway.

And you’re expected to figure out every.damn.thing by the end of it.



 Find a career.

“Settle down”

Become a husband.

A father.

A tee ball coach.

A decision maker.

A household provider.

Then be more.

Much. Much. More.

  Put your education to good use:

Student loans = worth it.

Student loans = worth it.


And find yourself a nice lady friend

Worth the wait.

There she is.


To bring home to mom and dad.

Because if you’re just sitting over there? Like:

Wait...I haven't even thought about lunch yet.

Wait…what. I haven’t planned farther than Taco truck Tuesdays.


Then you’re apparently doing it. All. Wrong.




Thing is.

You’re seemingly expected to flawlessly cruise from boyhood >>>> to adulthood.

Without taking one goddamn turn.

This is going so well.

Going well.


Whether we try to starve it off with graduate school or some casual “time off.”

We somehow emerge into the real world.

Where rainbows are cued.


But actually aren’t.


Because it sucks.

The expectation that is.


 Because you know what isn’t free? Food. Houses. Cars. Concerts. Books. Internet. Snacks. For one.


Taco Tuesday got a little out of control #25tacos

Because apparently, EVERYTHING COSTS MONEY.


But why is this budlight $5.


And you know what else sucks? For men? We’re supposed to provide that shit for ourselves AND everyone in our lives.

Apparently everything is my treat.

Apparently my treat. All the time.


And even though it’s the 21st century.

And women are our equals.

We still pick up the checks. Attempt to develop a career before we hit 30. Make a kid. Then support it. Manage our household. Fix a bunch of shit. And the list goes






Just  s-p-e-l-l-i-n-g  out the goddamn truth.

But listen.

Having a wife, a mini-me and a dog sounds like a damn good time for the average, well-adjusted man.

Finally the moment I've been waiting for.

I’ve waited my whole life for this.


But getting there? Isn’t always simple. And isn’t always easy.

Because that shit’s not formulated. And it’s allowed to be confusing. And fun. And different. Than everyone else.

Because quite frankly, if we all had the same story.

Then we’d never have good stories to tell.



Maybe you’re the guy who found a great job and a great girl rather quickly. And you’re living that life that seems really fruitful. And seems really nice.

Or maybe you’re the guy who picked up and moved to the big city. Just to try it out. To see what happens. And go with the flow.

Or maybe you’re the dude who thought he knew what he wanted. And maybe a break up. A job change. Or a sudden realization later. You decided. You just want something else.

No you just need to be fed.

No you just need to be fed, Teddy.

So the real life: How do you do it?

Should you hurry the fuck up so you’re not second best to Jimmy? Mr. Do-Right? You know. That guy.Who knits his own fucking sweaters.


Fuck you, Jimmy.


Whilst accounting for a Fortune 500 company. Drives a Prius. Gardens. Does yoga. And likes that shit. The guy who has mothers holding weekly drawings to set their daughters up with that sonofabitch? (He sucks.) (But you kinda like him) (But don’t tell anyone.)

Here’s the big tester. To start you off. To figure out if you’re doing alright. Or, if you really are at the satisfactory end.

If you can wake up every day, and feel good about where you are? And what you’re doing?

Then you’re winning.

Big time.

Because believe it or not, the real world isn’t just measured by the paychecks or the girl you bring home.

And truth be told, there are infinite amount of men who have both of those things.

And wake up every day feeling great about where they are. And what they’re doing.

But not all of them.

Because you can have both those added pleasures.

And still feel incomplete.

And also be without them.

And be feeling just fine.

Thing is.

Desired things can never really be timed. But they can sure as hell be earned.

And they’ll happen. Even if it takes few extra years.

And the road to get there will be one hell of an adventure. As it should be. And I simply cannot wait. But even when you get there. Through rocky financials, messed up relationships and all. And you suddenly find yourself being the beer-bonging Natty Ice guy that kicks ass at taxes and golfing with glorified CEO’s. And you’re a soccer coach too. And a responsible father. Who mows the grass. As a weekend highlight.

Realize that. Getting “there”? Is completely relative to who you are. And what you want. And it absolutely. Positively. Will not happen over night.

It doesn’t have to.

And it never will.

Where’s the fun in that anyway?

 But when it does happen.

“There” doesn’t have to mean the end.

Not even close.

Because continuing to be a badass. Better yourself. Have the patience to figure shit out. Or just damn appreciate what you have.

Is on your watch.

And nobody else’s.

And if you can realize that? Accept that? And own that shit? Like you normally do?

Then you, my friend, are doing just damn fine.

Time’s up.