Originally Posted by scshift
I'm supposed to be building contacts and establish connections but alot of the people I deal with I really don't want to be dealing with. When you're trying to come up especially in the business path, having the right connections is important.
How do I balance this? I really can't stand some people and what they do but at the same time I feel they'll help me in the long run.
You cant be a nice guy in the business world. EVERYONE has to play the game at some point, dont be afraid to step on the court.
Hell, im one of the biggest shmoozers you'll meet. The key is to do it tastefully, and only sporadically (this way it seems genuine, despite your alterior-motive)
everyone uses someone at some point. Doesnt make you a bad person, it just means you're willing to step on a few toes as you run towards your dreams.
dear club,
my name is youngmoney, im 21 years old, and im simping hard for a 18 year old...
should i continue to simp?
the word "simp" is overused here.
if you're courting this girl, keep at it! You're older, you can legally drink, and you're (theoretically) more mature. Girls dig that nonsense.
Just make sure you make your intentions known early (before getting friendzoned)
Unfortunately, too many of us are afraid to go for our hearts desires.
Dont be afraid to stare down the barrel of a gun, laugh at the Grim Reaper, and pee into the wind.
Consequences are temporary, but the satisfaction of experience and triumph lasts a lifetime
The details of my life are quite inconsequential... very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical. Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds- pretty standard really. At the age of twelve I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum... it's breathtaking- I highly suggest you try it.
it sounds like your intimacy issues stem from a history of having a drunken father and an easy, web-toed mother.
this would screw anyone up.
