Fuck Wharton!

June 12, 2019

After I burned my acceptance letter to Wharton…I drove the ashes in one of my Porsches over to Sheila Starr Ashley’s house,  drove through her front window and dumped the ashes in her living room. I walked away and waited for the first Paoli local of the day to take me back downtown while the cop cars screamed by me.

It was the middle of the night and I was hammered…it was stupid, raw, visceral, impetuous and all that, but that was me and with me, that’s what you get.  I’m always going to be me for better or worse…she gave me a D- on my Hernan Cortes paper and I told her that I can’t have this because
A) I tried really hard
B) It wasn’t a D paper, maybe a B, C but not a D-
C) I needed a better grade to get into Wharton

She proceeded to tell me I would never get into Wharton…I don’t know to this day if she was motivating me or just being mean…maybe both, but she did teach me a valuable lesson that no one gives a fuck how hard you try, how much you care, or what it means to you and why. They care about results and that is FUCKING it.  You can spend your life commiserating about how unfair this or unfair that is, but you’re wasting your fucking time, time that could be and should be spent on fixing the situation but, don’t ever, ever tell someone want they can’t do…especially me. #gofuckyourselfhard

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