I was born in my mother's bed and she's blamed me for the mess ever since. My fondest childhood memories include my father trying to convince me heroin's not addictive, cutting my foot on my mother's coke razor and my sister kicking me through a plate glass window. After attending several band camps (yes I really went to band camps and no, no one was having sex, contrary to popular belief) I finally graduated high school and started attending New York University. New York City has been good to me. I graduated last year and am working in TV/Film production on and off (mostly off). The Summer After Senior Year I graduated NYU last year with a degree in creative writing, no job prospects and 0 in the bank. The first thing I did was break someone's camcorder filming my graduation party, so there went 300 of the 800 bucks. Manhattan studio apartments cost over a thousand dollars, so I had to move in with my mom. My mom is from Wisconsin but "oh so conveniently" moved to New York the summer before my senior year. Yeah right, mom, you got a new "job." We all know you've got that killer crush on me. But I already HAVE a girlfriend. Her name's Patty, she's 52 and the mother of two college-aged boys. So were I to move in with my mother, I would be close enough to New York City that everything should be fine, I thought at the time. I was so naive. My mother lived and worked on Long Island. She took her car with her to work every day, leaving me with one means of transportation—a 1970s era Schwinn racing bike. I would have to bike the half hour ride to the Long Island Rail Road and then take a forty-five minute train into Manhattan. And the only way I can mount a bicycle is by riding a horse to the bike and then jumping off the horse onto the bike. And, boy, was my mom's horse slow! Mom, if you're reading this, Raider stinks. It's time to move on. My mom let me live at her house rent free as long as I did some chores—wash the dishes, walk her dog and take out the trash. Washing the dishes was easy, though pretty strange. In between all the plates and cups I'd find used condoms and a vibrator. Every day. Usually there weren't too many dishes, the condom wasn't filled with that much cum and the vibrator was only covered with a little blood. Like I said, pretty darn easy. Walking my mom's dog was a little more trying. First of all, the dog's named "I'm Gonna Rape Little Kids," so whenever she'd run away and I'd run after her, yelling her name, the parents in the neighborhood would call the cops. Also, "I'm Gonna Rape Little Kids" didn't really have control of his bladder, so when he would lift his leg to pee he'd get it all over my pants and face. And I HATE it when I get pee in my face!! That's why I never joined the army to begin with. Taking out the trash was the most difficult chore of them all, though, because…well, cuz it was stinky and sorta heavy. I guess in the grand scheme of things, it was the least difficult chore. I just don't feel like going back and correcting the paragraphs above. My mom eventually got sick of me "leeching," saying things like "I didn't breast feed you when you were a baby so, no, I won't breast feed you now." Bitch. How am I supposed to get my milk now? Anyways, she hooked me up with this temp agency called Temps By Suzanne (which does NOT sound like the name of a fancy callgirl service at ALL). After a grueling 20 hour interview (actually, I just fell asleep in their lobby, but no one will be the wiser) I was hired! They placed me in the perfect job for a comedy writer—a fundraising organization for cancer research!! My job was to print out résumés of people who were applying my position. I was supposed to work a month, but my bosses fired me after a day because, unlike them, I was not a bitter lesbian. After that, I sat on my hands and knees and prayed until I got my paycheck for my day's work - a juicy seventy dollars ... all mine! I took my girlfriend's sons out for some steaks and a couple rounds of bud light…they ended up leaving early because they had to get up in the morning for their paid investment banking internships. My boys, how fast they grew up. I eventually got a job (which will actually be over by the time this sees print…so people, I'm looking!!) in October. But I'll never forget my summer after senior year!! Posted by Lukas Kaiser on July 23,2005 ref http://www.collegehumor.com/