Moderate (snerk) for references to alcoholic consumption. The poem as I had crafted it is the young and dumb of today just become the old and still dumb tomorrow; nothing really change, time doesn't solve immaturity alone et al. Given tomorrow I'm becoming less and less of my early twenties I'm at a half-way point of meeting different people to socialize. The attitude is the same chronotic self-righteousness because the others are old-farts or young-braggarts.

My Sympathies aren't with any generation in particular, as Cheese and Wine parties cater to their own mixed brand of pretentious prats that I'll gladly be tarred and feathered with. (In whatever name of which charity we're doing the snob art drive for to excuse this as performance with a good cause.)