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Kids, Rihanna and safe sex.

I’m an old timer. I grew up with John Travolta. Olivia Newton John was pretty hot in those days. Sarah Jessica Parker was half a dozen plastic interventions younger. Ford Capri’s were hip, fast cars, and listening to Survivor on your Sony Walkman was beyond freezing cool. You could go out in jeans, and white socks. My biology teacher did –red-headed– unspeakable things with a banana and pre-formed rubber in front of the class room and called it sexual education. We wrote letters and love poems. We earned our first head-aches through beer.

Today’s kids go on Bacardi Breezer and Vodka Red Bull. They eat fat free, lactose free, sugar free, meat free, healthy, responsible, bio-degradable food. They prefer Beyoncé’s derrière to Olivia’s spandex. They do listen to i-Music on a plethora of i-Machines. They do skateboards and electric bikes.

But… they did listen to the teacher with the banana. Farrokh Bulsara, also known as Freddy Mercury did not.  They speak more languages, they learn faster. I’ll go all Jezza Clarkson on this: stupid generation. Let’s hate them (a bit).

 

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