I walked May of 1998. I had "Show Me The Money" written on the top of my mortarboard/awesome hat. My family threw me a rager party in Jersey (Gram and Grandad showed up!). In DC they took me and my friends to the Cheesecake Factory to celebrate. I went to the same Cheesecake a year later and the valedictorian of my class, he was a mutha-fuckin' waiter there. And yes, immediately after the blessed event family members, parishoners, and close friends of family members did indeed show me the money. Talk about gettin' checks for drinking, smoking, and chasing two things: 1) ass and 2) extensions on papers. I was even listed on the school website in 03 as a celebrity alum. Chris Wylde - gameshow host. The year is now 2006. I realized something not long ago...

When you graduate, you get handed a thing. While you're handed that thing you shake hands with the dean, the presidents of school and university, et al. You even get your picture taken at the moment you get handed the thing. I, of course, opted not to shake hands but rather leap into the arms of president of the American University, Benjamin Ladner (now thrown out for embezzlement). A really queer photo was born that day that none may ever see. The thing that President Osama Ben Ladner (was calling him that in 97 son!) handed me before I assaulted him was not my diploma, friends. It should have been. It would have created a truly special moment. But it was just a thing a guy handed me that I think I even had to give back at the end. Yesterday it dawned on me, I never got handed a diploma. I never got a diploma.