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Stanford, okay so you’ve been to Stanford. Let it go!

April 18, 2015

My oncologist graduated from Stanford. Talk about the kiss of death. They always tell you they went to Stanford, Harvard, Yale. Their college. You don’t hear people saying, “Bowling Green in Red Bluff, or I was in Granada trying to pass my boards for the tenth time.” Well you do if you have Kaiser—where death is Permanente. I’d preferring a doctor from a less prestigious school. The schooling someone from a UC campus got’s the same stuff, but they lose their of their soul to pony up their tuition! But these college will bring their school up for no reason. “What time is it?” “Well when the sun came through the trees on the quad at Stanford it was 3 pm.” S-holes. They act arrogant, lift up their shirt, scratch their kin and you’ll find a red S with a tree logo. The only achievement you have before you did what your parents wanted you to do instead of living your own life. You might be stuck in college and going to watch freshmen football games when you’re 60 and still have you college textbooks on your bookshelf. But I graduated into living my own life, and we’re not on campus, and that’s a life I’m fighting for. You chose to be an oncologist, I didn’t chose to have cancer so I outrank you. You might have the clipboard but we’re working off my syllabus.

Come to think of it, maybe I lost my testicles because my oncologist didn’t like me.

It’s not my fault they’ve never accomplished anything else in their life to set them apart from others.

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