Dangerously Overeducated

Let's talk about student loans for a moment...

I had a thorough reality check a few weeks ago when CitiBank reared its ugly head to inform me of my future student loan payments effective December 2008. I graduated with my Masters from New York University, and do not regret one red cent. However, what...the...f*$%?! Why is my student loan a baby mortgage? Why in this society - where one degree is only good enough for a job until your next degree, which gets you a better job - do we have to pay so damn much to go to school?

Now I know what alot of you are thinking: why the hell did you go back to school? For those who chose to end it at Bachelors and toss confetti, I salute you. Finishing college is a feat in and of itself, but me, I love school. I do. As weird as that may sound, I truly love to learn, and before this f*$%ery of a loan payment, I was well on my way to a PhD. I guess for now I am going to settle for a Playa Hatin' Degree, since that is about all I can afford at this point. Bushy wushy dropped my interest rates apparently to like 3% as opposed to 65% or something, which was nice of his bomb-dropping arse, but it still doesn't make up for the fact that my monthly payments are equal to the price of a Louis Vuitton bag (not even a clutch, we're talking a Damier Canvas Speedy 30 plus tax and the cost of shipping to Zagreb with overnight delivery). Fear not, though. I have devised a plan to effectively pay my huge loan in a timely manner without compromising my dignity:


Roofies. I'm takin' it back, y'all.

Ladies, we have feared rohypnol ever since we set foot on a college campus. It's the reason why we babysit our drinks and when a guy offers to buy us one, we follow him with binoculars, a microscope and our best friend disguised as a bartender. Also known as "the date rape drug," roofies has starred in more Lifetime original movies than Meredith Baxter Birney and Candace Cameron combined. So I say, ladies, let's use this drug to our advantage in the lucrative field of prostitution!

We don't need a "boss" because ladies is pimps too (go on brush your shoulders off). Get on the corner in your most promising Pretty Woman-inspired outfit (think less Vivian, more Kit DeLuca) and find a gentleman caller. When you hop in his Hyundai, tell him you need a drink to "loosen up." While you're sitting with your drinks, say "Oh hey! My underage cousin Tina wants in too" and he'll promptly turn around. That's when you drop in the roofies. Put like six in so he knocks out quickly. Bring a Wii to the hotel room and wait the few hours until he wakes up. When he does wake up say, "OMG that was amazing...and that'll be $125." By then, it'll be plenty of time to have one of your male friends waiting in the closet with a baseball bat in case the customer acts funny style. Pay $25 to your boy for staying in the closet for so long (not like how record labels pay their male artists...that's a different closet), and you keep the $100. Do that scheme until your loan is paid. Voila! See that's why I have a Masters in business. Mogul in the making.