Graduates, faculty, administration, parents, friends, distinguished guests, undistinguished guests, extinguished guests, hung-over siblings, adorably racist grandparents, children, adults, children who are stacked in trench coats to impersonate adults, adults impersonating children on the internet to arrest creeps, creepy uncles who are now quickly signing out of their chats, teens, tweens, Kathleen’s, and all other eens...good morning and congratulations to the graduating class of 2015.

You have all achieved something incredibly special here today. You should be very proud of yourselves! Not too proud though.

You finished your bachelor’s degree. It’s not like you cured cancer, won the Super Bowl, or finished reading the back of a Chipotle cup. So take it easy, pal.

My name is Ryan and I am your commencement speaker today. Now I’m sure you are asking yourselves, “What makes this guy qualified to give me life advice?” Well, to your point, I am not a particularly smart or wise man. For years I thought the word “faux” was pronounced “fox.” That doesn’t sound like that big of a deal until you step into a PETA meeting and announce to everyone, “Don’t worry this coat is made entirely out of fox fur!” I also recently nicknamed my own balls the Wrinkle-voss Twins. Needless to say, I am not a learned man.

I do not have amazing life experiences to draw upon either. I don’t own a successful business. I didn’t survive a terrible disease or persevere through a remarkable tragedy. I’ve never even developed an app!

That being said, I defend my right to be here by positing that an aimless, idiotic, unsuccessful twenty-something is exactly the person you should be listening to when entering the post-collegiate world. Statistically, you are way more likely to share my experience than that of an all-star athlete, billionaire philanthropist, or famous actor. Most people who give advice at these things are so far removed from the common experience that their advice really just amounts to a pat on their own backs for being genetic or circumstantial anomalies.

So my first bit of advice is don’t trust people who offer advice. They are all the worst, without exception.

Okay, here is my advice to you. Now that you’ve finished college, it’s time for the real world. And I know what you are thinking - you received the scary “here comes the real world” speech when you graduated high school and since then it’s been nothing but throwing back shots of Fireball, swallowing hits of Molly, and hooking up with each other like frenzied bonobos. Well, guess what? It’s true this time! Seriously, the real world is coming, and it’s going to suck.

Let me just give you a glimpse of what you are in for. After today, most of you will immediately start working jobs you don’t like and making money for people (and causes) you don’t care about to pay for a place you won’t be able to enjoy, because you will be at your terrible job all the time.

The dating pool shrinks as your responsibilities grow. The pace of life speeds up as your metabolism slows down. No one helps you with your taxes anymore. Your peers will start talking about their exercise habits as if it’s an interesting conversation. Sleep - you know that thing where you are unconscious? - becomes the event you look forward to the most. People expect you to eat kale. It is a hellscape of a reality that, frankly, you are not prepared for.

I find that it is helpful to have some philosophies when dealing with this inescapable soul-crushing experience of your mid-20s. The first thing to remember is this:

Life is just what you bring to it.

How do I know this? I don’t. I just made that up to sound smart. In retrospect, it doesn’t even make sense. It seems like something an insane person would say when you really think about it.

This brings me to my next point: make things up a lot. If you keep it pretty vague and sound confident when you say it, most people will be onboard.

Some other advice: if you are going to give yourself a nickname, remember that any nickname in Spanish sounds way cooler. For example, if your nickname is “Teapot” you’d be “El Tetera.” Pretty cool.

Also, you can yell at your significant other for snoring, even if he or she doesn’t snore, and they can’t really do anything about it. It’s a great way to let off some steam. Seriously, you can literally smack them in the face with a pillow when they are sound asleep, and they will probably just apologize to you.

Another thing to remember is to never send a work email from your iPhone. People will assume you wrote it while pooping. You might as well write it in brown font. Don’t grow a moustache unless you become a cop or a pedophile, at which point you’ll kind of have to. Those are just the rules. Lastly, it’s a good idea to use a thesaurus when writing things, people think you are smart if you know a lot of synonyms.

But some of you probably want something more substantial, real, significant, valuable, major, considerable, of note, and important than the practical advice above. Well, I don’t have anything to offer you there, and if I did, it probably wouldn’t work for you, because you are not me...unless I am just reading this back to myself at a later date. In that case, your pizza rolls are probably done. Don’t burn your mouth this time, you fat wreck!

The only advice I can truly give you is to try to be open and present, never tell a sad girl to smile, and always ask for extra napkins at the drive-thru.

Good luck!

Ryan “El Gatito” Patricks