I’m fairly unqualified to speak about working for a major airline since I only just completed my first week of training. But that doesn’t mean I’m unqualified to unload a little.
We’ll just start with this…
I cried on the drive home from my THIRD day of training.
I’m not afraid to admit that I’ve come completely unhinged. My brain feels like an obscure, homemade bomb that a lunatic learned how to build on the dark web. All my wires are frayed and smoldering at the ends.
I haven’t had to learn new things in decades, never mind several thousand…
Have you ever written a letter like this? If not, what’s stopping you?
I’ll tell you what stops me.
Shitty people don’t have a clue that they’re so shitty. They could stand in front of a mirror in full Cruella De Vil garb and still not see themselves for who they are.
They think something is wrong with the rest of the world, but certainly not with themselves.
What’s baffling is that I seem to know all of them. Every lousy, insidious, deceitful one of them is either related by blood or has come into my life by pure chance.
One of my biggest peeves in all of life is seeing people who are supposed to be walking their dogs but instead, they’re at a dead standstill on the sidewalk with their faces in their phones.
Yet, as loving and loyal as dogs are, they don’t complain. They just stand there sniffing the same spot on the ground anticipating the chance to cover more ground.
They don’t understand what the little rectangular object mom or dad is holding but it always brings them to a standstill, ignoring what’s going on around them.
And completely ignoring the poor dog.
**This is not a sponsored post. Sadly, no kickbacks here.**
I’m sure some people reading this are kitchen wizards. You’re the type who can make a five course dinner appear out of thin air using a piece of bubblegum and a few matchsticks.
For you, reading this article would be comparable to Christian Grey reading up on 101 ways to tie up your wife in the red-velvet room of sexual pleasure.
For some of us, tackling kitchen things sits at #253 on the list of things we’d rather not do. …
I can’t even begin to figure out how new points of view, new footage, and new survivor accounts are still surfacing twenty years after 9/11.
However, if you consider that holocaust survival stories are still emerging seventy-five years later, it’s a good indication of how long tragedy can last and how wide it spreads.
Every single year since 2001 I have made a conscious point of setting aside at least two days leading up to September 11th to sit down and watch the newest documentaries of the event. Sometimes I re-watch old ones too.
And every single year it seems…
I’m a complete jerk. I have been for the last twelve years or so, and I’m pretty comfortable with it because nobody forgets or loses track of a jerk.
Let me explain how this keeps my life very simple.
Anytime someone asks how they can get in touch with me I simply say, 399-JERK. That’s my phone number and nobody ever forgets it.
I was reminded of how long I’ve been a jerk this week when I made an appointment with my local phone provider to have a landline installed for my home office.
I know, I know. Who TF…
I made myself smile before 9 a.m. one morning, which is a near impossible feat to achieve all by myself. Usually, only my dog is capable of a task as difficult as early morning happiness.
So, why all the smiles?
It’s because I wrote a bunch of funny things and ended up making bank.
I’m here to tell you exactly how I did it and where I published it. Buckle up and refill your coffee cup because you’re going to want to take notes.
FYI: The whole process was inspired by this newsletter I subscribe to. …
My dog, Dezi, is a shelter pup. I adopted her at 8 weeks old from the local humane society. Most dogs from this shelter are mixed breeds that have been rescued from reserves in surrounding areas.
Since Dezi’s mother was also at the shelter, by looking at mama the best they could tell me is that she’s a Shepherd mix. And since we got first pick of the litter we could clearly see that four of the puppies could pass as Shepherds.
Dezi and one of her siblings were the exceptions because they were both predominantly black with white markings…
Have you ever sat down to watch the six o’clock news only to be shocked that the headline story horrifically involves someone you know?
Oddly, this has happened to me not just once, but several times. And each occurrence was a jaw-dropping moment.
One might think that hearing the story about the murder of a man I hung out with decades ago would rattle my chains a little. In fact, it rattled me a lot but he was without question, the type of person that bad karma would be on a first-name basis with.
However, no dinnertime news story shocked…
On August 31st I attended a candlelight vigil and awareness event that meant the world to me. I endured two full hours of bitter winds and cold nighttime temperatures to listen to several featured speakers.
I heard an older woman speak about losing her two sons to accidental overdoses. I only lost one.
I listened to a young person speak about a project she has launched in the name of a friend she lost at just eighteen years old. Again, accidental overdose.
Then I listened to a young woman speak about the loss of both her brothers the same way…