My Bolivian friend, Hector, just informed me that the American team didn’t qualify to play in your stupid World Cup tournament this year. Huh?! Have you been drinking the Cuervo, Soccer? After publicly berating Hector with a variety of curse words in two different languages, I decided to Google his audacious claim. Much to my chagrin, Hector’s right. Thanks to you (and not my inappropriate overreaction), a friendship has been lost. Continue reading “An Open Letter to Soccer”
Who in the hell do you think you are, flooding the fashion world with your narrow-framed bodies and your narrow-framed minds, making it impossible for generations of other males to find clothes that fit. Your propensity to seek out only the tightest fitting clothes possible, has marginalized the older generations, whose deft metabolism and toned frames are a thing of the past. Continue reading “An Open Letter to Millennial Males”
The desire to see Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers in concert last summer outweighed the urge to remain at home and not drive 45 minutes north to Baltimore, Maryland on a hot and steamy, Sunday afternoon.
When their musical careers end, alternative bands from the 1990’s are forced to find office jobs to make ends meet. The transition from angst-ridden rock star to corporate employee doesn’t always turn out well for these icons of grunge.
Supervisor: Any chance you can cover that late meeting for me today?
Radiohead: Whatever makes you happy. Whatever you want. You’re so very special. I wish I was special.
Supervisor: You are special.
Radiohead: But I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo. What the hell am I doing here? I don’t belong here.
Sigmund Freud: Your desire to get in touch with me while I am away from my desk could belie a deeper issue. Please consider giving a truer account of your motivation rather than engaging in grandiose self-deception. If you just have a work-related question, that is fine too. After all, sometimes an email is just an email.