Life’s Little Lessons

We all have those little tidbits we live by– Those little pearls of wisdom we have acquired over the years, instilled in us either by those who raised us or by years of experience, that help craft how we view the world and how we interact within it.

Curious, I asked around a bit to discover a few of these “-isms” some of my peers hold close to the vest as they meander through this little game we call life.  Here is just a sampling of the results:

“Do unto others (yadda yadda yadda- we all know where this one is going, BORING!)”

“You’ll always have job security as long as you’re not the biggest retard.”

“Karma’s a bitch.”

“Never date a girl who wears orange shorts (I have witnessed  the truth of this first-hand).”

“Whatever kind of beer Jesus would brew it would be right.”

“Don’t stick your fingers where you wouldn’t stick your face.”

…and of course…

“Fuck it.”

All this begs the question of what I respond with when asked about my golden rule?  That’s easy:

Never, EVER, trust a man wearing loafers with no socks.

This douche is even wearing basketball shorts- SATAN!

Nothing good will EVER come from trusting a man wearing loafers with no socks!

That’s mine.  What’s yours?

Wordless Wednesday

Congrats to my sister who is out with the old...

...and in with the new. ***Disclaimer***- Nobody was hurt in this post. Well, kinda. But all is better now so we can look back at it and laugh a bit. The new one's a nice shade of pink, huh?

The Greatest Picture Ever

So Erik and I went to Beer Club Night at a Colorado Springs Sky Sox game (Thanks again, Peter) for a piece on rediscovering.wordpress.com.   The premiss was one man’s perceptions (Erik) of another as he gets a bit too deep in some Rocky Mountain Refreshment (Yours Truly).  Anyway, coming out of concession’s with #9 & #10, I saw the team’s mascot, Sox the Fox, taking pictures with the kids.  It turns out I have done this before-

Innocence from last season

Innocence from last season

With a few too many already flowing in my veins (all within the spirit of the article, mind you) I ran down (stumbled really, and lucky not to have broken my neck) to our seats and tell Erik what I found.

We rush to Sox’s table where I am greeted skeptically by his handler.  I take a deep breath, and do my best to keep my eyes from straying in different directions, and tell the gentleman that me and my partner are writers of a travel blog (it’s true) and were covering the Mug Club for the site.  We told him that a picture with Sox would be a great accent for our piece.

It’s a funny thing that happens when you let people think you are doing something important.  Where just moments before this guy was about to call security and have me put in an arm-bar and removed from the premises, he opens up my path to Sox the Fox and says, “Oh wow!  Take a few if you have to!”

Thank you sir, but just one will do…

It's good to see you again, buddy...

It's good to see you again, buddy...