Again, I'd like to start by tossing out a little recommendations on how to be awesome (talk like Tom Brokaw, really emphasize your "L's", try the phrase "I'd love to lick a lemon lollipop in Lillehammer", and you're gonna have a good time. Courtesy of Family Guy). Also, I want to give an apology that I've not been able to write on this as much as I'd like. I've vowed never to put any crap up on here that isn't worth reading. Just like I've vowed to never be a hippie, to one day really be Batman, and to never eat raw avocado that's not guacamole. It's disgusting. The texture. To me, it seems the way you make an avocado is to throw a giant pear at a friend one fun night, let it fall behind the television, forget about it for, oh, a while, let it turn black as night with a hint of green, find it in an archaeological dig eons from now, and call it an avocado. On the other hand, mix some salsa, lime, onion, cilantro, salt and pepper with that bad boy and ill consume every type of chip in your house: Tostitos, Mission Rounds, tortilla, potato, poker, computer. I swear. The chip matters not.
But clearly thats not why we are here today.
On a more related note, we somewhat recently passed a great topic of conversation that EVERYONE LOVES to talk and hear about, guaranteed....
necrotizing fasciitis.
Wait, thats next week. Oh man, stay tuned for that. (Google it if you cant wait... SWEET LORD DO NOT GOOGLE IT)
Yikes, that just took a horrible turn. Ok, so what I meant to bring up was Valentine's Day. Single's Sunday. Normally would have been a little sad for Mase Dawg, but not when you have a roommate like Wilder, who's birthday happens to be on that very same day. We threw Wilder a fantastic party, of which this is the tag line for the Facebook event I created for it: "Mankind's finest representative (Wilder) invites you to try and win his heart at the Sleaze Easy Motel". Just the best. Nothing but the usual mayhem and madness we've come to know and love from this guy, so we'll leave it at that.
We'll take another turn, and finally come to the subject of this whole ordeal... in a minute. Valentine's Day seemed like a fantastic subject for one of these blog-ertins. I had it all planned out, I'd find some underlying truth about that day that would be really witty and justify myself as a freelance life college student with no girlfriend. It was gonna be a doosey. But then that's the thing about plans... valentine's day, heart shaped candy, heart shaped cards, heart shaped jewelry, heart shaped hearts...
I walked by my kitchen, and saw the paper score sheet pinned to our wall for the most fantastic card game fit for kings on this good earth; Hearts. Background: our water polo team took a trip to Europe this past summer, a lot of travel, and you've gotta kill time while sitting in the airport or ferry dock waiting to be yelled at by our coach on how slowly we are carrying our month's worth of luggage. Hence, Hearts. It's a game of degradation, backstabbing, and intrigue that can turn the most avid card player into Nancy Kerrigan at the '94 U.S. Ice Skating Championships. WHYYYYYYYYY!!!!!! WHYYYYY?!?!?!?! I swear. That was me, just the other night. So for those of you who don't know the game, there's a play called Shooting the Moon, and it's fantastic. Incredibly risky, but if achieved, absolutely devastating to everyone else. In the middle of the game, I look at my hand... taylor made for shooting. My heart pounds, and the plan is set in motion and there's no turning back. It's going swimmingly. I begin to tank the hand, sheepishly pretending to lose with cruel intentions hidden like Cool Hand Luke, until... my friend Big Country, a relative rookie to our other two competitors, like a complete ass and without any clue that he's foiled my bulletproof plan, brainlessly gives my compadre Brada-Man my coup de grace... 1, little, bitty, useless, eight of HEARTS. In order to shoot the moon, I NEED THEM ALL, AND THAT DAMNED QUEEN OF SPADES TOO. I eat the hand and lose virtually all chance of winning the game. SO DAMN SAD. I then proceeded to berate him for a good 2 and a half hours.
But I looked at what occurred that fateful night with a cool head today, and realized I guess that's what I get for making plans. There's a good few things I thought I had wrapped up and figured out recently, including my moment in the sun as I finally shot the moon. I thought I was playing it way cool with these things, cruisin' down the highway of my awesome plans, then they all just turn tragically James Dean on me. So here's what I got out of it. You've gotta have some sweet goals set for yourself. Make some cool plans and have all kinds fun working to try and make them an awesome reality. But promise me that you'll never, ever, count on them to stay set in stone. You'll think you're on the right track, you make one wrong move, all of the sudden you don't even have the right map. And that's the part you've gotta learn to enjoy. It's tough, I know, I whined like middle-school girl trust me, but adapt, and make some new plans. Maybe those work out, who knows? The only constant, is change.
So put that in your pipe, and attach it safely to your toilet, because that shit is deep.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Thursday, February 4, 2010
on When it Rains, it Pours
first: take a full flying knee from a 200+ pound dude straight in the thigh and live on the top floor of your apartment. YAYYY
so sometimes things are just working out for you. you throw parties that put the row to shame, you have tons of fun, you make people drink away their sorrows after you bring Blitzkrieg on whatever BP skills they think they have, you play a little water polo at night, you mix in a little class after waking up at noon, you record some pretty tunes for the ladies, you get your swoll on in the weight room on the reg, you visit the fam and see your sister on espn2, you destroy steak barbeques for the nfl playoffs and family dinners. in other words, you've got it going on.
all the sudden, youre caught in the rain with your umbrella upside down 2 miles away. home boy needs some soup and wishes he listened to the airline stewardess when she explained how to turn your seat into a floatation device. funny how the weather can somehow dictate how your whole life goes. the storms begin. my hometown turns into a 10 mile slip and slide made of mud. Los Angelinos are swimming to work and who the fuck ever heard of a tornado in Southern California. i had elementary teachers say they'll die before they ever see a tornado in LA, its simply impossible with the geography. someone must have gone postal on the Fremont Elementary faculty then. Dorothy, are you high? we're still in fucking Kansas. even BR's gotta throw out a rant about the rain, and yes i agree, anyone who says they love the rain has a special circle in hell reserved just for them.
so i had to take a break from this bad boy for this very reason. with the rain came some serious indoor time, and a downpour of decisions to be made. youd think being stuck inside lends itself to writing this stuff perfectly, but apparently the good lord dropped the ball for a bit and finally noticed how much i was CHILLING. even chick put me in the refrigerator i was so cool. turns out people gotta go all Big Daddy and throw a giant stick into your rollerblades of awesome living, precisely as the thunder starts to roll. for various reasons im not gonna go into much detail, but i'll do what i do best and turn it into a sports metaphor:
say you run some po-folk basketball team, and kobe bryant hits you up and says, "you mase dawg, my homie, my boy Sunday. please, please, let me be your shooting guard". ummm, im getting punk'd and im gonna beat ashton's face in. false. kobe drops triple doubles every night for you and life doesnt get better. now your thinking about a long term contract. boom, LeBron James hits you up and says wants a shot at runnning the show. crap. Chris Paul rolls up in a range rover and starts dressing in the locker room. Kevin Durant spikes all the other guy's gatorade and storms the court. John Wall will kill your family if you dont draft him out of Kentucky, and Shaq asks them all how his ass tastes and chokes them all out. CLEARLY you cant have all these guys out on the court, and the locker room's gonna implode, let alone my head.
thats the best description i can do and i'll leave it at that. but clearly, this is a disaster. and when it rains, it pours. right?
you chose... poorly
dead wrong. any general manager would kill for this problem, and it turns out, its not even a problem at all. i learned from a good friend recently, much love to K-Dawg for this one, that if you really take a good look at what youve got going on, things that seem to just pile on and on and leave you with paper shoes in bad weather, a lot of the time, are things that are 100% up to you. Put simply, K-Dawg loves to run. then, complains about complains about having to wake up at 7 to run. THEN DONT RUN. now thats about as Fremont elementary as it gets, but stuff that seems more complicated can be broken down to exactly that. a bunch of crap we complain about is actually either stuff we put on ourselves and could change with ease in the drop of a hat, or stuff that we have no business even thinking about let alone stressing over. break it down, and look at it a little different. keep doing the things you love, and dont put things on you that are out of your control, that'll all work out on its own. if you like it, its worth thinking about, otherwise let it slide, and youre one step closer to Ferris Bueller himself. Leisure Rules.
so when it rains, just let it pour, turn on the tv, and watch Kobe do his thing.
so sometimes things are just working out for you. you throw parties that put the row to shame, you have tons of fun, you make people drink away their sorrows after you bring Blitzkrieg on whatever BP skills they think they have, you play a little water polo at night, you mix in a little class after waking up at noon, you record some pretty tunes for the ladies, you get your swoll on in the weight room on the reg, you visit the fam and see your sister on espn2, you destroy steak barbeques for the nfl playoffs and family dinners. in other words, you've got it going on.
all the sudden, youre caught in the rain with your umbrella upside down 2 miles away. home boy needs some soup and wishes he listened to the airline stewardess when she explained how to turn your seat into a floatation device. funny how the weather can somehow dictate how your whole life goes. the storms begin. my hometown turns into a 10 mile slip and slide made of mud. Los Angelinos are swimming to work and who the fuck ever heard of a tornado in Southern California. i had elementary teachers say they'll die before they ever see a tornado in LA, its simply impossible with the geography. someone must have gone postal on the Fremont Elementary faculty then. Dorothy, are you high? we're still in fucking Kansas. even BR's gotta throw out a rant about the rain, and yes i agree, anyone who says they love the rain has a special circle in hell reserved just for them.
so i had to take a break from this bad boy for this very reason. with the rain came some serious indoor time, and a downpour of decisions to be made. youd think being stuck inside lends itself to writing this stuff perfectly, but apparently the good lord dropped the ball for a bit and finally noticed how much i was CHILLING. even chick put me in the refrigerator i was so cool. turns out people gotta go all Big Daddy and throw a giant stick into your rollerblades of awesome living, precisely as the thunder starts to roll. for various reasons im not gonna go into much detail, but i'll do what i do best and turn it into a sports metaphor:
say you run some po-folk basketball team, and kobe bryant hits you up and says, "you mase dawg, my homie, my boy Sunday. please, please, let me be your shooting guard". ummm, im getting punk'd and im gonna beat ashton's face in. false. kobe drops triple doubles every night for you and life doesnt get better. now your thinking about a long term contract. boom, LeBron James hits you up and says wants a shot at runnning the show. crap. Chris Paul rolls up in a range rover and starts dressing in the locker room. Kevin Durant spikes all the other guy's gatorade and storms the court. John Wall will kill your family if you dont draft him out of Kentucky, and Shaq asks them all how his ass tastes and chokes them all out. CLEARLY you cant have all these guys out on the court, and the locker room's gonna implode, let alone my head.
thats the best description i can do and i'll leave it at that. but clearly, this is a disaster. and when it rains, it pours. right?
you chose... poorly
dead wrong. any general manager would kill for this problem, and it turns out, its not even a problem at all. i learned from a good friend recently, much love to K-Dawg for this one, that if you really take a good look at what youve got going on, things that seem to just pile on and on and leave you with paper shoes in bad weather, a lot of the time, are things that are 100% up to you. Put simply, K-Dawg loves to run. then, complains about complains about having to wake up at 7 to run. THEN DONT RUN. now thats about as Fremont elementary as it gets, but stuff that seems more complicated can be broken down to exactly that. a bunch of crap we complain about is actually either stuff we put on ourselves and could change with ease in the drop of a hat, or stuff that we have no business even thinking about let alone stressing over. break it down, and look at it a little different. keep doing the things you love, and dont put things on you that are out of your control, that'll all work out on its own. if you like it, its worth thinking about, otherwise let it slide, and youre one step closer to Ferris Bueller himself. Leisure Rules.
so when it rains, just let it pour, turn on the tv, and watch Kobe do his thing.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
on 3 things you should try
alright, so dont get too excited about this post, pretty sure i went a little overboard the last few times and im putting my couch-induced Socrates episodes on hold for a bit. really all i wanted to do today was to do absolutely nothing, and i succeeded. flying colors. could have starred in office space today. rather i watched inglorious basterds, (phe-nominal) and had some serious dude time with my dad.
but the reason i felt compelled to throw another one of these out there today is that i had a couple of recommendations that are simply awesome. thats all. no big life changers or wild ragers or park rangers or immanent dangers or airplane hangers or rhyming lessons. the last one might be a lie, fly guy. god im an idiot.
ok, recommendations. these are things that ive found in my quest for awesome to be, well, just that, awesome. ill get into detail later, but take these, read em, give it a thought, call me a dumbass and continue your day.
NUMBER 1: Go to a hockey game
alright, this one is simple, the other two are a little out there, but this one's beauty is in is simplicity. hockey is badass, first of all. and the game is REALLY easy to understand. only 2 speed bumps, offsides and icing, once you have those down the rest is groovy. EASY. connect 4, i swear. alright im not completely clueless, i realize guys who read this like Nasty, BR, Taco, Big Country and the Ville are sports fans who combined could probably produce an episode of Sportscenter, but this is mostly for anyone who either 1. has not been, or 2. in fact qualifies as a girl. a third option, if you are so fortunate and exponentially cooler that i am, is a date. its constant action, hard hitting, and pretty darn saucy live and in person. on the flipside, baseball a great game, but high risk in this situation. its long, slow, and when the guy is admiring the greatest of pitching duals, the girl is wondering if text messages are cool to break up by. add that to possible sun burn and the obese superfan flinging his nachos and falling over your date to grab the beachball (thanks dodgerblues.com) and you could spell disaster if you arent careful, and lucky enough to spell. football is confusing, straight up. i really have got nothing on basketball except that the clippers are sad, you go to watch the other team, and my left arm for a laker game is considerable, but i look long term. hockey is unique, and you could possibly create a new fan, just dont forget to give her your sweater.
LETTER B: Meditation
so i stumbled upon this one from Mrs. Hawthorne, my mother, a saint. she's into some pretty cool stuff, stars, the Dalai Lama, cooking, theater, and is a dead eye at the shooting range. stud. she was watching her programs one evening, i got sucked in despite my best efforts, and this is the result. meditiation. we already know about my Yes Man tendencies, but nobody even had to ask me for this, i was just down. the Lama and friends were just so stoked on everything it seemed. as i watched these scientists try to figure out how these little asian dudes could get to be twice as awesome as them, i decided to proclaim my room that night to be meditation station. i did the research, and here's how to do it like an all-star: http://www.how-to-meditate.org/. all you need are the Breathing Meditation and Meditation Posture links on the left and youre cash. i got in the zone after like 30 something breaths and literally went places, and felt like a hundred bucks after. give it a shot, make up your mind, and let me know.
NUMBER 3: Shakespeare
i can hear the collective sighs, groans and laptops closing at the very mention of that guy, but you've got to read shakespeare. now i know that a lot of people say, "i dont get it. sorry i dont speak jive or whatever the hell that is" but not even kidding, he's the most intuitive author to grace god's green earth. the guy knows more about people's minds than mr. t knows about pitying fools, and any situation you've even been in your entire life HE'S WRITTEN ABOUT. love, hate, reputation, backstabbing, betrayal, power, subversion, parents, children, death, war, life, strife and booze this guy's forgotten more about all of them than you'll ever know. think about that last comment, pure fact. now here's the rub (bonus: that's shakespeare quote by the way, and when you start throwing those out routinely in daily interaction, ladies will want to be with you and guys will want to be you), its flippin maddening to understand. you'll have to work at it, but its literature, and every little hidden gem of genious is whatever you make it! its as much yours as old William's. your guess as to what many things mean is as good as any nerd Stanford professor's. read deep, this is the hardest recommendation by far i know, but possibly the most rewarding. granted i had an incredible high school teacher who helped me understand this guy like no other, but if you give it a try you'll pretty much be able to read minds (or as zoolander so eloquently put, you'll become bulimic).
if you give any a try, please let me know how it goes so i'll have proof that i should just shut my mouth and never recommend so much as a snickers bar to anyone. in closing, keep reading, let me know if you like this thing, and live awesome party animals.
but the reason i felt compelled to throw another one of these out there today is that i had a couple of recommendations that are simply awesome. thats all. no big life changers or wild ragers or park rangers or immanent dangers or airplane hangers or rhyming lessons. the last one might be a lie, fly guy. god im an idiot.
ok, recommendations. these are things that ive found in my quest for awesome to be, well, just that, awesome. ill get into detail later, but take these, read em, give it a thought, call me a dumbass and continue your day.
NUMBER 1: Go to a hockey game
alright, this one is simple, the other two are a little out there, but this one's beauty is in is simplicity. hockey is badass, first of all. and the game is REALLY easy to understand. only 2 speed bumps, offsides and icing, once you have those down the rest is groovy. EASY. connect 4, i swear. alright im not completely clueless, i realize guys who read this like Nasty, BR, Taco, Big Country and the Ville are sports fans who combined could probably produce an episode of Sportscenter, but this is mostly for anyone who either 1. has not been, or 2. in fact qualifies as a girl. a third option, if you are so fortunate and exponentially cooler that i am, is a date. its constant action, hard hitting, and pretty darn saucy live and in person. on the flipside, baseball a great game, but high risk in this situation. its long, slow, and when the guy is admiring the greatest of pitching duals, the girl is wondering if text messages are cool to break up by. add that to possible sun burn and the obese superfan flinging his nachos and falling over your date to grab the beachball (thanks dodgerblues.com) and you could spell disaster if you arent careful, and lucky enough to spell. football is confusing, straight up. i really have got nothing on basketball except that the clippers are sad, you go to watch the other team, and my left arm for a laker game is considerable, but i look long term. hockey is unique, and you could possibly create a new fan, just dont forget to give her your sweater.
LETTER B: Meditation
so i stumbled upon this one from Mrs. Hawthorne, my mother, a saint. she's into some pretty cool stuff, stars, the Dalai Lama, cooking, theater, and is a dead eye at the shooting range. stud. she was watching her programs one evening, i got sucked in despite my best efforts, and this is the result. meditiation. we already know about my Yes Man tendencies, but nobody even had to ask me for this, i was just down. the Lama and friends were just so stoked on everything it seemed. as i watched these scientists try to figure out how these little asian dudes could get to be twice as awesome as them, i decided to proclaim my room that night to be meditation station. i did the research, and here's how to do it like an all-star: http://www.how-to-meditate.org/. all you need are the Breathing Meditation and Meditation Posture links on the left and youre cash. i got in the zone after like 30 something breaths and literally went places, and felt like a hundred bucks after. give it a shot, make up your mind, and let me know.
NUMBER 3: Shakespeare
i can hear the collective sighs, groans and laptops closing at the very mention of that guy, but you've got to read shakespeare. now i know that a lot of people say, "i dont get it. sorry i dont speak jive or whatever the hell that is" but not even kidding, he's the most intuitive author to grace god's green earth. the guy knows more about people's minds than mr. t knows about pitying fools, and any situation you've even been in your entire life HE'S WRITTEN ABOUT. love, hate, reputation, backstabbing, betrayal, power, subversion, parents, children, death, war, life, strife and booze this guy's forgotten more about all of them than you'll ever know. think about that last comment, pure fact. now here's the rub (bonus: that's shakespeare quote by the way, and when you start throwing those out routinely in daily interaction, ladies will want to be with you and guys will want to be you), its flippin maddening to understand. you'll have to work at it, but its literature, and every little hidden gem of genious is whatever you make it! its as much yours as old William's. your guess as to what many things mean is as good as any nerd Stanford professor's. read deep, this is the hardest recommendation by far i know, but possibly the most rewarding. granted i had an incredible high school teacher who helped me understand this guy like no other, but if you give it a try you'll pretty much be able to read minds (or as zoolander so eloquently put, you'll become bulimic).
if you give any a try, please let me know how it goes so i'll have proof that i should just shut my mouth and never recommend so much as a snickers bar to anyone. in closing, keep reading, let me know if you like this thing, and live awesome party animals.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
on being a Yes Man
id like to apologize, ive been m.i.a. on this the past week and a half and being in full ghost mode is becoming a scary routine for me. so here we go...
first.
side note: currently watching an episode of House with a scene filmed on honolulu ave. right by my house, pretty much exactly where will ferrell went streaking in old school and up the street where vincent chase of entourage bought his first motorcycle, i love bragging about that, im so tight.
song of the week: You Might Die Trying by Dave Matthews Band. find on playlist.com, press play and continue.
alright, so ive always been somewhat of a yes man, but on new years eve the br3r squad watched the movie, i got inspired, and decided to give it a real shot.
hey mason, you wanna stay up all night? yup
hey mase, up for some bananagrams? down
masos, want to drive Nasty to 24 hour fitness and work out at 6AM on no sleep? yessir
wanna swing by the rose parade? yeya
should we go by the Rose Bowl and see whos tailgating? word
we charm the pants off of the tired girl working at 24hour fitness at 6 AM and she lets me through without a membership, buckets. Nasty kicks my ass in a workout while i curse at his ab routine, but i make it out alive. we leave for the rose bowl tailgate and its a zoo. I pull up to the $30 parking zone and of course run into some guy that Nasty's known forevers. he tells us to drive on through and have a blast, free of charge. Nasty cant get a hold of BrotherMan who we knew would be in rare form (hammered) at that point (8 AM) at the massive tailgate, so we decide to let the parking attendants decide our fate. turns out, they lead us to no fun and we call it a sleepless night/new years morning.
now i know what youre thinking. thats the best i can do for a yes man on new years? not very impressive. come on mase dawg, figure it out. so as i sit here trying to come up with something ive learned about my new years, all i can come up with is that kill bill 1 and 2 are badass and that i need to get more sleep.
so i think, and i think, and think. and im getting bad at this, the Sunday Driver has found its demise after 3 posts and i fizzle out like my tampa bay bucs in the 4th quarter. so i decide to sit back and let this episode of House unfold... let it happen...
all the sudden, (i swear it was like the moment house gets that epiphany: the blank stare, the quickly bursting into the patient's life threatening surgery to give the real diagnosis, the patient needs orange juice or some simple shit) i realize that the point of this story does not lie in what i did on new years, but it really goes back to that little side note i barely decided to throw in at the beginning. im 3 posts into this blog thing, and all of the sudden, im forcing it. i watch as this dying dude on the television takes a gun and holds House and other people hostage in order to get a diagnosis he's never been able to get for 10 years. he obviously is having a terrible life right now, so he decided to take a gun, and force it. on the contrary, i remember Jim Carrey in yes man as the perfect embodiment of the opposite. he decides to let things happen and has a great life, clearly NOT forcing it. so i looked at my new years, and i figured out why i havent had one of those bomb ass moments that ive got to share with the world in a while. i came to the conclusion that, now see if you can follow this, i was forcing NOT forcing it. i tried too hard to not try too hard. hah
if i were reading this i would ask myself, "wow, are you serious guy? lets get this straight, your whining because your trying too hard to have something exciting happen to you? you're a dumbass, theres starving kids in africa you selfish idiot."
but think about it, you can fall into a rut or just for some reason feel the need for a change, and we've all felt it at one point or another, and with all consideration to starvin marvin and everyone with real problems, sometimes people just arent happy with whats going on. but trust me, think about what you've got going for you, and dont force it. you'll feel like a hundred bucks soon enough.
now i usually dont get this deep but as you can see from me letting the movie yes man guide an entire 24 hour span of my life, im a little impressionable, and this house episode brought it all out.
funny how it works but i know that its clearly and no doubt the truth, mainly because i get this relieved feeling every time i finish one of these knowing i learned something dope, and maybe someone else did too.
so the point is, dont force it, make stuff happen at life's pace, not your own, and youll have some fun. the guy in the house episode finally stopped forcing it, house got the diagnosis, and the man took the first deep breath he's been able to take in 10 years. and remember, if you do force it, You Might Die Trying (dave matthews). wow that tied in just beautifully, swear to god unplanned. if its meant to happen, it'll happen.
first.
side note: currently watching an episode of House with a scene filmed on honolulu ave. right by my house, pretty much exactly where will ferrell went streaking in old school and up the street where vincent chase of entourage bought his first motorcycle, i love bragging about that, im so tight.
song of the week: You Might Die Trying by Dave Matthews Band. find on playlist.com, press play and continue.
alright, so ive always been somewhat of a yes man, but on new years eve the br3r squad watched the movie, i got inspired, and decided to give it a real shot.
hey mason, you wanna stay up all night? yup
hey mase, up for some bananagrams? down
masos, want to drive Nasty to 24 hour fitness and work out at 6AM on no sleep? yessir
wanna swing by the rose parade? yeya
should we go by the Rose Bowl and see whos tailgating? word
we charm the pants off of the tired girl working at 24hour fitness at 6 AM and she lets me through without a membership, buckets. Nasty kicks my ass in a workout while i curse at his ab routine, but i make it out alive. we leave for the rose bowl tailgate and its a zoo. I pull up to the $30 parking zone and of course run into some guy that Nasty's known forevers. he tells us to drive on through and have a blast, free of charge. Nasty cant get a hold of BrotherMan who we knew would be in rare form (hammered) at that point (8 AM) at the massive tailgate, so we decide to let the parking attendants decide our fate. turns out, they lead us to no fun and we call it a sleepless night/new years morning.
now i know what youre thinking. thats the best i can do for a yes man on new years? not very impressive. come on mase dawg, figure it out. so as i sit here trying to come up with something ive learned about my new years, all i can come up with is that kill bill 1 and 2 are badass and that i need to get more sleep.
so i think, and i think, and think. and im getting bad at this, the Sunday Driver has found its demise after 3 posts and i fizzle out like my tampa bay bucs in the 4th quarter. so i decide to sit back and let this episode of House unfold... let it happen...
all the sudden, (i swear it was like the moment house gets that epiphany: the blank stare, the quickly bursting into the patient's life threatening surgery to give the real diagnosis, the patient needs orange juice or some simple shit) i realize that the point of this story does not lie in what i did on new years, but it really goes back to that little side note i barely decided to throw in at the beginning. im 3 posts into this blog thing, and all of the sudden, im forcing it. i watch as this dying dude on the television takes a gun and holds House and other people hostage in order to get a diagnosis he's never been able to get for 10 years. he obviously is having a terrible life right now, so he decided to take a gun, and force it. on the contrary, i remember Jim Carrey in yes man as the perfect embodiment of the opposite. he decides to let things happen and has a great life, clearly NOT forcing it. so i looked at my new years, and i figured out why i havent had one of those bomb ass moments that ive got to share with the world in a while. i came to the conclusion that, now see if you can follow this, i was forcing NOT forcing it. i tried too hard to not try too hard. hah
if i were reading this i would ask myself, "wow, are you serious guy? lets get this straight, your whining because your trying too hard to have something exciting happen to you? you're a dumbass, theres starving kids in africa you selfish idiot."
but think about it, you can fall into a rut or just for some reason feel the need for a change, and we've all felt it at one point or another, and with all consideration to starvin marvin and everyone with real problems, sometimes people just arent happy with whats going on. but trust me, think about what you've got going for you, and dont force it. you'll feel like a hundred bucks soon enough.
now i usually dont get this deep but as you can see from me letting the movie yes man guide an entire 24 hour span of my life, im a little impressionable, and this house episode brought it all out.
funny how it works but i know that its clearly and no doubt the truth, mainly because i get this relieved feeling every time i finish one of these knowing i learned something dope, and maybe someone else did too.
so the point is, dont force it, make stuff happen at life's pace, not your own, and youll have some fun. the guy in the house episode finally stopped forcing it, house got the diagnosis, and the man took the first deep breath he's been able to take in 10 years. and remember, if you do force it, You Might Die Trying (dave matthews). wow that tied in just beautifully, swear to god unplanned. if its meant to happen, it'll happen.
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