I lost my father when I was five, and one thing I always wondered is how much it would’ve been different if it happened at 10, 15, or 20. The hardest thing for me was that there aren’t any real memories; what was there fades. But you’re 100% right about the comfort in knowing they would still want you to be happy and do the most with your life. I’ve been lucky to have family to remind me of this over the years, and I appreciate you reminding me of this as well today, Bill.
To the girl with the platonic friend, you literally cut him off the second you can replace him with an “official” partner? Even if he isn’t your BFF, you’re close enough to him to post photos with him and all that? Yeah, I think you need to start doing a few things alone, because you’re virtually treating him like a human prop to foster some sort of outward appearance you find necessary. There’s nothing wrong doing plenty of things solo, by the way.
The Nick/Rachel/Arie three-peat has felt more like months-long recruitments for BIP contestants than dynamic seasons in their own rights. We need a Corrine to re-focus this franchise with some actual star power, her utter insanity be damned.
I don’t know how long the first girl has known him, though I assume it has been quite a while if he’s made it to best-friend status. There’s no way you wouldn’t have seen this engagement coming if he is your best friend, and that should have been your call-to-action. Piss or get off the pot, basically. And honestly, if he’s already acting borderline during his engagement, why would you want the potential for that if he winds up with you? None of this ends well, for anyone involved.
The same buffoons who clap at the end of a movie, as if Spielberg is behind the curtain, basking in the adoration of the 8 people attending the Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull 2:30 matinee.
You would get thrown to the wolves for setting a Friday morning meeting in my office. People are too jazzed up to discuss their weekends in the morning. Friday afternoon is bad too, but usually produces a “shit, better do SOMETHING today” approach.
Phone rang at 7 this evening, and given that the only people who typically call are family, and I’ve trained them all to text me, dread immediately washed over me. Turned out to be a work friend venting about her trash weekend, luckily, but good God. Sunday night phone calls? Terrifying.
I never get this move. Why lie? People know you’re lying, and then you look like a dick AND a front-runner. It’s 2018; somebody is going to bring the receipts on your BS, eventually.
Proactively having a blackout prep kit is either a sure sign of being totally out of control, or a sign of being irrevocably washed. I just can’t figure out which.
Damn, I somehow had no idea Sinatra was a toupee guy. After investigating, I can confirm celebrity hair transplants/hair pieces is one hell of a mid-day rabbit hole.
Limited camera time had me worried as the roses dwindled, but I breathed a sign of relief when noted Jenny Slate lookalike Bibiana got hers. I’m a Bibiana Boy.
Only thing I have ever noticed is that the guys sometimes seem a little quiet, but generally speaking, you want to leave people with the ability to turn something up AND down as the situation dictates, which to me, makes it a non-issue. Preserve that sweet, sweet, dynamic range baby!
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I lost my father when I was five, and one thing I always wondered is how much it would’ve been different if it happened at 10, 15, or 20. The hardest thing for me was that there aren’t any real memories; what was there fades. But you’re 100% right about the comfort in knowing they would still want you to be happy and do the most with your life. I’ve been lucky to have family to remind me of this over the years, and I appreciate you reminding me of this as well today, Bill.
To the girl with the platonic friend, you literally cut him off the second you can replace him with an “official” partner? Even if he isn’t your BFF, you’re close enough to him to post photos with him and all that? Yeah, I think you need to start doing a few things alone, because you’re virtually treating him like a human prop to foster some sort of outward appearance you find necessary. There’s nothing wrong doing plenty of things solo, by the way.
The Nick/Rachel/Arie three-peat has felt more like months-long recruitments for BIP contestants than dynamic seasons in their own rights. We need a Corrine to re-focus this franchise with some actual star power, her utter insanity be damned.
Nice.
I don’t know how long the first girl has known him, though I assume it has been quite a while if he’s made it to best-friend status. There’s no way you wouldn’t have seen this engagement coming if he is your best friend, and that should have been your call-to-action. Piss or get off the pot, basically. And honestly, if he’s already acting borderline during his engagement, why would you want the potential for that if he winds up with you? None of this ends well, for anyone involved.
Smarter, safer, and cheaper than a DUI at least. Kudos.
The same buffoons who clap at the end of a movie, as if Spielberg is behind the curtain, basking in the adoration of the 8 people attending the Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull 2:30 matinee.
You would get thrown to the wolves for setting a Friday morning meeting in my office. People are too jazzed up to discuss their weekends in the morning. Friday afternoon is bad too, but usually produces a “shit, better do SOMETHING today” approach.
Phone rang at 7 this evening, and given that the only people who typically call are family, and I’ve trained them all to text me, dread immediately washed over me. Turned out to be a work friend venting about her trash weekend, luckily, but good God. Sunday night phone calls? Terrifying.
“And the best out-breath of all is their FINAL breath. Simply divine!” – that guy, probably.
Man, Fistopia GOES.
Leave it to Will to fire off a hot take about snack dip of all things.
Rowing machines, you’re on the clock for the next health-attention fad. Just you wait and see…
Somebody needs to get piss-and-puke girl some Pedialyte and Burt’s Bees, STAT. That’s IV-level dehydration.
I never get this move. Why lie? People know you’re lying, and then you look like a dick AND a front-runner. It’s 2018; somebody is going to bring the receipts on your BS, eventually.
Proactively having a blackout prep kit is either a sure sign of being totally out of control, or a sign of being irrevocably washed. I just can’t figure out which.
Damn, I somehow had no idea Sinatra was a toupee guy. After investigating, I can confirm celebrity hair transplants/hair pieces is one hell of a mid-day rabbit hole.
“The guy passed on a Bower. I can’t be around animals like that.”
Limited camera time had me worried as the roses dwindled, but I breathed a sign of relief when noted Jenny Slate lookalike Bibiana got hers. I’m a Bibiana Boy.
Only thing I have ever noticed is that the guys sometimes seem a little quiet, but generally speaking, you want to leave people with the ability to turn something up AND down as the situation dictates, which to me, makes it a non-issue. Preserve that sweet, sweet, dynamic range baby!