I am proud to say I am a Chicago Cubs fan. Feel free to leave any information about how the Cubs are inferior to your selected team of choice. I know the Cubs do not win every game - you'd have to be illiterate or extremely naive to believe otherwise. I don’t expect it from them. What I expect from my favorite team is to serve the best Chicago style hot dogs and create an atmosphere that is summer, hope and beer. Honestly, I feel that being a Cubs fan has prepared me for life. Now hear me out... I do not expect the Cubs to win - similarly, I do not expect to get every job I apply for. However, when I do achieve something great like getting that dream job - similar to the Cubs winning the wild card - the party will be one of the most epic parties thrown around. Think about it, Chicago White Sox fans and St. Louis Cardinals fans expect to win and when they do not advance to the playoffs or lose some minor game they get sad and throw little fits.... and what do Cub fans say? “There’s always next year.” And this is true, just because “We” didn’t win today doesn’t mean “We” won’t win tomorrow - doesn’t mean we will win tomorrow either.
Some of my favorite people are the most intelligent human beings. Yet, these people lack the elegance that is common sense. A lot of people work mindless jobs, I included. However mindless the job may be, workers should not stop thinking - but it happens everyday.
Example 1: Wrong Order. The guests asks the server, “May I have half-&-half iced tea.” The server replies, “Yes” and brings the guest iced tea with half-&-half cream. True story.
Example 2: Wrong Starbucks. I ordered a trenta Black Iced Coffee with a shot of espresso. The barista starts to make a tea with a shot of espresso. She realizes her mistake, so I believed there was hope. Then she asked what flavor and how many pumps of sugar I wante? My response, “Its black, none.” Truer Story.
Example 3: Wrong Size. My friend was at store lets call it Old Navy and trying on jeans. The pushy sales lady asked her if she needed anything and my friend replied, “Yes can I get this pair of jeans in a different color.” The sales lady obtains the new color, yellow (the most unattractive pant color) and four sizes too small. Now, I want to give this girl an A for effort, a B for Kiss Assing/flattery and an F for intelligence because my friend handed her the other pair of jeans. Truest Story.
Maybe today’s youth should rethink this energy drink fiasco, because you may be physically awake but you are mentally brain dead.
I am superior to all you do. I am perfect. That being said, I thought that I was invincible and placed an adequate amount of fear into the pipsqueak known as the dog. Its been 6 months with this house guest and 2 days before it departed it leaves a pile of nasty nast on my rug. That rug was tainted, therefore it is trash. However, when I saw the enormous mound of ugly, I screamed for fear that it was a rather large rat. (my other roommate has a rat so I’m not psycho) My biggest fear is the canine conundrum and knowing that they are shit heads does not make me grow fonder of their existence. Puppies suck even more than dogs. If I have to hear someone profess their love for an adorable puppy picture I am going to stab those human eyes. Those holy terrors are little atomic bombs ready to ignite and explode... and that’s what that rejected monkey trash did - explode shit on my rug.
The people who are the dumbest are the ones that give up on themselves. How does one expect the world to believe in the art they create, if he or she does not see the glory in their work? Some dreams seem unrealistic but if you have fun with it, anything is possible. One nay-sayers asked, “Do you believe in Unicorns?” and my reply was a simple yes. There is no proof that unicorns do not exist. I do think that unicorns needed a new sundial, were on a different time zone, or maybe they were Mexican. Either way they missed the ark to Modern Life. Sometimes my schedule has me on the same trip as the unicorns - especially when I’m home with my Mexican friends who are on SMT (Standard Mexican Time). I’m so focused on trivial things that I miss the great opportunities I have already established. I have quit once before. Don’t be hating, I quit running cross country. I’m not an athlete physically, but mentally-I’m extremely competitive and will beat your ass... while I trip over my feet. Either way I quit cross country because I was too much of a nerd who couldn’t handle school, choir and drum majoring. It really is not that bad, because I only joined cross country for the treats our moms made after every meet... Oh and a boy. I joined for one boy, ended up dating another... and you already know my opinion of love so it really was not hard for me to quit. That being said, I do not believe that dropping a class or stop going to practices is quitting if it not something you are not passion about. Quitting is losing the passion and drive that gives you the reason for living.
I hate when people wish someone happy birthday on facebook but do not tag the person. If you reserve the right to post, then I deserve the right to stalk to decide if your cousin is worth the “like.” There are only two explanations why someone doesn’t tag a person when wishing a happy birthday. The first reason (and most common) the person does not have a facebook. Have you ever thought that it doesn’t matter how many likes you get for wishing your dear Aunt Sally a happy birthday if she cannot see the post? Why even put the greeting on facebook? Why not call Aunt Sally? Do you think people enjoy reading the update in their newsfeed that some person has an Aunt Sally, and its her birthday today? woopie-de-da-doo. The second reason is that the poster is not friends with postee. This goes both ways - the person will not accept the stalker’s friend request and/or the postee does not exist creating a sad illusion that the poster has friends. We all know you’re lying.
I wonder why people open their mouths. Their attempts at witty remarks and thoughtful questions are rather depressing. I am sitting in class today and in a simulation a student actually asked the question, “What is a defensive end?” The other student replied with the most appropriate answer. “The defensive end is... on the defensive line... at the end.” On the days I pray for intellect, I become pleased to know there is someone with lesson common sense than my potential monkey, Rafiki. And I’m no miracle worker - that monkey will occasionally chuck fecal matter as a form of splatter paint on interior walls and as the weapon of choice on unwanted house guests. However, every time I chuckle I feel as if I am saying thank-you, and in a way I am. I am thanking God for the light humor, and parents for withholding information thus creating my object of amusement. Thank you for bringing a smile on my face as the gift of a funny story to tell my roommates when I return from class.