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(photo: @the_alp_photography)
Hi, I my name’s John. I need to get my life off my chest. About me. I’m a 46 year old banker and I have been living my whole life the opposite of how I wanted. All my dreams, my passion, gone. In a steady 9-7 job. 6 days a week. For 26 years. I repeatedly chose the safe path for everything, which eventually changed who I was.
Today I found out my wife has been cheating on me for the last 10 years. My son feels nothing for me. I realised I missed my father’s funeral FOR NOTHING. I didn’t complete my novel, travelling the world, helping the homeless. All these things I thought I knew to be a certainty about myself when i was in my late teens and early twenties. If my younger self had met me today, I would have punched myself in the face. I’ll get to how those dreams were crushed soon.
Let’s start with a description of me when I was 20. It seemed only yesterday when I was sure I was going to change the world. People loved me, and I loved people. I was innovative, creative, spontaneous, risk-taking and great with people. I had two dreams. The first, was writing a utopic/dystopic book. The second, was travelling the world and helping the poor and homeless. I had been dating my wife for four years by then. Young love. She loved my spontaneity, my energy, my ability to make people laugh and feel loved. I knew my book was going to change the world. I would show the perspective of the ‘bad’ and the ‘twisted’, showing my viewers that everybody thinks differently, that people never think what the do is wrong. I was 70 pages through when i was 20. I am still 70 pages in, at 46. By 20, I had backpacking around New Zealand and the Phillipines. I planned to do all of Asia, then Europe, then America (I live in Australia by the way). To date, I have only been to New Zealand and the Phillipines.
Now, we get to where it all went wrong. My biggest regrets. I was 20. I was the only child. I needed to be stable. I needed to take that graduate job, which would dictate my whole life. To devote my entire life in a 9-7 job. What was I thinking? How could I live, when the job was my life? After coming home, I would eat dinner, prepare my work for the following day, and sleep at 10pm, to wake up at 6am the following day. God, I can’t remember the last time I’ve made love to my wife.
Yesterday, my wife admitted to cheating on me for the last 10 years. 10 years. That seems like a long time, but i can’t comprehend it. It doesn’t even hurt. She says it’s because I’ve changed. I’m not the person I was. What have I been doing in the last 10 years? Outside of work, I really can’t say anything. Not being a proper husband. Not being ME. Who am I? What happened to me? I didn’t even ask for a divorce, or yell at her, or cry. I felt NOTHING. Now I can feel a tear as I write this. But not because my wife has been cheating on me, but because I am now realising I have been dying inside. What happened to that fun-loving, risk-taking, energetic person that was me, hungering to change the world? I remember being asked on a date by the most popular girl in the school, but declining her for my now-wife. God, I was really popular with the girls in high school. In university/college too. But i stayed loyal. I didn’t explore. I studied everyday.
Remember all that backpacking and book-writing I told you about? That was all in the first few years of college. I worked part-time and splurged all that I had earned. Now, I save every penny. I don’t remember a time I spend anything on anything fun. On anything for myself. What do I even want now?
My father passed ten years ago. I remember getting calls from mom, telling me he was getting sicker and sicker. I was getting busier and busier, on the verge of a big promotion. I kept putting my visit off, hoping in my mind he would hold on. He died, and I got my promotion. I haven’t seen him in 15 years. When he died, I told myself it didn’t matter what I didn’t see him. Being an atheist, I rationalized that being dead, it wouldn’t matter anyway. WHAT WAS I THINKING? Rationalizing everything, making excuses to put things off. Excuses. Procrastination. It all leads to one thing, nothing. I rationalized that financial security was the most important thing. I now know, that it definitely is not. I regret doing nothing with my energy, when I had it. My passions. My youth. I regret letting my job take over my life. I regret being an awful husband, a money-making machine. I regret not finishing my novel, not travelling the world. Not being emotionally there for my son. Being a damn emotionless wallet.
If you’re reading this, and you have a whole life ahead of you, please. Don’t procrastinate. Don’t leave your dreams for later. Relish in your energy, your passions. Don’t stay on the internet with all your spare time (unless your passion needs it). Please, do something with your life while your young. DO NOT settle down at 20. DO NOT forget your friends, your family. Yourself. Do NOT waste your life. Your ambitions. Like I did mine. Do not be like me.
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I arrived for work that morning on the 77th. floor of World Trade Center tower 2 (WTC2) around 8:00AM. It was a bright beautiful morning, and you could see seemingly forever out the floor to ceiling windows of the building. My company had offices on the 77th. and 78th. floors. My office was on 77 facing WTC1 (the north tower).
I was standing in the hallway outside my office talking to a co-worker, when I heard a tremendous explosion at 8:46AM. I looked into my office (office wall was floor-to-ceiling glass) and saw a gaping hole in the South side of WTC1. We had no idea what had happened. No part of the plane was visible (it had hit WTC1 from the North–the opposite side from where my office faced).
Eventually word filtered in from somewhere that it was a plane that hit the building. We didn’t know whether it was a commercial jet or a private plane like a Gulfstream. It also didn’t occur to me at the time that it was a terrorist attack. I just assumed it was a terrible accident.
At some point I saw people appear at the edge of the gaping hole. Smoke was pouring out, and while I don’t recall seeing much in the way of flames, it was clear that there was a raging fire going on inside the building. I saw a number of people jump to their death, desperate to get away from the heat/flames.
It’s hard to express what I felt at that point, because I can only describe it as shock. Your mind cannot really comprehend what is happening–almost an overload state. You see it with your eyes, but you are somehow mentally detached from it at the same time.
I called my wife to let her know what was happening. She was just walking out of Penn Station on her way to work. I quickly apprised her of the situation, and told her that within a few minutes there would probably be pandemonium as people learned what had happened. I assured her that I was OK, and my building was not impacted. I told her I’d call her again when I could.
Many of my co-workers began to leave the building immediately after the plane hit. For various reasons, I decided to stay. This was partially because I believed that it was an accident and I was in no immediate danger. I was head of technology for a financial information firm at the time. Based on what I was seeing, I figured it might be days or weeks before we could return to our offices, so there were many things I needed to attend to so that operations could be moved to an off-site location.
At some point, I left my office and took the escalator in our space up to the 78th. floor. We had a large conference room there with a projector and cable TV, so I wanted to get the news on to see what was happening. I turned on CNN. Information looked pretty sketchy, but I decided to return to 77 to inform my remaining co-workers that I had TV coverage on upstairs if they wanted to come up.
I returned to my office and decided to call my mother. A few seconds after hanging up the phone at 9:03AM, I felt a violent jolt, and then a falling sensation. I remember thinking that the building was coming down and it was the end. The impact caused the building to sway heavily. It was actually designed to sway to a certain degree as the towers have to withstand high winds on a regular basis, but this was far beyond anything I’d ever felt before.
Eventually the building stabilized. Much of the ceiling had come down, and I could feel the breeze from blown out windows on the other side of the floor. This felt oddly disconcerting since none of the windows were designed to open in the WTC.
At that point I honestly didn’t know what had happened. Strangely enough, my first thought was that WTC1 somehow exploded and what we experiencing was the impact of that.
I found myself outside my office with a number of co-workers. There was tons of dust and debris in the air and the electricity was out. While I was covered in dust and other particles, I was not injured. We (about 10 of us) made our way to the stairwell on the NE side of the building.
Upon arriving at the stairwell, we ran into some people who had apparently just come down from the 78th floor. One woman had a severe laceration on her arm. While the wound was quite serious, it did not appear to be life threatening. There was some brief discussion about going up (I cannot recall why), but the injured woman or someone she was with mentioned that everyone was dead on the 78th floor.
I later found out that United Airlines flight 175 had slammed into the southwest face of the tower, creating an impact hole that extended from the 78th to 84th floors. Apparently the conference room that I had been standing in just a few minutes before was now obliterated. Had I decided to stay up on 78 instead of returning to my office when I did, I would not be alive today.
Tragically two co-workers who I considered personal friends, took an opposite path that day, making their way from the 77th. floor to their offices on the 78th. floor just before the impact. I never saw them again.
Seemingly insignificant decisions a person made that day determined whether they lived or died. It’s still something that’s a bit hard to fully come to terms with.
Unbeknownst to me at the time, my wife had arrived at work at the midtown financial firm where she worked, right around the time my building was hit. The WTC towers were clearly visible from the trading floor of her firm. While we’d spoken earlier and she knew I was OK, that was before the second plane hit WTC2. She knew I was still in the building at the time, and she knew what floor I worked on, so at that point, she had no idea whether I was still alive.
Once we got into the 77th floor stairwell, I recall jet fuel pouring down the stairs. I mentioned previously I was definitely in some form of shock at that time and not thinking rationally. Having worked as a baggage handler at JFK airport for a summer (ironically for United Airlines of all companies), I knew what jet fuel smelled like. Still, I could not put one and one together and make the connection that a jetliner had just crashed into the building only a few feet above my head and split open, spilling the contents of its fuel tanks into the building core.
We slowly made our way down the 77 flights of stairs. A woman there who worked for me at the time was about 6 months pregnant, so we went slowly in order to stay with her and help her down.
At some point, I remember passing a number of firefighters heading up the stairs. They had a full set of gear on, and they looked weary and frightened, yet they continued up past us. It’s hard to put into words what I feel for the firefighters who sacrificed everything that day in order to try to help others. Reverence is about as close as I can get.
Eventually we exited the stairwell and made our way into the mall connecting the WTC complex. I recall thinking that we were still alive and basically were out of danger. It was then that I saw police officers or firefighters yelling and waving at us frantically to get out of the building, and we quickened our pace.
We exited the mall in the NE corner near the Millennium hotel. We were standing on the street and it was chaos. I was with a colleague and my boss at the time. There was debris falling off the building, and my boss suggested we get out of the area.
We began walking North. We had gotten maybe 5 blocks away when we heard a large rumble and saw a massive dust cloud to the South of us from the direction we came. Word eventually filtered up through the crowd that WTC2 where my office resided, had just fallen. It was a strange and surreal experience. Thoughts flooded through my mind like, how many people just lost their life? Do I still have a job? Even a mental inventory of the things that were in my office that no longer existed.
Words with my co-workers which I cannot recall were exchanged, and I decided to set off on my own to try to get home and reach my family to let them know I was OK. I eventually walked over the Williamsburg Bridge, caught a bus in Brooklyn heading for Queens, and then flagged down a gypsy cab in Queens to take me to my home in Port Washington, Long Island.
I eventually got through to my family via phone to let them know I was safe. I also spoke with the president of the company who was down in Florida at the time. He later told me that I was speaking very quickly and not making much sense. I guess the events of the day had taken their toll on me.
I made it home a number of hours later. My mother-in-law was there with my daughters, but my wife was still trying to make her way home. I walked in and hugged my two daughters like I had never hugged them before.
The rest of the night was mostly a blur. I spent most of it on the phone trying to account for every employee in the company. It was emotionally draining, but necessary work. I think I collapsed for a couple of hours, and then was picked up by one of the guys that worked for me to head to Philadelphia where my company had a smaller office.
I recall driving down the Brooklyn Queens Expressway and passing the downtown area, seeing a massive plume of smoke still rising from the WTC site. I can only describe it as surreal.
At some point during the trip I received a phone call from a relative of an employee who had not yet been heard from. I tried to remember where and when I had last seen the person. It was one of the most difficult and emotional conversations I’ve ever had in my life.
We arrived in Philadelphia later that morning to ensure that we had accounted for all of our employees to the best of our ability, and then to set about the task of trying to resurrect a business that was basically in tatters.
I still had not had a chance to really process what had happened, but I realized that unless we immediately got to work, hundreds of people were going to lose their jobs.
It wasn’t until later that night when I checked into my hotel, about 36 hours after it had all begun, that I had a chance to turn on the TV and watch a full account of the events. Sitting there in front of the TV, it was like a floodgate had opened, and my mind finally had a chance to deal with the tragedy and all the emotions that went with it.
I lost four friends and co-workers that day who will forever be in my heart. I try to live every day to the fullest, to honor their lives, and the lives of others who perished that day.
– Jonathan Weinberg
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Lepa Svetozara Radić was a Bosnian Serb member of the Yugoslav Partisans during World War II in Yugoslavia who was posthumously awarded the Order of the People’s Hero on 20 December 1951, for her role in the resistance movement against the Axis powers—becoming the youngest recipient at the time. She was executed in February 1943 at the age of 17 for shooting at German troops during World War II. As her captors tied the noose around her neck, they offered her a way out of the gallows by revealing her comrades’ and leaders’ identities. She responded that she was not a traitor and that they would reveal themselves when they avenged her death
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Being Mortal: explores the relationships doctors have with patients who are nearing the end of life. The film investigates the practice of caring for the dying, and shows how doctors are often remarkably untrained, ill-suited and uncomfortable talking about chronic illness and death with their patients – PBS
Viewership for Miss America 2019 plunges 23% after swimsuit portion is cut – NY Daily News
If you want to be presentable down there for some lucky lady, this is the best tool out there – Amazon
IKEA Serves Up Kangaroo Meatballs – Man Of Many
9 Apps to Try if You Want to Learn Something New Every Day – Gizmodo
What It Was Like Working At Apple To Create The First iPhone – Quartz
The clever psychology of Disneyland’s design – Fast Co
The States With The Best And Worst Life Expectancy, Mapped – Digg
Photo of young Marshawn Lynch will blow your mind – AOL
Second Anonymous Op-Ed by Senior WH Official Published – Medium
The aftermath of people who have been attacked by bears – Imgur
These caffeinated mints are nice to have just in case you are short on time need a quick boost – Amazon
10 Creepiest Photos Of Victims Taken By Serial Killers – Listverse
‘I’m sad that I didn’t have sex until I was 37’ – BBC
For 40 Years, This Russian Family Was Cut Off From All Human Contact, Unaware of World War II – Smithsonian
China Is Detaining Muslims in Vast Numbers. The Goal: ‘Transformation.’ – NY Times
Meet College Athlete Georgia Ellenwood – G-Ceeb
This Is How To Raise Emotionally Intelligent Kids: 5 Secrets From Research – Barking Up The Wrong Tree
Britney Spears Slutty Bikini Selfies of the Day – Drunken Stepfather
20 Cooking Tips That Can Save Your Time and Nerve – Bright Side
Guy Smashes Vending Machine To Steal Sex Doll – Unilad
Bad First Impressions and How to Recover – The Art of Manliness
15 Natural Insomnia Cures That You Haven’t Tried But Actually Work – Life Hack
Why Is College in America So Expensive? – The Atlantic
3 Money Milestones Everyone Should Reach by 30 – Fool
Perfect naturals on this cute girl (nsfw) – Leenks
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(photo: @mahkeo)
How then can you wonder at good men being shaken, in order that they may be strengthened? No tree which the wind does not often blow against is firm and strong; for it is stiffened by the very act of being shaken, and plants its roots more securely: those which grow in a sheltered valley are brittle: and so it is to the advantage of good men, and causes them to be undismayed, that they should live much amidst alarms, and learn to bear with patience what is not evil save to him who endures it ill.
Of Providence – Seneca
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On October 16th George Lusk, the president of the Whitechapel Vigilance Committee, received a three-inch-square cardboard box in his mail. Inside was half a human kidney preserved in wine, along with the following letter. Medical reports carried out by Dr. Openshaw found the kidney to be very similar to the one removed from Catherine Eddowes, though his findings were inconclusive either way. The letter read as follows:
From hell.
Mr Lusk,
Sor
I send you half the Kidne I took from one woman and prasarved it for you tother piece I fried and ate it was very nise. I may send you the bloody knif that took it out if you only wate a whil longer
signed
Catch me when you can Mishter Lusk
The shelter was named the “four penny coffin” because its sleeping quarters consisted of rows of coffin-shaped beds where homeless people could spend the night for a sum of four pennies. The four penny coffin was popular because it was cheaper than several small shelters that existed at the time, and its clients praised it because the Salvation Army allowed them to actually lie down and sleep on their backs.
Those who could only come up with a single penny were allowed to sit on the shelter’s benches and rest, but they weren’t allowed to sleep and the shelter’s officials monitored the rooms at night to shake any poor folks who closed their eyes and drifted into a troubled slumber.
A Japanese plane caught squarely by antiaircraft fire leaves a trail of smoke and flame as it falls toward the ocean. The pilot might have already been dead by the time the bomber was going down; getting knocked out would probably be a small mercy compared to being burnt alive or drowning. There’s a passage from an autobiography of a Second World War British bomber crew member called “In for a Penny, in for a Pound”: he describes that if they were to survive a crash but find themselves completely stuck in a burning wreck, they were instructed to stick their face in the flames and breath in. Their lungs would be incinerated from the heat, making them pass out, allowing a quicker and less painful death than being burned alive.
Major-General Horatio Gordon Robley was a British army officer and artist who served in New Zealand during the New Zealand land wars in the 1860s. He was interested in ethnology and fascinated by the art of tattooing as well as being a talented illustrator. He wrote the book Maori Tattooing which was published in 1896. After he returned to England he built up a notable collection of 35 mokomokai (Maori tattooed heads). In 1908 he offered them to the New Zealand Government for £1,000; his offer, however, was refused. Later, with the exception of five heads, the collection was purchased by the Natural History Museum, New York, for £1,250.
Moko facial tattoos were traditional in Māori culture until about the mid 19th century when their use began to disappear, although there has been something of a revival from the late 20th century. In pre-European Māori culture they denoted high social status. There were generally only men that had full facial moko, though high-ranked women often had moko on their lips and chins. Moko tattoos served as identifying connection between an individual and their ancestors.
When someone with moko died, often the head would be preserved. The brain and eyes were removed, with all orifices sealed with flax fibre and gum. The head was then boiled or steamed in an oven before being smoked over an open fire and dried in the sun for several days. It was then treated with shark oil. Such preserved heads, called mokomokai, would be kept by their families in ornately-carved boxes and brought out only for sacred ceremonies.
The heads of enemy chiefs killed in battle were also preserved; these mokomokai, being considered trophies of war, would be displayed on the marae and mocked. They were important in diplomatic negotiations between warring tribes, with the return and exchange of mokomokai being an essential precondition for peace.
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In the early hours of Thursday morning, Holly Butcher quietly passed away surrounded by her loved ones.
The 27-year-old from Grafton in NSW had Ewing’s sarcoma, a rare form of cancer which mostly affects young people.
In the weeks leading up to her death, Holly began to face her own mortality. She grieved for all the milestones she’d never get to experience, the kids she’d never get to have, and the future she’d never get to build with the love of her life.
She also spent hours reflecting on her life so far and thinking about what really matters in the grand scheme of things.
Holly then penned an open letter to all of us, which her family shared on her Facebook page after she died.
It’s a strange thing to realise and accept your mortality at 26 years young. It’s just one of those things you ignore. The days tick by and you just expect they will keep on coming; Until the unexpected happens. I always imagined myself growing old, wrinkled and grey- most likely caused by the beautiful family (lots of kiddies) I planned on building with the love of my life. I want that so bad it hurts.
That’s the thing about life; It is fragile, precious and unpredictable and each day is a gift, not a given right.
I’m 27 now. I don’t want to go. I love my life. I am happy.. I owe that to my loved ones. But the control is out of my hands.
I haven’t started this ‘note before I die’ so that death is feared – I like the fact that we are mostly ignorant to it’s inevitability.. Except when I want to talk about it and it is treated like a ‘taboo’ topic that will never happen to any of us.. That’s been a bit tough. I just want people to stop worrying so much about the small, meaningless stresses in life and try to remember that we all have the same fate after it all so do what you can to make your time feel worthy and great, minus the bullshit.
I have dropped lots of my thoughts below as I have had a lot of time to ponder life these last few months. Of course it’s the middle of the night when these random things pop in my head most!
Those times you are whinging about ridiculous things (something I have noticed so much these past few months), just think about someone who is really facing a problem. Be grateful for your minor issue and get over it. It’s okay to acknowledge that something is annoying but try not to carry on about it and negatively effect other people’s days.
Once you do that, get out there and take a freaking big breath of that fresh Aussie air deep in your lungs, look at how blue the sky is and how green the trees are; It is so beautiful. Think how lucky you are to be able to do just that – breathe.
You might have got caught in bad traffic today, or had a bad sleep because your beautiful babies kept you awake, or your hairdresser cut your hair too short. Your new fake nails might have got a chip, your boobs are too small, or you have cellulite on your arse and your belly is wobbling.
Let all that shit go.. I swear you will not be thinking of those things when it is your turn to go. It is all SO insignificant when you look at life as a whole. I’m watching my body waste away right before my eyes with nothing I can do about it and all I wish for now is that I could have just one more Birthday or Christmas with my family, or just one more day with my partner and dog. Just one more.
I hear people complaining about how terrible work is or about how hard it is to exercise – Be grateful you are physically able to. Work and exercise may seem like such trivial things … until your body doesn’t allow you to do either of them.
I tried to live a healthy life, in fact, that was probably my major passion. Appreciate your good health and functioning body- even if it isn’t your ideal size. Look after it and embrace how amazing it is. Move it and nourish it with fresh food. Don’t obsess over it.
Remember there are more aspects to good health than the physical body.. work just as hard on finding your mental, emotional and spiritual happiness too. That way you might realise just how insignificant and unimportant having this stupidly portrayed perfect social media body really is.. While on this topic, delete any account that pops up on your news feeds that gives you any sense of feeling shit about yourself. Friend or not.. Be ruthless for your own well-being.
Be grateful for each day you don’t have pain and even the days where you are unwell with man flu, a sore back or a sprained ankle, accept it is shit but be thankful it isn’t life threatening and will go away.
Whinge less, people! .. And help each other more.
Give, give, give. It is true that you gain more happiness doing things for others than doing them for yourself. I wish I did this more. Since I have been sick, I have met the most incredibly giving and kind people and been the receiver of the most thoughtful and loving words and support from my family, friends and strangers; More than I could I ever give in return. I will never forget this and will be forever grateful to all of these people.
It is a weird thing having money to spend at the end.. when you’re dying. It’s not a time you go out and buy material things that you usually would, like a new dress. It makes you think how silly it is that we think it is worth spending so much money on new clothes and ‘things’ in our lives.
Buy your friend something kind instead of another dress, beauty product or jewellery for that next wedding. 1. No-one cares if you wear the same thing twice 2. It feels good. Take them out for a meal, or better yet, cook them a meal. Shout their coffee. Give/ buy them a plant, a massage or a candle and tell them you love them when you give it to them.
Value other people’s time. Don’t keep them waiting because you are shit at being on time. Get ready earlier if you are one of those people and appreciate that your friends want to share their time with you, not sit by themselves, waiting on a mate. You will gain respect too! Amen sister.
This year, our family agreed to do no presents and despite the tree looking rather sad and empty (I nearly cracked Christmas Eve!), it was so nice because people didn’t have the pressure of shopping and the effort went into writing a nice card for each other. Plus imagine my family trying to buy me a present knowing they would probably end up with it themselves.. strange! It might seem lame but those cards mean more to me than any impulse purchase could. Mind you, it was also easier to do in our house because we had no little kiddies there. Anyway, moral of the story- presents are not needed for a meaningful Christmas. Moving on.
Use your money on experiences.. Or at least don’t miss out on experiences because you spent all your money on material shit.
Put in the effort to do that day trip to the beach you keep putting off. Dip your feet in the water and dig your toes in the sand. Wet your face with salt water.
Get amongst nature.
Try just enjoying and being in moments rather than capturing them through the screen of your phone. Life isn’t meant to be lived through a screen nor is it about getting the perfect photo.. enjoy the bloody moment, people! Stop trying to capture it for everyone else.
Random rhetorical question. Are those several hours you spend doing your hair and make up each day or to go out for one night really worth it? I’ve never understood this about females
.
Get up early sometimes and listen to the birds while you watch the beautiful colours the sun makes as it rises.
Listen to music.. really listen. Music is therapy. Old is best.
Cuddle your dog. Far out, I will miss that.
Talk to your friends. Put down your phone. Are they doing okay?
Travel if it’s your desire, don’t if it’s not.
Work to live, don’t live to work.
Seriously, do what makes your heart feel happy.
Eat the cake. Zero guilt.
Say no to things you really don’t want to do.
Don’t feel pressured to do what other people might think is a fulfilling life.. you might want a mediocre life and that is so okay.
Tell your loved ones you love them every time you get the chance and love them with everything you have.
Also, remember if something is making you miserable, you do have the power to change it – in work or love or whatever it may be. Have the guts to change. You don’t know how much time you’ve got on this earth so don’t waste it being miserable. I know that is said all the time but it couldn’t be more true.
Anyway, that’s just this one young gals life advice. Take it or leave it, I don’t mind!
Oh and one last thing, if you can, do a good deed for humanity (and myself) and start regularly donating blood. It will make you feel good with the added bonus of saving lives. I feel like it is something that is so overlooked considering every donation can save 3 lives! That is a massive impact each person can have and the process really is so simple.
Blood donation (more bags than I could keep up with counting) helped keep me alive for an extra year – a year I will be forever grateful that I got to spend it here on Earth with my family, friends and dog. A year I had some of the greatest times of my life.
..’Til we meet again.
Hol
Xoxo
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What It’s Like Dating a Psychopath – The Cut
Pittsburgh high school to have school active shooter drill with blanks shot in hallways to expose students to the sound of gunfire – WPXI
Use this pre and post alcohol consumption and you will never get a hangover – Amazon
What It’s Like to Be Financially Dependent on Your Wife – Mel Magazine
Video shows two customers rob a gas station after clerk has a heart attack in front of them – YouTube
Intimacy—and What it Really Means – Goop
5 Supplements On Amazon That Actually Work! – Awesome Galore
What Makes Someone a Night Owl or a Morning Person? – Curiosity
How Led Zeppelin Came to Be – Rolling Stone
NY Teacher Performs Oral Sex On 14-Year-Old. Her Sentence Is Outrageous – Daily Wire
9 Myths About Sex You Should Stop Believing – Pure Wow
If you have thinning hair, this stuff works like magic! – Amazon
More and more men are getting plastic surgery. A doctor explains why – VOX
Six Dead, Including Gunman And His Wife, In Bakersfield Shooting Rampage – LA Times
Pregnant Mother of 4 Killed in Crash with Allegedly Intoxicated Boxer Who Live Streamed Aftermath – Yahoo
Five foods that increase your psychological well-being – Big Think
500 Greatest Albums Of All Time – Spotify
How to Raise a Reader – NY Times
Emma Watson as Wonder Woman of the Day – Drunken Stepfather
10 Craziest Facts About Drug Lord, Griselda Blanco – Listverse
– Sky
Cleavage game is strong with this one! – Ehowa
Suspect is Killed in Shootout With Officers at Traffic Stop – Live Leak
How Much Should You Spend Remodeling A House For Maximum Profit – Financial Samurai
Perfect Naturals (nsfw) – Leenks
Someone Has Been Installing Crack Pipe Vending Machines In New York – All That Is Interesting
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(photo: @huyphan2602)
If your ambition is to get good with girls, there’s one immutable law of game that you must recognize and accept right now – you will face rejection.
Unfortunately, even for the most experienced and best-looking players, rejection is simply an integral part of the process.
People have a natural tendency to avoid situations and feelings that are uncomfortable. If you put your hand in the fire, it’s going to hurt. Therefore our inclination is to protect ourselves as far as possible from adversity.
There’s no two ways about it – rejection is painful. When you walk up to a smoking hot girl, say hi and she ignores you, mumbles something and walks off, or worse insults you to your face, then you will feel terrible – at first. Why? Some game theorists link it back to our tribal requirement for acceptance. To get knocked back in prehistoric times meant excommunication from your social set, violence, or even death.
Of course, in the vast majority of normal interactions we face none of that today. But rejection remains a deep fear of many who are new to game, and even persists to some extent in those who’ve been macking chicks forever.
This is because when you approach a woman you are putting yourself on the line in a fundamental manner that is extremely unusual in any other area of life. Essentially, you are presenting yourself to another person and asking them to judge your fitness as a sexual prospect, even as a human being.
We live in a society where we are increasingly protected from taking personal responsibility. “Team work” is the norm, and if the team fails, then it’s not entirely your fault, right? PC culture with its insistence on egalitarianism posits that everyone is equal and that any failure is not the fault of the individual, but must be attributed to circumstances beyond his control – his upbringing, his social background and so on.
Suckling on the teat of these comfortable notions for most of our lives, we are encouraged to believe that when we don’t measure up it is someone else’s fault.
Unfortunately, in the cruel arena of the sexual marketplace, there is nowhere to hide. Some people say that rejection in game is not personal. I am inclined to disagree. I think it ispersonal in many cases. True, she could be married or simply a bitch, but generally speaking if a girl turns you down, she does so based on the manner in which you present yourself – your personality, your looks, your dress sense. Your degree of masculine dominance – or lack thereof. You put yourself forward to be judged and you were found lacking.
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Both professionally and in my personal life, I know a bunch of people that refuse to admit to having made a mistake. When I mess up (and we all do at some point,) I just own up to it right away. By accepting responsibility, apologizing, and saying what I’ll do to keep it from happening again, I not only avoid getting a lecture about whatever I did wrong, I also get thanked by my boss/friend/whoever.
Caveman Recommends: ARRIS SURFboard DOCSIS 3.0
The burst of oxygen will keep you from hitting the snooze button, and will make it easier to get out of bed and get moving.
In the US volunteermatch.org www.unitedway.org/get-involved/volunteer#
If they ask which company, tell them it’s none of their business. Many people looking for homes to rob will come to your door asking about security systems. It gives them a chance to case the home and look for weaknesses like if you don’t have a dog or if the house is homed by women or the elderly.
It’s the exact same stuff but the foam you can buy in packs of twenty for a few dollars.
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An Alberta couple forced to sell their late son’s classic car to raise money for their orphaned grandchildren’s medical expenses received a heartwarming surprise when the community bought the vehicle at auction – then gave it back to them.
Ben and Marilyn Keryluke’s son Brent and his wife Nicole were killed in a motorcycle crash just east of Innisfail, Alta., south of Red Deer, on May 5. The young couple’s three-year-old son Liam and six-year-old daughter Arielle have been in the care of their grandparents since the accident.
Since grandparents Ben and Marilyn have been caring for the children, they are anticipating an influx of medical bills as a means of treating the kids for their hearing impairments.
In order to pay for the new expenses, the Kerylukes made the painful decision to auction off their son’s beloved 1973 Pontiac Parisienne. Brent had hoped to pass on the classic car to his son Liam on his 18th birthday.
“The kids spent a lot of time in the garage with their dad so the car means a lot to the kids,” Ben said. “It’s been part of their life for the last few years.”
On Saturday, the Kerylukes put Brent’s car on the auction block at Electric Garage Auctions. Just before the bidding began for the Pontiac Parisienne, the auctioneer shared the Kerylukes’ story with the crowd.
EGA posted a video of the auction to their Facebook page this weekend. At 4 minutes and 30 seconds, the choked-up auctioneer has trouble keeping his voice in check because of the sheer emotion behind the children’s story.
At 7 minutes and 15 seconds, the car is finally sold for $29,000 – but then, the buyer donates the car back so that it can be donated a second time. At 8 minutes and 30 seconds, it is bought for $30,000 and then it is donated back again. At 9 minutes, the car is sold for a third time for $20,000.
The kindness doesn’t stop there, either – several people made individual donations to the family, bringing the total to roughly $100,000. The final buyer then ended up donating the car back to the Keryluke family so that Arielle and Luke could inherit it when they’re older.
In addition to the funds raised during the auction, a GoFundMe page has collected more than $80,000 for the children.
“After this happened, it’s impossible to sell the car now,” Ben said.
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After suffering from Cystic Fibrosis her entire life, Jennifer is taking her first unobstructed breath after her lung transplant when the breathing tube is removed. Her face is simply magical!
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