OMG.
AWESOME!
Photos from: here
#687 Turning off all the lights during a thunderstorm
Hey, it’s not like you can play outside, go swimming, ride your bike, or walk to the store. So just flick off the lights, yank open the blinds, and stare out the window at the majestic streaks of bright lightning cracking down all around you.
AWESOME!
Photo from: here
#688 Bailing on a toboggan
When I was six I rode in the front seat of a toboggan that ended up losing control and steering sideways into a barbed wire fence. My forehead shredded, hot tears racing down my cheeks, I learned at that moment that things can unravel real quick on those steep, snow covered hills.
Yes, a rocky start and some poor weight distribution push the toboggan hard into the slick and slippery snow which sprays sharp ice chunks into your eyes and ears. Things get swervy when your buddy jumps off the back which causes you to completely lose control and gain speed just in time to notice the creek bed coming up quick in front of you.
You have no choice at this point. Even though it means hitting the ground hard, twisting your ankle, and possibly rolling down half the hill, you just gotta do it.
Bail for the moment. Bail for the memories.
And bail for your life.
AWESOME!
#689 When somebody holds the elevator door for you
Close door people, we see you.
Don’t pretend you don’t know what we’re talking about. We see you duck into the elevator twenty steps before us in the lobby and tap-tap-tap that Close Door button so you can score a slightly faster ride. What, you think we don’t notice your attempts to avoid eye contact? Oh, we do, and we don’t like you for it, either.
No, the people we like are a different sort of people. They’re Open Door people. They’re the ones with the bruises on their forearms, tapping the Open button, and popping their head out to ask innocently “Going up?”
Why yes, we are going up. Why yes, we would love to share the lift with you. Why yes, we’ll smile and thank you for holding it. And why yes, we’ll keep it open when we see you coming the next time, too.
Now let’s all hug and chug-a-lug home.
AWESOME!
#690 When the person scratching your back finds that one really itchy spot
Congratulations on scoring some back-scratching love.
Convincing a special someone to scrape their fingernails across your unreachables is a big accomplishment. Once the magic starts, make sure you close your eyes, purse your lips, and throw out some deep mmmmm’s to keep it coming.
And sure, there may be some ticklish moments on your shoulder blades, some unnecessary clawing at your lower back fat, but once in a while, when you least expect it, the scratcher will change direction and suddenly move their hands right onto that one really, really itchy spot.
AWESOME!
Photo from: here
#691 When you flip to a radio station just as a song you love is starting
I’m a non-stop twiddler.
Weaving through traffic, speeding down the ramps, cruising through the city, I’ve got one hand on the wheel and the other tapping through the radio dials.
Sure, I swing by for traffic and weather, but then I’m off — checking if the host is back on my main station, cruising by the backups to see what’s playing, or even stopping in for a couple innings of the ball game.
Once in a while I end up on a station I don’t visit very often just as the opening notes are kicking in for one of my old favorites. As the drum kicks and guitar strums jolt my memory back and scratch my brain stem just the right way, I smile and settle in for a few minutes of head-bopping bliss on the drive home.
AWESOME!
Illustration from: here
Photo from: here
#692 Eating the crusts of the sandwich first to save the middle part for last
Nobody wants to finish on a downer.
If you aren’t careful the last bite of your lunch will be a big chomp of dry crusts and lettuce scraps. Your mouth will finish on a lame and boring note with the delicious middle bites from minutes ago lost in a dry, crusty haze.
Don’t let it happen to you!
Put your time in at the beginning, sacrifice early nibbles and take care of all the corners, and set yourself up for a deliciously fresh and soft, ham-and-cheesy finale to finish off your lunch.
AWESOME!
Illustration from: here
Photo from: here
#693 Waking up really thirsty in the morning and finding a glass of water that you can reach from your bed
Maybe you scarfed a salty bag of chips before bed, had a bit too much at the bars, or woke up on a friend’s old pull-out couch with a mouth full of dust and cat hair.
Either way, when you blink your crusty eyes open and feel your mouth scratching like sandpaper, there’s nothing finer than spotting a calmly waiting glass of water lying just in front of your face.
After silently congratulating the you of last night for good planning, you smile slowly, chug it fast, and snuggle back into your dreamy golden slumbers.
AWESOME!
Photo from: here
#694 Screaming at characters in movies to do things
“No!”
“Don’t, don’t, don’t.”
“Don’t, he’s behind the door.”
“Turn around!”
“Turn around, turn around, turn around!”
“Now kiss her, you idiot.”
AWESOME!
Photo from: here
#695 Walking around with a black eye
Last year I went to play badminton with my friend Jon.
Yes, it turned out he was a member of the local racket (hey-ohhhhh!) and was in the business of casually inviting friends to join him for a night as his Doubles Partner.
Now badminton, like all sports, was completely foreign to me so I had a pile of excuses ready when he asked including: “I don’t have a racquet”, “I don’t have a ball”, “I don’t know how to play”, and finally my trusty failsafe “No.”
But Jon would have none of it.
“Come on, I’ll pick you up and drop you off. You can use my extra equipment and I’ll bring a bottle of water for you. Plus, the guys there are really easy going and casual. You’ll have a great time. Come on, it’ll be fun.”
There was a bit of a Mexican standoff as we sized each other up, squinted a bit, and jutted our chins out, but eventually I sucked it up, threw on some sweatpants, and went along for the ride.
Turns out Jon was a liar.
I entered the dimly lit high-school gymnasium to the sight of high-flying Asian superstars spiking the birdie in all directions. Zipping and zooming across the court, they leapt three, four, five feet off the ground, whacking the bird in high-stakes, high-drama back and forth exchanges.
“Oh, it’s not as tough as it looks,” Jon said to my pale and worried face. “And don’t worry — no one cares how good you are. They just want to get some exercise.”
I stared at Jon with a worried glance, but eventually unpeeled my racquet, yanked up my tube socks, shivered a few times, and stepped timidly onto the court, where I proceeded to immediately get beaned in the eye by a well-smacked birdie. People, I’m telling you straight up: I got shuttlecocked.
It happened quick and I dropped my racquet stunned, cupping my eye with both hands and sucking air in loudly like a wheezy Shop-Vac. Throbbing, swelling, bruising fast, I was experiencing the birth of my first-ever black eye.
Thick and dark, purple and navy blue, I sported the big fat shiner for the next week at work. And it felt great, it felt liberating, it felt like I was free — because for once I wasn’t a wimp. No, for a moment I shed my thin, fragile shell and motored around town as a fighting thug with an attitude problem. The black eye screamed “Don’t mess with me”, “Don’t make me do it again”, and “You should see the other guy.”
Now, don’t get me wrong: it’s not great to get nailed in the face. Eyes are delicate little peeled grapes which we don’t want squash balls, door corners, or accelerating fists smacking into. All I’m saying is that if it happens and everything works out fine, then just enjoy that week of walking around with a black eye, tough guy.
AWESOME!
