It’s time to fill your plate with two kinds of pie, Grandma’s homemade squares, a few scattered pieces of fruit, and a big swirl of whipped cream over everything.
Nobody will judge you on Thanksgiving.
Just make sure you use the big plate.
AWESOME!
Photo from: here
Standing is big.
After all, we’re the audience here — we came, we paid, we get to sit down. The deal is we put our feet up, spill popcorn everywhere, and whisper to our friends while you prance about trying to entertain us. Dance your little dance, speech your little speech, play your little play, because we came, we paid, and we get to have our way.
A deal’s a deal.
Oh sure, when everything’s over we’re going to stand up and walk out of here anyway, but our end of the bargain is so scrimpy that standing up thirty seconds earlier is a huge deal. It’s a special sign that this audiences cares, they really care, and it’s not something that happens every day.
Now that one guy who jumps out of their seat before everyone else to get the standing ovation going is pretty gutsy. Blocking views to become the focus point leaves them temporarily naked and alone. Yes, there’s a chance everybody else at the 3D cartoon, library reading, or local debate may just shove past them as they wipe hot tears off their bright red cheeks.
It’s a risky move.
But that’s what makes it so great when that guy gets the whole crowd roaring together. Girl in the hat starts clapping, guy in the jeans starts slapping, then you feel a little rustle as the row behind you stands up … and now it’s on. The theater is rumbling, the music is blaring, and everything’s crashing into
AWESOME!
You’re like a cat.
Maybe it’s Sunday afternoon and you’re exhausted after a long week. Teething babies, bickering boyfriends, everything’s taken its toll. So when you spot that bright sunbeam shining through the window pane it’s time to collapse on the dusty carpet in the front room again.
Dirty dishes and doing laundry can wait.
Now it’s time to feel the warmth on your skin, see the red on your eyelids, and let your brain slip somewhere far, far away.
AWESOME!
Join us on Facebook.
Photo from: here
Man, that’s one long celery stick.
I’m not sure if just one dip in our communal bowl of ranch dressing will be enough to coat that big green stick with enough sauce to get the job done. No, you better dip the second half in too, wet stringy bits and all, so you really get some creamy flavor on that bland crunchiness left in your hand.
Sure, maybe a couple spit molecules slip into the bowl for your best friend or little brother. But we say that’s a small price to pay for well-sauced veggies, salsa coated nacho shards, and dip-covered potato chips.
AWESOME!
Photo from: here
Are you a fourth quarter fan?
Those are the folks who flip the game on with five minutes left to catch the big finish. When it’s a lopsided score they shut it off but when it’s all tied up they think “Good thing I didn’t waste two hours watching everything until now!”
When the score’s tied up near the end of the game it’s time to get ready for the edge-of-your-seat rush.
It all comes down to this.
AWESOME!
I am a terrible baseball player.
When I was in Little League we got to use aluminum bats but they were too heavy for my spaghetti-noodle arms to swing properly. Opponents caught on to my weakness pretty quick and I would stand there in my gray Velcro sneakers watching three straight fastballs fly through the strike zone before trudging back to the dugout like some sort of Guaranteed Strikeout Ghost.
And you know, I’m terrible at basketball, terrible at driving, and pretty terrible at cooking too.
But life ain’t about any of that because it’s just about doing your thing.
Yes, I say whatever your thing is… well that’s what you should do. Because whatever you’re pretty good at… that’s what makes you you.
Thank you so much for letting me do my thing by chatting about awesome things every day with you.
I’m so happy that The Book of (Holiday) Awesome is helping push the AWESOME movement forward in a knock-em-out streetfight against all the negativity, cynicism, and bad news out there.
I say today’s our day to do our thing and keep on moving.
Today’s our day to be
AWESOME!
Bob, Betty, Barry, you don’t know the shame.
Only Bilal, Baxter, and Bernadette know the pain of turning a squeaky metal rack full of tiny plastic doorplates and failing to find their name.
My friend Agostino has a great story about how he found his dad’s name on a toothbrush in Italy. Jaw dropping, eyeballs popping, he couldn’t believe somebody actually stamped “Guido” on a toothbrush.
To this day his dad says it’s his favorite present of all time.
AWESOME!
Photo from: here
My buddy Mike’s a sugar rat.
Whenever I visit his apartment downtown we end up watching movies, playing video games, and ordering pizza. And when we’re done snacking I always turn to him and say, “Hey man, you got any chocolate or anything?” We’re close, me and Mike, and have long passed the point where we’re too polite to only eat when we’re offered food. I’ll hunt around the man’s fridge like it’s my own and I expect him to do the same.
Now the funny thing is that when I ask him, Mike usually just heads to the kitchen and starts hunting through cupboards of really, really old Tupperware, under stale half loaves of bread at the bottom of the freezer, and behind dusty food processors above the fridge. Yes, he hunts until he pulls out a surprise pack of unopened Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups or peels the lid off a brand new tub of ice cream.
My buddy Mike’s a sugar rat.
See, he doesn’t trust himself to have the good stuff in view, so he hides it in the cracks and corners of his place and hopes he’ll forget it. This is known as the Out Of Sight, Out Of Mind Diet Plan, and it seems to work wonders for him. After all, he doesn’t gorge himself on candy bars that much, and whenever a sweet-toothed pal is jonesing for a fix, he just goes hunting until he finds the gold.
I think Mike’s whole theory is the same one behind the entire eggnog industry.
Just think! They’re saying “Here, enjoy this deliciously sweet and creamy drink, but — ah, ah, ah! You can only have it in December. Here, grind some cinnamon on top, spike it with rum, break out the crystal punch glasses for sugary surprise in your mouth, but — ah, ah, ah! There’s none available in the new year.”
And thank goodness, thank gracious, thank God for that.
Because if we drank eggnog all the time we’d get pretty fat.
AWESOME!
My first girlfriend may have been an alien.
Sure, she looked normal, she dressed normal, she seemed normal, but she actually liked those oozing cherry-syrup-in-the-middle chocolates from the chocolate box. You know, the ones wrapped in gold foil and stuffed with that bizarre, mutant sugar-cherry that looked like it was drenched in toxic waste, causing it to glow a strange neon red.
Those were her favorite ones!
Clearly, whenever we split a box I always scored my first overall pick: the dream team of strawberries and cream. Yes, I loved those goopy pink innards oozing out like a smacked bug on a hot windshield and I had no shame with diving into the second layer to mine out all the artificially-flavored strawberry in the entire box. (You know you’re sharing with a pro when only one specific chocolate is missing on both levels.)
So what about you! Do you like the thick fudgy ones that get stuck in your teeth like brown-sugar fillings? Do you prefer those squares with the dry flaky white stuff in them, like expired icing sugar? Do you hunt ruthlessly for the one chocolate truffle, get your Vitamin C with orange cream, or just pop the lid off and swipe the rectangle hunk of plain milk chocolate sitting in the middle?
Well, whatever your pleasures, whatever your tastes, we both know it’s a beautiful moment when you score the chocolate you want from the box. After all, nothing’s worse than when your kid brother loses the little index page and you’re forced to play Russian Chocolate with your picks.
Except maybe coming across a box completely empty except for the cherry.
AWESOME!
Join the awesome movement on Facebook.
Photos from: here
