Nothing’s worse than popping into first and noticing you’re flirting with the big E.

Suddenly you’re late for work, the date’s on hold, and your party’s stalled in the parking lot. Yes, jumping in a car and noticing it’s out of gas ranks pretty high on 1000 Annoying Things, that non-existent netherlist we’ve mentioned before that also features #989 Realizing later in the day you missed a spot shaving, #988 When the person calls you back instead of listening to the voicemail you just left, and #987 When the cashier needs to replace the receipt tape in the middle of your transaction.

Yes, that’s why getting in the car with a superfull tank is such a great feeling. Your car pardner left a little surprise in the driveway and now you’re as far as possible from making an annoying pump run. Plus, isn’t it always hilarious when that little orange arm nudges itself up even higher than Full on the gas gauge, too? That’s when it’s winking at you saying “Okay, I was lying about the size of the tank. But now I seriously can’t take another drop.”

When it’s stuffed and you’re smiling it’s time to fly down the streets, baby. You’re rocking the full tank, you’re rocking the highway, and you’re rocking along feeling

AWESOME!

Photos from: here and here

It’s there for a reason.

Whether you’re shredding your legs on a raspberry bush, scalding your hand in hot water, or taking an arrow to the chest in the forest, I got bad news for you, brother: that’s gonna hurt. Yes, when our bodies take blows those powerful jolts make us cry salty tears, run for the hills, or crashland in hospital beds with limbs hanging everywhere.

But that pain really is there for three big reasons:

1. Stop! … Bandaid time. The first thing pain does is make you stop doing that painful thing you’re doing. Your brain focuses every neuron on getting you out of Danger Bay and returning you to Safety Beach. Stop! You’re lawnmowing your foot. Stop! You’re leaning on an oven burner. Stop! You’re dancing in much too baggy pants.

2. Long Live the Cast. Pain reminds us to take care of injured body parts so they can heal. We lean on crutches so our ankles can untwist, plaster broken arms so bones can set, and bandage cuts to prevent infections. Throbbing migraines send us to dark rooms and bum knees get us limping because that’s we need, sister. Pain’s just whispering advice to send us down the road to good health.

3. Fool me twice, shame on me. Pain’s whole plan is to get us to stop doing painful things long term. Think of pain as cranky granny shaking it’s finger when you sheepishly come schlepping up the front walk battered and bruised. “No more running through raspberry bushes, mister,” she starts. “No more checking hot water with your fingers. And stop playing medieval battle games in the forest.”

Now, if all that wasn’t enough, our egghead pals over at Wikipedia even report that people who don’t feel pain actually live shorter lives. Maybe that’s because pain’s just there to do a job for us. It motivates us to flee hurtin’ scenes, protects our body while it heals, and teaches us to avoid painful places in the future.

Pain’s our invisible Life Coach, sewn in to our bones, twisted in our DNA, and helping us all keep strong as we keep motoring on.

AWESOME!

Photos from: here, here, here, and here

Last year my friend Baxter popped a champagne cork off his head.

Yes, he bent over the bottle, gritted his teeth and twisted, and managed to shoot that cork like a speeding bullet right smack off his forehead. He stared up with his mouth forming a giant O of shock as bubbles foamed up and dripped on the carpet and a painful dark red bruise slowly formed right between his eyebrows.

Still sounded cool, though.

AWESOME!

Photo from: here

What a trip.

It’s always a big moment when the flickering screen features one of these special scenes:

1. The Hometown Spotlight. This is when the characters come visit the city you live in. Nope, don’t matter if it’s terrorists fleeing the country, teen lovers filling gas on a road trip, or Batman batflying around the world to kidnap someone from a glass building. All that matters is that you get a little connection with the flick and feel proud your local spot is on display. (Note: Hometown Spotlight may not apply in New York, L.A., or London.)

2. The Local Understudy. Here’s when you spot your hometown in the movie, but it’s playing the part of another city. Sure, they tried to fool you with the yellow New York taxi cabs or a couple skyline shots, but you spotted your city hall and a local newspaper box in the background. If you’re watching the flick in your basement, The Local Understudy sometimes features someone pulling out their cell phone and spending twenty long minutes confirming all the shoot locations.

3. The Suitcase Connection. Here’s when you and the characters share a travel spot. Maybe their budding romance takes them to your Honeymoon hotspot, their college classes take place on your old campus, or their raging, out-of-control Spring Break parties reminds you of your entirely appropriate and tasteful Spring Break parties.

No matter what, when characters in movies visit places you know they suddenly break through the screen and form a tiny little bond with you. Now in addition to the story, you’re suddenly wiretapping into secret memories and moments in your rusty brain. Nostalgia bombs go off as you see your old college gym and remember the heartbreak of getting cut from the junior team… smiles curl when Buddy the Elf gets a job where you once held hands with a young love on a chilly night … and hearts twist over forgotten trips as you relive old moments with friends from your past…

AWESOME!

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Photos from: here and here

The nine to five brought you together.

Cracking jokes by the copier, swapping stories on the line, laughing in the lunchroom, you found a friend between policies, procedures, and paperwork. When you got together you started noticing you were just you, just hanging out, just laughing about your day.

Then one day your friendship zoomed to a new level. Maybe you grabbed a beer one night, got a surprise birthday invite, or became new texting pals.

Yes, you turned a work friend into an outside-of-work friend, baby. It wasn’t easy but you took the chance, you made the leap, and now you’re rocking with someone new.

AWESOME!

Photo from: here

What’s up, instructions?

Why you gotta be recommending water in our pancakes, hot chocolate, and jello pudding? Why you trying to blandify our oatmeal, brownie mixes, and cream of mushroom soup?

Look, we’re sorry but there’s new chef in the kitchen and things are going to be a little different from now on. We’re talking creamier hot chocolate, puffier pancakes, and brownies that will make tears of joy spray out your eyes like a sprinkler system.

We’re talking about using milk instead of water, baby.

AWESOME!

Photo from: here and here

We’ve all got some.

Just the other day my friend Vanessa and I were grabbing breakfast when we started talking about guilty pleasure songs. As I doused a tower of pancakes in a tidal wave of syrup we laughed about those songs you don’t really tell your friends about. You know, it’s those tracks on your iPod you’re afraid someone will find, your secret bubblegum pop playlist with the ironic title, or the last track on a distant mix CD that still pulls powerful strings on your achy breaky heart.

One of Vanessa’s guilty pleasures is The Sign by Ace of Base. Apparently her younger siblings got into it and at first the sugar-coated pop perfection swished and swirled together with Spice Girls and Backstreet Boys beats rising from their basement dance parties. But as she grew up The Sign separated itself and lodged firmly in her brain. Yes, it planted roots and settled in, growing catchy hooks… and fond memories.

For years Vanessa tried pretending her love for The Sign was ironic even though she knew deep down in her heart it was incredibly sincere. Her love never faded and the song kept making its way onto personal playlists and late night dream listens before falling asleep.

The good news is that as Vanessa got older she grew to accept the song, accept her musical loves, and most of all, accept herself. And maybe that’s the secret: Guilty pleasure songs are only guilty until you shout them to the world. So go ahead and don’t worry, we won’t judge you, because we have soft spots for The Bangles, Lionel Ritchie, and Toto, too.

AWESOME!

Photos from: here

Stare into those eyes.

Pupils grow wide and hearts thump fast as brains jolt and thoughts rollercoaster around. Conversation jumbles and stumbles before fading into footnotes as fingers touch and linger, thoughts twist together, and eye contact drifts and sways before catching and connecting as everything goes quiet…

AWESOME!

Photo from: here

My sister and I killed Dale.

Well, to be honest, the poor goldfish didn’t stand a chance. Nina was six and I was seven when my parents let us have our first pet and the slippery slugger swam in our front hallway for ten happy days before being savagely murdered by overfeeding.

See, we wanted to show Dale our love so much we cleaned his bowl regularly, taped ocean drawings to the back of his home, and fed him every time our TV show went to commercial break.

He wasn’t a suicidal glutton when we got him but we turned him into one. It broke our hearts to flush him down the toilet and we cried hot salty tears as we watched his tiny orange body swirl furiously into the sewer system.

Dale was the first pet I ever had.

Dale was the last pet I ever had.

My brain tried for years to forget him … but my heart just never could.

Sure, I took baby steps, moving forward, moving on, hitting the books in high school, driving off to college, and finally coming back to the big city a new person, a different person, with all my pet-murdering baggage behind me.

Pets completely disappeared from my life. I skipped their stink aisle in the grocery store, avoided eye contact with dogs on the sidewalk, and told friends my allergies prevented me from scratching their cat’s disgusting belly.

But this all changed a few years ago when I found myself living with a girlfriend who needed to dog sit for her parents for a few weeks. I wasn’t working at the time so I became the primary doggiver.

Toby was a tiny black pup who I kept my distance from for a few days. But pretty soon his puppy eyes, sideways glances, and the way he’d lie on my legs while I watched TV warmed my heart. He was my gym buddy and got me jogging in the park. He was my shopping partner and waited patiently outside the store for a lick of ice cream. He was my bodyguard who growled at every dog down the hall. He’d lick up crumbs I dropped on the kitchen floor, cry whenever I left the house, and run around like he’d won the lottery when I came home.

People, I’m telling you: We bonded like glue.

Yes, when Toby finally had to leave I was heartbroken. I stood in the middle of the rain-slicked road watching his paws pressed against the back window of the van slowly disappearing into the distance. As I gazed back up at the apartment building everything felt hollow and empty inside.

Life savagely swirled me and Toby in different directions and I’m sad to say he died a few years later. However, these days every time I see a dog that looks like him my heart does a tiny flip and I remember all the good times we shared. Yes, I run up to that confused Placebo Dog on the street and scratch him behind the ears as my mind photoflashes to Toby sniffing tree trunks, chasing balls at the park, and running with a wagging tongue straight into my heart …

If you’re with me here then you know that seeing a dog that looks like a dog you know reminds you of childhood pets, neighbor’s yappy mutts, or your Grandpa’s best friend growing up. You wonder if they’re long lost descendants of your old friends and you smile at the four-legged memories bubbling up from long ago, popping out of nowhere just to say hello.

AWESOME!

Thank you sincerely for putting The Book of Awesome on bestseller lists for 10 straight weeks.

Photos from: here, here, here, and here

AWESOME!

Photos from: Nat and Ago Mazzarelli