Ah, how time flies.
I remember a time when my Friday mornings were spent excitedly preparing for my last work day of the week. A time when the excitement was bubbling inside of me, for a weekend was coming. A Friday that didn’t involve the weekly posting of “Words For Your Enjoyment!” But now, with so many WFYE’s behind us, there is a true sense of accomplishment that pales in comparison to beer bongs and late night tuna melts.
Alas! We all must rejoice!
And how could you not rejoice when yet another WFYE topic comes from super-brainstormer and WFME pal Amy, who wonders aloud (while typing in that neat Contact box on this site), just what’s the deal with “people who take the last piece of everything.”
I pulled up to a stoplight yesterday.
By itself, pulling up to a stoplight isn’t amazing or groundbreaking or stunning by any stretch of the imagination. Obeying the laws of the road just happens to be something I do because I like to fall-in-line like our local government and Highway Patrol expects me to.
But there was one thing I wasn’t expecting when I turned to look to my right, while sitting in my car, at said previously aforementioned “pulling up to the stoplight” location…
I was given the auto-nod.
Find me someone who is willing to use mayo from someone else’s house other than their own and I’ll show you someone who likes to live on the edge.
For whenever I visit a friend’s home for lunch and I’m given the choice of tuna salad or turkey, egg salad or roast beef, ambrosia salad or an apple, potato salad or french fries, cole slaw or a side salad… I will always choose the non-mayo item.
This is primarily because…I am afraid of mayonnaise that isn’t mine.
Gimmick a needs everyone.
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Anyone who turns a fear-based, survival instinct into a professional Olympic event needs their head examined.
Take running for example. Something whose origins come from attempting to escape a potentially harmful or scary “thing” (thing being a dinosaur, person with a sharp rock or firearm, or a natural disaster). Sure, running has been around since the dawn of time, but since when does that need to be turned into a sport?
Commence why running sucks…now.