Fuck Up Hard.

You are not going to believe me, but there is a simple solution to every problem


With the rarest of exceptions, there are usually two clear cut options (if not more) one is faced with when making an important decision. It’s people – not “situations” that make things complicated. I should know, I’m one of those people. Sometimes, the difficulty doesn’t actually lie in making the decision either, it’s sticking to it. Picking Option A or Option B is simple enough. However, choosing Option A then teetering back and forth into Option B and C and D territory is where things get convoluted. This is exceptional when it comes to matters of the heart. 

Say your boyfriend cheats on you, but is more than apologetic, wants to work things out, and says he will never do it again. You now have the choice of staying or leaving. It doesn’t matter if there is a right or wrong answer. What matters is owning your decision. Stress, anxiety, grief, sadness, etc. doesn’t occur when you forgive someone who has hurt you. It manifests in your inability to truly live in the moment and make peace with yourself.

So if you’re going to fuck up, FUCK UP HARD. Fuck up so bad that you gotta fuck down. If you’re going to reconcile with someone that lied to you, treat them as if you’ve never felt pain before. If you’re going to stay with someone that hurt you, love them whole-heartedly. Forget until you are able to forgive. Forgive until you are able to forget. Do not look through their phone. Do not pick fights with them. Do not regret. Do not look back. Do not question them, and most of all do not question yourself. 

Go hard or go home. You shouldn’t half ass anything you are passionate about. Especially love

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TBT in Pictures – Fall Classic Edition

During our 2010 postseason run, I drank. A lot. The closer we got to the ‘ship, the more I drank. Me and my co-worker Dre who is a fellow Giants fanatic, would come into work in the mornings with matching dehydrated, haggard faces. And we would complain about how tiring the season was, and how the team needed to hurry up and win so that we could get some sleep and give our livers a rest. Despite the torture, we both did it again and again until we came in the morning after the last game (probably) still drunk. We were relieved to not only have won the World Series, but to be getting a full nights rest SOBER. 

This lasted no more than five days before we got postseason withdrawals, and didn’t know what to do with ourselves. The very same things we complained about, we missed. This years road to the ‘ship was no different. It’s like those last few months leading up to your high school graduation. Prom, senior cut day, senior banquet, and graduation etc. create an anticipation unlike no other, and when it’s all over you experience a feeling of not having anything left to look forward to. 

Thank God for 2016 ;)

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The Non-Date. TBT Post 09.17.12

They left shortly after breakfast, and arrived a little after lunch. They checked in, and were pleasantly surprised. Clean sheets, cable, and the best shower head (no pun intended). They hiked for two hours, with at least 20 minutes uphill. Identifying poop, and random animal noises along the way (zebra, and velociraptor just to name a few). The sun was hot, and so were they. They took in the view up top, then hiked back down thinking of cold beer in their near future.

It could’ve been the perfect date.

The brewery was unsuspecting, but quaint by all accounts. Reminiscent of the bar from Waterboy, with an outdoor/indoor bar and what seemed to be ancient hick artifacts all around. The weather was perfect, and the game was on. They drank, and ate. And drank some more. People watching in between innings, and shit-talking all the time. A double double-date with Jamie and Jack, a winning game, and it was a wrap.

It could’ve been the perfect date.

Back by the room a fire was blazing. One, two, three four. Four couples in their 60s and maybe even 70s surrounded the fire pit roasting marshmallows, and drinking wine. Tipsy from four beers and two shots, they tip-toed over. He made her s’mores, while she talked to the woman next to her. Smacking the sweetness off their lips, and pretending to fit in. After two each, it was time to go to bed.

It could’ve been the perfect date.

Wine and Raw. And Tumblr and Instagram. Plantain chips and fruit belts. And shared pjs. He was handsome. She was beautiful. They were cute. She had dreams, he had goals. He was an asshole, and she was snarky. He was single. She was single. They were single together.  It could’ve been the perfect date.

If only they actually liked each other.

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There’s Something About Mare.

The most special of birthday wishes to my dearest Gail. Missing you now more than ever. Party it up boo, I heard there’s no such thing as a hangover in heaven.

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The Living Dead.

Sometimes I talk to the dead.

I lay in her bed, and get my shoes dirty from playing with her sheets. I bring her trinkets, hoping they will amount to more than forgotten trash weathered by the morning mist. I water her flowers just in case she can actually smell them. You know, just in case.

When I’m feeling optimistic, I hear her in the wind that sends the pinwheels spinning. I see her smiling in the sun that brings color to my face. And I feel her in the rain that tickles my eyelashes. 

I tell her my secrets. I tell her my fears. I tell her about the sadness in my soul.
I tell her I miss her, and wonder how things would be different if she were still here. I ask her how she is, what she’s been doing, and if she’s seen Paul Walker yet. We reminisce about the good times we’ve had, and the good times we should’ve had. I ask her for strength, and remind her to visit her husband. I thank her for being such a good friend and say, “See you later!” when I go.  

I wonder why I talk to the dead. When no one responds, and I feel so alone. When it makes me cry, and I leave more sad than when I arrived. Then I realized.

I talk to the dead, because it keeps her alive.  

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boys only want love if it’s torture.

Make fun of me all you want, but I like this song. The lyrics are good too lol.

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Changing Faces.

I love me some emojis. I truly believe they are the second best thing to happen to cell phones since the Nokia snake game. I don’t even remember what texting was like prior to their emergence. However, some emojis are still up for interpretation. I read numerous articles on what certain emojis represent, and disagreed with a lot of them. Thus, I decided to write my own guide to some of my most used emojis. 

  • 0875The “Really bruh?” emoji. This is definitely one of my most used emojis, and probably my favorite of them. It reflects the face of someone who is not the least bit amused, and gives negative fucks. Often times I’ll make this face in real life, although my eyes are too big to ever get that slitty. When there are no words, this usually says it all. When someone is being a smart ass or throwing you a backhanded compliment, they get this face.


  • The “I have nothing to say about that (but really, I have tons to say, it’s just none of my business)” emoji. This is the face you make when you see something you shouldn’t be seeing, or know so many secrets that they’re starting to spill out your ears. It reflects a log jam of emotions masked by a blank face. Imagine going to the club with your girl, and seeing a homie making out with a random ratchet. Then, the next day his girlfriend posts a picture of them at brunch with the caption “Happy anniversary babe!” This is the emoji you send to your girl along with a screenshot of that picture.
  • The “I can’t even/Nooooo, she wasn’t ready” emoji. o-WEARY-570Another favorite of mine, this emoji is one of the most versatile of the bunch. It describes a plethora of emotions from feeling distraught, to being embarrassed, to witnessing immense failure. You use this emoji when you see a size 12 wearing a size 4. When you wake up the next morning after your best friends bachelorette party naked, handcuffed to the furnace next to a goat. When you see someone run full speed into a glass wall. The :40 second mark of this video.
  • sad-emojiThe “Ashamed/Guilty as charged” emoji. Show me a woman with a smart phone, and I’ll show you a woman who’s used this emoji before. Probably the most straight forward of the emoticons, this is the face you send when someone asks if you’ve been following your juice cleanse and you just ate a burrito. But more than likely, it will be the emoji you use when you’re missing from Sunday brunch and you wake up to 6 text messages asking where you are. 
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