Dr. Phil says that there are 7 decisions which we make during our lives that determine whether we will be wintering in Aruba or spending it in Hartford, Connecticut collecting returnable bottles in a discarded shopping cart. I made the decision not to navigate his site looking for an explanation of the ‘Big 7,’ but I wondered how it could be narrowed down to just seven. I mean, it couldn’t be the same for everyone; not all of us will have to decide whether to stay home and use the Ouija Board with crazy Mary or go to Ford’s Theatre. And, if you are aware of what the ‘Big 7’ are and you know that you just went all-in on number 7, does that mean that all future decisions you make will not have life altering effects? That could be cool.
But anyhoo, I’m quite sure that one of Dr. Phil’s ‘Big 7’ is not going into a Dunkin’ Donuts and ordering a dozen donuts. You wouldn’t feel this way, however, if you took note of how some people handle this process.
In most Dunkin’ Donuts store I’ve gone into, there are (yes, I’ve counted – field study) approximately 15-17 different donut types on display (without the fruit flies that appear to prefer “la boulange” at Starbucks.).
Now, just for review in the chance that you are on the negative side of the education gap, in most cases there are 12 donuts in a dozen.
So you are choosing 12 out of a possible 15-17 options.
Despite the limited options people enter this process like it demands some sort of critical intelligence. They put more thought in which 12 donuts will make it into the box than they do in choosing a candidate for President. They give their order with more pauses and “aahs” than a Ted Kennedy speech.
“Oh my God, what if I do not like some of the options, which ones do I double up on?” Aaahhhhhhh!!!! They look around feverishly for a Democrat to tell them what the best choice for them to make is.
This is not Powerball; you do not win a prize if you pick the correct combination of donuts.
This could be a game show: “Would you like the prize behind the Bavarian Kreme or what lies behind the Double Chocolate Cake donut? You have 10 seconds!”
Just tell the light-on-the-English clerk to throw 12 of the damn things in a box and drag your fat ass back to your mini-van! Unless you are in your mini-van and you are making this order through the drive-through window, in which case the customer behind you ought to be allowed to destroy you and your vehicle with a rocket propelled grenade.
And remember, there is probably a customer behind you that would just like to get a coffee and get out of there…and it’s probably me!
Facebook Needs a ‘Thumbs Down’ Icon
Society has been Oprah-nized.
The new social paradigm states that we must be accepting of all and to all we must have faith that if they are number than a pounded thumb, God and a great big hug will heal them.
I say give ‘em a kick in the ass and tell ‘em to smarten the hell up.
We have to be more sensitive to the hyper-sensitive; it is our responsibility to help the irresponsible; we must be positive toward the negative; and “red is gray and yellow white.”
OH, HOW I LOVE YOU!!!
Give me a freakin’ break, already.
Every back-asswards behavior is analyzed as an addiction, given a cute little acronym, or excused due to some historical trauma.
Back in the day the only label that was relevant was Black Label.
Squeezing into this global group hug is Facebook.
Right away you are told to “accept” some digital stranger to be a “friend.” Your husband or wife is waiting in the bedroom for you and you’re online trading cute little kitty photos with someone who may be a member of Al-Qaeda.
I apologize to all my Al-Qaeda “friends;” I suppose they’re capable of having an affinity for the furry little bastards.
So you are in this little Facebook community and you got the News Feed thing cranked up and all these “friends” are “sharing” some pretty lame shit.
I mean, is it necessary to let your group of “friends” know that you have to take a break because your one year-old just burped up his strained peas? “Oh, how cute! “
Cute my ass (this is what the kid is thinking, not me).
Now, if the little shit jumps up, grabs the Gibson and rips off some Kashmir, post that sucker!
The point is that we are, as civilized members of the Facebook community, socialized to accept all “shared” communiqué from what is in some cases a list of thousands of “friends.”
Facebook protocol does not allow you to designate the posting of “friend” as being a total piece of crap. But you can push the hell out of that ‘thumbs up’ icon all day long.
Yes, you could just fill in the comment section of the egregious post with a…few choice words, however, the social engineering behind Facebook tells us that it is not nice to diss your “friends.”
In the days of our youth, when our flesh and blood “friends” said or did something only a mother could smile at, it was quite normal to call them a dumb fuck.
Not now. Now we just give that little fake Nancy Pelosi smile and let it stand.
It was once considered helpful, and necessary, to let your “friends” know that what they are doing could be the manifestation of incurable liberalism – no, I’m kidding, that just came so natural I had to leave it in – seriously, tough love and constructive criticism was once seen as a positive, nurturing, blessed thing to show toward a “friend.”
So if you tell me that this sucked, it’s ok, I’ll grow.
Oh Lord.
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