Category: Motivation

Potty Mouth Ambirge Strikes Again: Reporting Live From Costa Rica, Hot Poker In Hand.

So this past week, I took a motherfucking vacation. And do you know what? I’m going to take vacations all the time! It’s been decided! Vacations are just way too great to not take! Why aren’t people vacationing all the time? I hereby declare every last week of the month vacation week. Not only do you get to drink (obnoxious amounts of ) fruity umbrella drinks without an ounce of guilt, you also get to do cool things like burn

How to Lose Your Dignity in 10 Minutes Flat.

I don’t know if you’ve ever been to Costa Rica, but contrary to what you may think, one of the greatest things here is not the beach. Oh no. Definitely not. Nor is it the men. Or the fishing. Or the pineapple that I bragged about eating the other day. In reality, quite possibly the greatest thing about Costa Rica is–—bongo roll—-the shot. Contrary to what I know you assholes are thinking, I don’t mean “the shot” as in a

Why Moderation is for Losers.

Growing up, my dad’s favorite line used to be, “Everything in moderation.” What a riot. One would assume that, after having those particular words-o-wisdom jack-hammered into my brain at least once per week, that I would have turned out, well, moderate. I’d think moderately, I’d travel moderately, I’d love moderately, and I’d live moderately. And I definitely would have drank less tequila at the football house that one night in college. Ahem.– I’m not entirely sure at what point the

Blow Off Work Today. That’s An Order.

I’ve been thinking about joy lately. I don’t particularly care for the word; every word has its own personality, and the word joy seems to conjure up an image of an old lady with dentures and pearls. The word just feels outdated. Mothballesque, if you will. Nevertheless, the concept remains. It’s stuck in my mind ever since a One Night Stand client was telling me about her business, and commented that the reason that people (her clients) gain weight isn’t

The Gap Between Intention + Success. Your Mission: Ride ‘Er Buck Wild

Relax. I’m not going to start this post with, “Happy Thanksgiving–turkeys and corn and pilgrims blah blah blah.” That would be far too predictable. I’m also not going to talk about giving thanks, either, because you and I both know you’re reading about that on every blog ever made today, and I certainly don’t want to be the one responsible for you blowing your brains out during a family holiday. Or ever, really. <insert the voice of the most annoying

It’s Okay If You Suck At This. Otherwise Called, “Permission to Suck.” Otherwise Called, “Longest Blog Post Title Ever Because Obnoxiously Long Blog Post Titles Are Funny.”

It’s okay if…you’re drowning in self-doubt. It’s okay if…you don’t know where to start. It’s okay if…you started, but want to stop. It’s okay if…you sometimes mix up your priorities. It’s okay if…you didn’t say the right thing. It’s okay if…you really fucked up the first time around. It’s okay if…you fucked up the second time around, too. It’s okay if…you’re overwhelmed. It’s okay if…you get down on yourself. It’s okay if…you’re worried everyone knows more than you. It’s okay

When You Feel Like You Could Collapse + A Personal Favor

It’s the weekend. And being the weekend, I have an unconventional post for you. We’re entrepreneurs, right? And we’re all fighting hard to make our dreams come true, right? (Shut up, even though it sounds corny, it’s true and you damn well know it.) And sometimes it gets really fucking hard, right? Nevermind. I’ll get straight to the point. I have a friend in Chile. Someone I respect tons. Someone that I want to see succeed. He’s a Latin R&B

Blow Dryers, Mobile Homes + When to Shut Your Fucking Macbook, Already

I was pissed. It was 1998. I was 14. I had just put the finishing touches on my 90’s style bangs, sculpting and spraying them into the perfect 360 degree fan – you remember the kind where the top half curls backward, and the bottom half forward, right? (If you say no, that means you’re younger than me. First of all, fuck you, and second of all, stop driving behind me while looking at your crotch while texting the guy

This One Time, I Fell In Love With an Illegal Immigrant. Yes, That Actually Happened.

By the end of the night, it was as if I had just had the best sex of my life, without so much as having shared a kiss. I knew nothing about him, except that I needed more. And more I got. Candlelit dinners, walks through parks, sensual kisses on street corners, and giggly phone calls lasting well into the night came, and came some more. I was falling for him, and hard. And I kept falling for him, even

Trust, Humanity & A Dutch Pilot. Otherwise Known As The Important Things In Life.

Sometimes, you want to do it all yourself. Sometimes, you don’t want anyone’s help. And sometimes, you (bullheadedly) insist on being the hero in your own fairy tale. Sometimes, that person is me. Other times, that person is you. But if there’s anything I’ve learned when it comes to love, life, happiness & business, it’s that there comes a time when it’s okay for us both to drop the act. In fact, it’s not just okay, but it’s a must.