Category: Motivation

The One Thing That Can (And Will) Mess Up Your Life…If You Let It

There’s no such thing as luck, and if you’re banking your life on getting lucky, you might as well plan for the worst. In terms of lifestyle design, the word “design” implies “deliberate intention.” So if you want control over yours, it’s time to get up, get out there, and BE DELIBERATE AND INTENTIONAL.

“The Money’s Too Good to Give Up” and Other Nonsense I am GOING TO SPANK WITH A JELLYFISH

I am in NO MOOD today. Nope, no mood for pussyfooting around—and don’t be offended by my usage of that word, as its etymology is related to little kitty cat paws, which are adorable and sweet, just ? like ? me. [Cue sinister laughter] There’s one thing I have had it with, and I’m about to get out a giant alpine horn and shout it all over France. It’s not COVID-19 (though that over-seasoned crotch nugget* can hump right off),

I Tattooed My Eyelids! Or: On Just Showing the Friggy Frig Up

It feels like a teeny, tiny vibrator on your eyelid. And THAT, friends, is my description of what, precisely, it feels like to get your eyelids tattooed. Your eyelids! Ya fucking EYELIDS! [Said exactly like an Italian American woman in disbelief.] Because, surely, someone who has never gotten a tattoo in her life should start with her eyelids. ~Whistles and looks up at ceiling~ I KNOW. Why do I make these decisions? But to be honest, I didn’t even think

Oh, Get a F*cking Grip, Already

“QUIT WAITING ON being told stuff is OK. What are you, six? That said, you had more balls when you were six, didn’t you?” This is the way my smart AF British friend, Matthew Kimberley, opens a chapter in his newly released book, out just YESTERDAY: Get a F*cking Grip. (As an aside, I hate sentences like that one I just wrote. Everybody’s everybody’s “friend” on the internet, which usually just means “they tweeted me once and now I’m an

How to Get Back to Feeling Like Your Old Self Again

I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this, but turns out, renting a room above an Irish pub that’s rather “could be great, could be a fungal groin infection” is an excellent idea. I do not say this because of the corner table you’ll get next to the fireplace downstairs, where you will proceed to order a traditional cottage pie (code for “scalding hot gallon of cheesy mashed potatoes”), watch a senior citizen play the piccolo with more gusto