I’ve often talked about the “three-legged stool” on this blog. No, you don’t have to leave. This post won’t qualify for a certain tag that shall remain nameless. I’m going to keep this post on a higher, more sophisticated plane.
So often, in fact, that I should probably elevate the topic to the level of a category so you can ignore all the posts equally at the same time. But that would be convenient therefore I won’t do it.
The future is something which “occupies” my thoughts from time to time. (Yes, my brain has little protesters in it.)
To refresh your memory, the “three-legged stool” is a metaphor rolled out around the time that piece of sassafras Ida May Fuller clutched her first Social Security benefits check in her kung fu death grip. I remember it well because I was there. On the floor. Licking her ankles. Whispering hotly, “Be my sugar momma? Mommy? M to the O to the M M Y.”
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Posted in: editorial
| Tagged: 401k
The bluebird of happiness spends some time in the Abyss. She’s also our primary source of guano. (See: multitasking.) Image Source: martineno (Flickr)
The news came unbidden. I never asked. When the roulette wheel of life lands on “win” never trust it. I remember well, just like I was saying the other day, how negativity saved my life.
And you can, too.
So yeah, a not-so subtle Jedi mind trick recently came a huntin’ for my ass. And if I wasn’t careful, it was gonna be my bloody arm neatly severed and quivering on the cantina floor. And, just my luck, a revisionist George Lucas was nowhere in sight, so I couldn’t count on the scene being rewritten to make me the bad guy turned good. Or something like that.
Tom’s Law #42
Good news can be deadly.
Fortunately my negativity skills kicked in and saved my life.
Spoiler alert: Things all work out as they should in the end. My end.
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Posted in: fail
| Tagged: bloodsuckers