You Must Present
I like this image. No disrespect to Pankaj Ghemawat or the Eight Percent is intended.
These days, if you decide to come after Twitter, you had best bring your A-game. You gotta have cred. Because, when the shit hits the fan, you have a grand total of .42 seconds to capture the attention of that potential follower or lose ’em forever.
You get one chance. One!!
Strike while the iron is hot. Seize the day. Squeeze lemonade out of their lemons. Losers always whine about their best. Winners go home and fuck the prom queen.
That’s where I come in. My latest business idea will give you insta-playa status. Make the jump for our special presentation or choose the path that leads to dying alone.
Drowned By Dribblings
By one definition, perhaps the only one that matters, there are two kinds of people in this world: Those who finish their beverages down to the last drop and those who always leave some behind.
I’m the former. “Never leave a beverage behind,” I’m pretty damn famous for saying.
Some, however, fall for that old wives’ tale that beverage enjoyment abates the deeper you get. Hogwash!
That first icy cold blast of Pepsi or Coke or beer is sublime goodness, right? On the other hand, that pathetic last half inch leftover at the bottom isn’t worth the backwashed-spit that now comprises 42% of its volume.
I guess the big question is this: Are all of those partially-filled glasses left lying around the house “half empty” or “half full?” The correct answer, of course, is: “Who gives a shit? Clean that crap up!”
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Shouts from the Abyss 
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