Haven't posted a blogpost in awhile but this seems like as good a time as any. I'd like to share with my friends that I am suffering from a horrible condition. It's called PBD or "Post-Brady Disorder." As I understand it, the condition is caused by the loss of Tom Brady as the Quarterback of the New England Patriots. Symptoms include extreme sadness, anxiety, difficulty breathing, and bouts of hissy-fits. Additional symptoms include worrying he'll end up on a stupid team like Tennessee or Tampa Bay and whether I can really get behind an Andy Dalton as my team's starting quarterback. Unfortunately the condition has no cure. No amount of Our Fathers or Hail Mary's will bring Tom Brady back. Therefore I have accepted I must go through the 5-stages of grief. I went through Denial in my car this morning as I read the news prior to getting out. I then became irrationally Angry honking my horn and screaming as the man in the car parked next
The last 30 days have been a little difficult for my circle of friends. As life goes on unpredictable as always, my circle of friends have seemingly lost more friends, coworkers, and family members than I remember in recent memory and it has me thinking. A friend of mine posted a recent article by renowned physicist Stephen Hawking balking at the idea of a hereafter as a fairy tale for those afraid of the dark. Please know this blog is not about telling you what to believe. As I read the comments folks left about the article, it dawned on me that regardless of what each of us thinks, one thing is certain; every one of is going to find out the answer to the question of whether a hereafter exists or not.; every single one of us. If nothing exists, well then we won't have a whole lot of pondering to do on the idea since we won't be in a hereafter to ponder or do anything else. But if it does, there might be some "explaining" to do. I don't know what will happen wh
Well about 24 hours ago, in a moment of holistic goodness (I might have been eating granola at the time), I decided I was going to deactivate my Facebook account. Not permanently, but for some unspecified time which I called "the summer". I didn't lock myself down to actual dates just in case this would be harder than I expected but I mean come on, it’s just a stupid website. There are a million other websites and social environments online. I wouldn't even notice it was gone. Fast forward till 7pm last night. There I am, staring at a blank Google search engine page, feeling a little sick to my stomach and confused as to what to do. Hours earlier I had said my goodbyes to my close friends on Facebook who saw me off with words of encouragement reminiscent of eulogies as I disappeared into the internet sunset like a cowboy disappears into the western plain. Now, I was a free man. Mark Zuckerburg could no longer control me. I was free to roam the internet as I pleased.
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