Live Life to the Fullest…but like, for real.

Who doesn’t love a good cliche? Live life to the fullest. We hear it plenty. I usually think something along the lines of “yea yea yea, ok I get it.” Well, a few weeks ago I took a trip down to Ft. Lauderdale to visit my 2 grandmothers. It was shocking, depressing, wonderful, and a pretty big eye opener.

One Grandmother, Grandma Cynnie (Cynthia) is 87, all there mentally, but has steadily deteriorated physically since I last saw her. She walks with a cane, and one of her medications gives her difficulty breathing. Upon seeing me (mind you, for the first time in a while), she hysterically cried, which in turn caused me to cry hysterically get lots of dust in my eye. It’s upsetting to see someone completely “with it” mentally, but trapped and confined by their body slowly breaking down on them.

*Editors note: Cynnie hadn’t seen me since I lost about 35lbs of weight and about 10% body fat. She told me I had a “girlish figure” which she claimed was meant to be a compliment. Thanks Grandma!

My other Grandmother, Grandma Blanche, is 94, and has more of a social life than I do. She has a boyfriend, she sings in a choral group, she performs in a theatre group, she plays cards…SHE IS 94. However, she hears virtually nothing, and her memory is really bad. She will say the same thing, or tell the same story 3x in a 5 minute span.

I’m lucky to have 2 grandparents in my life still.

Both Cynnie and Blanche were married to the loves of their lives for 40+ years until they both passed away. We’re all gonna die. But, right now, at 28, it seems like “I know, I’ll deal with that BS later in life.” Then I started thinking, “shit, my parents are getting old.” That is really going to suck. So, I immediately called my parents and had a mushy conversation about how great they are and I just want to give them hugs and buy them #1 Mom/Dad shirts. Not really, but seeing “old people” and thinking about the fact that life really is pretty short, is a great motivator for doin’ some cool stuff while you’re here.

Go hug someone you love. Or a stranger, whatever.

Girl, I wanna text you up

Here’s a little mood music to listen to while reading this post. The sweet sensual sounds of Color Me Badd. It’s also the inspiration for the title.

Allow me to introduce you to the most terrifying symbol of our generation.

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Whether you’re texting someone you are interested in, someone you are friends with, a co-worker, a boss, a family member, anyone… the above image holds so much weight and meaning it’s absurd. If you don’t have an iPhone…welp, you’ve got bigger problems.

Technology and social media have made communication easier, but way more exhausting. See, even Drew Barrymore agrees.

If you are texting with someone you are interested in, it can be nerve-racking enough without the 3 dots. You used to send something and wait with anxiety for a response. Now, you not only wait for a response, but you have the ability to see if they are typing? “Holy shit, they’re actually responding. Why are they taking so long? Why am I watching 3 dots on my screen? Maybe my phone’s broken. I’ll have my other friend text me to make sure texts are coming through. Shit, my phones not broken. Holy shit the dots disappeared. It’s over they hate me. [2 minutes pass] Oh, they texted me! Whatever, I knew they would. Shutup.”

My old boss and I used to text. I once texted him asking if I could leave early for something (Probably a “doctors appointment” *cough cough* *air quotes*). The 3 dots kept appearing, disappearing, then reappearing. I just assumed I was being fired. As I was packing up my desk I finally got a text that said, “that’s fine.” It took you that long for a “that’s fine”?!? Such a poet.

Communication miscommunication seems to happen a lot. It makes everyone turn into a little stalker unintentionally. I don’t want to know when someone is typing, or when they’ve read my message. Just kidding, I totally do. But only because Apple and all these other companies have presented us with these technological advances. You think you’re real smart Genius Bar, don’t ya?

Phone calls, texts, gchat (the lifeblood of corporate America), email, Facebook messages, Facebook chat, Instagram likes/comments, Tweets, LinkedIn messaged and more. It’s exhausting. It’s awesome, but pretty ridiculous if you think about it. How did society function before all of these communication mediums? Beats me.

Do the 3 dots scare you? Tweet me @dannyweiner or leave a comment!

Timing is Errrrrrrrrthang

If there is one central thesis or thought I have learned the last 18-months or so it is this. Whether we’re talking about life, love, work, sports, whatever… TIMING IS EVERYTHING.

I came across this article by Mark Manson about a year ago and although saying it changed my life might be a stretch…it’s pretty close. Certainly changed my perspective on stuff. It helps solve the grey areas of life, love, work, etc.


Now, while I agree with about 99% of Mark’s article, we’re all human, grey exists. Whether you choose to remove yourself from the grey area is up to you..but, regardless, it exists. What I’ve come to find is that the grey area exists in large part due to timing.

love-sucks-lets-cuddle-tank-top-pinkIn regards to love: Dating is tough. The idea of combining your life with someone else and making it work seems virtually impossible sometimes. Think about the timing it takes for that to work. First off, you both have to be in a position to date. Everyone comes with baggage, you never know what they are holding onto, or what they have been through in their life. You meet someone, you are ready to date them, but they want to keep it casual. Welp, peace out. Also, think of the sheer fact, in terms of timing, of you meeting your “soulmate.” It’s ridiculous. Met your husband/wife at the grocery store? What if you chose to go to Whole Foods instead of Publix that day? What if you looked for a better parking spot for an extra 5 minutes. What if an ex bf/gf comes back into the picture? You can’t really compete with history…

Thankfully, with social media, you can completely stalk your potential mate to get some sort of idea of what you’re getting into. Thanks Zuckerberg!

In regards to life: Life is pretty tough. Like, really tough sometimes. Timing rears its ugly head in things like where you want to live, is now a good time to move, is now a good time to make a big purchase, like a house, or a car. I’m not Dr. Phil, but 99.9% of the time it’s not going to be the perfect time for big life stuff.

In regards to work: Ugh. Work is REALLLLLLLY tough. A lot of people think I live the life because I work from home and essentially have no boss. Yea, that part is cool. The whole financial aspect is terrifying. At my old job, that I was miserable at, regardless of the amount of work I performed, I was guaranteed my salary. Nowadays, my salary fluctuates every single month. I gain clients, I lose


clients, I have really good months, and I have awful months where I debate panhandling outside my apt. Was it the perfect time to quit my full time job when I did? In the words of Mark Manson, EFF NO! Was it maybe, kinda sorta, a good time to quit. EFF YES!

If you can absorb the F Yes, F No mindset, and take into account that timing is a real bitch, then you’ll probably feel a lot better about stuff. You might even say something along the lines of “oh, man, that situation was my fault at all, and had nothing to do with me…timing just really sucked.” You could also very well say something along the lines of “this guy is an idiot, who does he think he is” also. That’s fine too.

Did you like this post? Did you think it was hands down the most insanely poorly written piece of garbage you have ever seen? Let us know in the comments or on Twitter!

Stuff You Mighta Missed

There’s lots of stuff floatin’ around the Internet these days. Plenty of it sucks. But, every now and then some awesomeness appears. Here’s a few Internet morsels of goodness you might have missed.

1) This is straight out of an SVU or Dateline episode. Two 12-year old girls are terrorized via social media by a classmate, or so they think. Computer hacking, angry parents, Instagram subpoenas, and some good ol’ fashioned death threats. WARNING: This is long. Once you start you’re going to want to finish it and you will probably be pissed off at the end. Enjoy!

2) This is a goosebump inducing video from the geniuses over at Air Jordan. Whether you hate sports, hate the Yankees, or are just a hater in general, you gotta respect Derek Jeter. Him and Tim Duncan are probably the last of a dying breed in the world of big business sports. I emailed this to my die hard Yankee fan parents.

Response: “Gave me the chills. Mom cried.”


3) This one is near and dear to my heart, unfortunately. A few months ago, I switched from Comcast to ATT for cable/internet. Why? Lots of reasons, but I don’t feel like getting emotional so I’ll save the bulk of that for another day. When I finally cancelled my service, my room mate at the time returned the equipment, we paid our final bill and said hello to U-Verse. Being my stereotypical Jewish mother’s son, I checked my Comcast account about a month later just to make sure no funny biznass was going on. To my surprise, my account was active, with a big fat bill of over $200. I called Comcast thinking this would be easy to fix. A teeny misunderstanding, no biggie. The convo went something like this.

Me: Explanation of what’s going on.

Comcast: Yes, your account is still active. We see on the account that ALL equipment was returned on {DATE}. But you never called to say you wanted to actually cancel service.

Me: How can I have any service if I don’t have any of your equipment which you can see was returned on {DATE}.

Comcast: *This was my favorite line* How are we supposed to know you want to cancel service.


***LONG story short. After me refusing to pay and 3 people or so claiming there was absolutely nothing they could do,  I was transferred to someone at corporate who took the charge off in about 30 seconds and apologized for the inconvenience.

This man make a simple phone call, attempting to cancel his Comcast account. He deserves some sort of medal of valor for keeping his cool. My blood boils for him. Enjoy.

4) This is the most O.G. baby alive.

So, now you have 4 email-forwarding worthy pieces of Internet gold to annoy friends/co-workers with so they think you are “cool” and well versed in pop culture. You’re welcome.

5 Instagram Accounts You Should Be Following…


Instagram is tied with Twitter as my favorite social network these days because no one hits me up on MySpace and Facebook is like so totally 2000-and-late. Eh Fergie? I only use Facebook to remember birthdays and to find girls my friends meet at bars, and only get small amounts of information from. “Victoria Dancing Queen” was my most recent achievement. Victoria, if you’re reading this, you’re welcome.

1. Bacon The Piglet

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I never really thought pigs could be so cute. This account is amazing for a few reasons. The captions include a lot of clever pig puns. If you don’t like an obvious joke or a good pun why don’t you just move to Canada! The owner of Bacon just so happens to be smokin’ hot and makes a cameo every now and then.The pig cuddles and acts like a dog, eats like a maniac, and grinds his butt on the floor with apply placed music in the background. This account can do no wrong.

2) Carter and Toby

This one’s easy. Dogs are cute. Babies are cute (as long as they are not mine). A rescue dog and a baby who are best friends and take funny pics together? Count me in.

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3) Dan Bilzerian

Where do we begin with this one. Millionaire poker playing playboy who, according to Instagram, is either having sex, shooting guns, driving some sort of tank, or yachting, at any given point in time. He writes funny captions and has a cat named SmushBall.

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4) Foodie Magician

Screen Shot 2014-08-05 at 10.01.26My friends over at Cedar Lakes Estate, Lisa + Steph, told me about this dude. He chronicles his NYC meals daily. Apparently he does some really freaky deaky magic as well. I’m more of a Harry Potter type guy but do you foodie magician.

According to my friends, and mind you, this could be a giant conspiracy….the foodie magician told my friend Lisa to scroll through her phone and pick out a random name. She showed the person sitting next to her.

The foodie magician went through some serious “deep thinking,” I assume to summon the powers of the universe, then pulls out an envelope that is stapled shut. You see where this is going yet? Yup, the random name was written on a piece of paper inside the stapled shut envelope. SHAZAM!

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5. Jen Selter

I’m an advocate for fitness and healthy living. That’s why you should follow this account. JK, lolz, lmfao, rotfl….this chick makes a living maintaining her robust tush, and I salute her for it. Her hiney looks photoshopped and as far as I can tell, she is either squatting or lunging 24/7. My quads hurt just looking at her pictures. Why will no one pay me to take pics of my butt? #Jealousy

Killer sunset...

Killer sunset…

Hopefully that gave you something to occupy the rest of your workday. Did we miss any must follow accounts? Let us know, or as usual, tell us how much we suck in the comments or on Twitter.

Mom, Dad…Take Me Back!

Ma-the-meatloaf (1)Mom, Dad…I took you for granted. I took it all for granted. And now, I’m publicly asking you to take me back. I’ll move back in, I’l be the best room mate ever, you won’t even know I’m there. Please, PLEASE take me back.

We’re all stupid. Like, real dumb, myself included. What were we thinking? Moving out sounded so good. We had our freedom in college, we lived with friends, it was great. No way will I ever live with my parents again after college I thought. Then, I lived with them for almost 2 years, which at the time seemed like it was an eternity. UGH, it was TERRIBLE! My mom waited on me hand and foot, she cooked anything I wanted for me, it was like there was a 24/7 in-house laundromat, and everything was free. I repeat…IT WAS AWFUL I barely made it out of that 5-star resort alive.

I’ve gotta get out of here. I can’t take any more perfectly prepared scrambled eggs for breakfast, or cold cut combos for lunch. I can’t take how everything is FREE. I can’t take freshly folded laundry in my room EVERY.SINGLE.DAY. If I have to eat one more chocolate chip cookie, or dine at one more nice restaurant…I’LL DIE.

Then, like Andy Dufresne crawling to freedom in Shawshank Redemption, I moved out.

When I first moved out, I was pumped. I had my freedom back. I didn’t have to tell girls that my “room mates” were, in fact, my parents. I was making my own money and it really does feel good to support yourself. That faded after about 3 weeks.

Let’s get a few universal truths straight.





We shell out thousands of dollars a month on rent, bills, food, expenses, car stuff, insurances, medical crap, and other grown-up shit. It’s outrageous. When you live at home, doctors visits are pretty much non-existent. I’m pretty sure my mother has a cure for everything from the common cold to typhoid fever in her medicine cabinet. I moved out about 4 or 5 years ago. What I’m about to say is alarming. Are you sitting down? I have calculated I would have about $100k more dollars in my bank account had I been living at Chateau Parentals all this time. $100k is pretty much a billion to a single guy with not that many expenses who just so happens to be Jewish (saving money is in our DNA). So, basically, what I’m saying, is I pretty much could have retired by now.

Have something to add? Want to tell us this post sucked? Let us know in the comments or on Twitter!

Bras, What Are They Good For, Absolutely Nothin’

Here at NoPantsToWork we take on hard hitting news stories. Today, we discuss boobs, a.k.a. breasts, bosoms, tits, melons, jugs, sweater puppies, mounds, knockers, etc. While I don’t like wearing pants and find them to be an unnecessary nuisance…girls feel similarly about bras from what I gather. Special thanks to the ladies who offered their opinion on the topic and helped write this.

You wake up in the morning ready to attack the day.

Everything is fine and dandy with your heavenly jugs tucked away nicely. The puppies look great today!

You have a couple meetings and feel like a million bucks.

Then it starts getting a little sweaty in there.

Shit, the left one slipped out.

Then, it’s official…boob sweat.

You hope no one notices…they probably don’t…still, you nervously sweat away.

Not only are you sweating – you realize that your luscious lady lumps are being smushed together.

And suddenly, you’re trapped. You can’t breathe. WHO INVENTED THIS THING ANYWAY? In your head, you’re doing this…

…but in reality, you subtly tug on your bra and battle the world’s worst feeling, BACK FAT. #SEXY

You wiggle to fix it and end up looking like this. [CUE coworker stares]

You think to yourself…

FINALLY at 5 p.m. you make a break for it.

You drive like you’ve never driven before. Complete ninja focus.

You barely make it through your front door before you get straight to business.

You Tazmanian Devil your way outta your work attire. Who knows where everything landed…and who cares.

Because, it’s time. The moment you’ve been waiting 97 hours for. And in one swift motion…

 Complete and utter satisfaction.


According to the females who helped write this, boobs are quite the burden (apparently even for Victoria’s Secret Angels). Well try having something that hangs between your legs all day! JK, you guys give birth…you win. As usual, tell us all about your boob issues, or tell us how bad this post sucked, on Facebook and Twitter!

MegaMillions, MegaAwesome

THE MEGAMILLIONS JACKPOT IS AN ESTIMATED 636 MILLION DOLLARS. Let me me say that again in case it didn’t register. THE MEGAMILLIONS JACKPOT IS AN ESTIMATED 636 MILLION DOLLARS!!!!!!! The cash option is 341 million dollars. That’s 341 with 6 zero’s behind it. 341,000,000…man, that looks sweet.

I’m a casual lottery player/gambler. A little sports betting, poker, some scratch-offs and the occasional lottery ticket. However, when the jackpot gets as high as it is currently, I can’t stop day dreaming about how cool it would be to win, what I would do, how awesome I’d be at being filthy rich, and debating whether I’d actually have a heart attack after realizing I won. The part that really sucks, is, every time the jackpot gets this high, and I don’t win, I get severely depressed for about an hour. I mean, I genuinely expect to win for a split second. Then, extreme disappointment. Do you know what you would do? Here are my thoughts.

My biggest anxiety in the whole winning-the-lottery-daydream-process is when I actually find out that I’ve won–WHAT DO I DO WITH THE TICKET.  I’ve done some research. You’re not supposed to really tell anyone, and you are told to contact a lawyer/financial advisor type figure. I’d love to Tweet and Instagram it eventually…I think that would get a few likes. My anxiety comes from holding a piece of paper that is now worth 341 million smackers. In my day dream, I put the ticket in an envelope, I seal the envelope, I place that envelope in another envelope. I place the newly formed package in my pants. I lock myself in my room, turn off all the lights, get under the covers, call my parents, tell them something terrible has happened and need them to come over immediately, contact the police and tell them I need an escort. Isn’t that what everyone does?

Money changes people and I’m sure many of you have heard insane stories of people winning massive jackpots only to lose all of it, become terrible people, and become bankrupt in the years following. I’m Jewish, so that would be pretty much impossible. I have money management/saving skills in my DNA, folks. Once my advisor told me what the hell to do, I have a number of plans. I wouldn’t want people hitting me up for money all the time sooooo, I’d call my closest friends, tell them to meet me at the airport, bring nothing but your phone and your wallet.

I’d charter a jet to Vegas, take everyone shopping for fresh duds, and spend a weekend living and partying like Floyd Mayweather. I’d pay off any debt my parents had, buy them a dream home where ever they wanted to retire, buy them their dream cars, and a loft in NYC, since that’s always been a dream of theirs. I’d also just cut them a check for a shitload of money because my parents are awesome, hard working, and they deserve it.

After that, I’d buy some real estate, nothing too huge because I need a cozy joint to lay my head down at night. I’d build an indoor basketball court, a ridiculous pool, buy a new car and then I like to think I’d continue working on this website and some new projects. I’d like to donate some moolah to Make-A-Wish because I think what they do is incredible. Then, I’d travel. Ya know, cool places like Italy, Cleveland, and Bali. I’d Eat, Pray, and Love all over the place!

The odds of winning are 1 in 259 million. You have a better chance of getting hit by a tornado than winning tonight. You have a better chance of getting struck by lightning than winning tonight. You have a better chance of getting eaten by a shark than winning tonight. You have a better chance of getting eaten by a shark, while simultaneously getting struck by lightning while being swept up by a tornado, than winning tonight. That last one isn’t confirmed but we are having our math interns run the numbers for us.

I am a firm believe in “money doesn’t buy happiness but it sure does make things a hell of a lot easier.” Yea, I mean, you can still be miserable, buttttt I’m already pretty happy go lucky, so I think I’d be alright with 341 million brajoles in my bank account.

Lets assume you take the cash option of 341 million bones. We’ll forget about taxes for a second for arguments sake (or the fact someone else might win and you have to split).

You could buy this house 17 times. You could buy 428,930 Golden Retriever puppies named “Santa Girl.” You could even buy this website 341 million times!!! You could buy a bajillion of everything on this list as well. Everyone has had this day dream. What would you do? What would you buy? Would you place the ticket in your pants and hide under the covers too? Let us know on Twitter or Facebook!

On a more serious note, if you win the lottery, or don’t–and have a few extra dollars to spare for a non-profit my friends works with, it would be very much appreciated. You can read more about EmancipAction here or watch their video below.

Runway Laps and Thigh Gaps

Saddle up folks, the Victoria’s Secret Fashion show is back in action tomorrow! The music, the pageantry, the breasts, the butts, the Angels…all of it. Let’s all get in the mood with some acoustic Bieber from last year’s show. Enjoy…

As much as we hate to admit it…Bieber kinda killed it. Drop the mic, Justin. Honorable mention to the sketchy dude in the vest playing the guitar at the beginning!

Now, the VS Fashion Show serves many purposes and causes many different reactions/emotions.  It’s informative, entertaining, sexual, depressing, ridiculous, outrageous, mesmerizing, vain, comical and plain ol’ American! Twitter pretty much explodes during the show, even making it educational. What a well rounded event!

For example, I had no idea thigh gaps were so important to women. I mean, if your thighs don’t touch, you don’t have to worry about chafing, and leap frog is probably a little bit easier, but besides that…is it really THAT important? Leading up to the show, every girl undoubtedly makes a joke, Tweets, or tells a friend something along the lines of, “OMG Sally, I am like NOT eating a thing ALL week because these VS Angel betches are all so effing skinny. And their thigh gaps… UGH. Thigh gaps are SO fetch.” Girls have their VS Fashion Show viewing parties, sipping wine, talking about their woman crushes (“OMFG, I’d like totally go lesbo for Adriana Lima, wouldn’t you?” “Totes.”), secretly, or not so secretly, being depressed about their own bodies in comparison to the models and vowing to start a new diet tomorrow.

Don’t worry girls, if a guy is lucky enough to be in the same room with a girl in her underwear, they aren’t worried about the stuff you think they are. We are genuinely so appreciative and excited that a girl has agreed to be alone in the same room with us – half naked – that we aren’t seeing straight anyways. Seriously, it’s like if you’re standing on a frozen lake and the ice starts to crack and everyone yells DON’T MOVE A MUSCLE. Same principle, if there is a half naked girl in the room DON’T…MOVE…A…MUSCLE and maybe she’ll stay like this.

I think we can all agree that guys watch for very different reasons… with very different motives. We watch to see half naked women walking around in outrageous underwear. Our minds also wander to very different places… I know you can’t actually buy most of the absurd crap the models are wearing, but what if you could? I mean, taking off a bra is one thing, but what if we had to remove your wings before sex? What if a girl took off her shirt and pants and was wearing a full on peacock outfit equipped with feathers, and we were expected to remove that. I’d leave. AHAHAHAHA, totally kidding, I wouldn’t leave…what am I, crazy?

I particularly like the behind the scenes stuff of the models, when they are acting goofy and stuff. Why? Because for those few seconds, they seem like normal human beings that I could actually interact with and maybe get an OTPHJ from. When they are walking down the runway, they are not human, and I avoid direct eye contact at all cost. NEVER LOOK A VS MODEL DIRECTLY IN THE EYES!

We’ll be live Tweeting the whole event on Tuesday, so make sure to follow us on Twitter, or make sure to unfollow us before then! We’ll close with some runway bloopers. See, models ARE human!

Pick Up Basketball

A couple months back the geniuses over at DudePerfect created one of the most relatable videos I’ve ever seen. Check it out below. Anyone who has played pick up basketball at any point in their life, has run into at least one of these stereotypes…or, is one of these stereotypes.

My friends and I play pickup basketball and in Men’s Leagues way too much and take it way too seriously. We treat it like the NBA Finals most days. We bicker like our lives depend on it. We sometimes don’t speak to each other for days over things that occur on the court. We all think we are way better than we probably actually are. Quite simply, its beautifully awesome.

Once you graduate college and come to terms with the fact that the NBA or NFL doesn’t want you, intramural sports is all that’s left. Some people play for the purpose of getting exercise, or getting away from their wives/girlfriends, but most, in my humble opinion….play to relive the glory days. Uncle Rico used to be able to throw that ball a quarter mile. Everyone knows an Uncle Rico and everyone has some sort of war story from the greatest athletic performance of their lives. I can remember in college, the days we had basketball or flag football games, zero work was accomplished. Paying attention in class? Not a chance. It’s definitely not to the same extent anymore, but yea, I get pretty excited to go out there and compete/dominate other 20-somethings. SO BACK OFF!

Most of the guys I know are ultra competitive athletes coming up on the tail end of illustrious careers. Many of these people played college football, basketball, baseball, and other sports at Division 1 schools. Now, pick up basketball is all they have left. We all play through rolled ankles, bad backs, bad knees, bruises all over our bodies, aches, pains, jammed fingers and just plain ol’ being tired. We all complain about the refs, having to play at 10pm some nights, and our bruised bodies. But, deep down, I know everyone loves it and will genuinely be sad when the fat lady sings.

Most girls don’t get it. They think we are ridiculous, they can’t understand how or why we take it so serious. They don’t understand why, after losing a game, we don’t want to to speak and act like it’s the worst day of our lives. They don’t understand how or why we could yell at a referee, over a meaningless call, and get thrown out of a game. They don’t understand why there is absolutely no foreseeable reason that would cause us to miss a game against our friends teams. Maybe a natural disaster or a death in the family, that’s about it.

I guess once our playing careers come to an end, and we get over the initial depression, we pray for athletic children, so we can be the scary parents on the sidelines. The parents that bore their children with their old war stories, yell and scream embarrassing things at the officials, yell and scream embarrassing words of encouragement at their children, and live vicariously through their children’s athletic accomplishments.

Cheers to having athletic kids! As always, give us your thoughts on Facebook and Twitter!