Our misprint is your misfortune.
Yes, I live in Las Vegas. No, I’m not a stripper.
Stick your game face on. Get work. Three jobs if necessary. Consider all your outgoings, rationalize, plan, change your lifestyle. Work your way back up above the parapet of financial disaster they dumped you in.
Whilst I love the sporting propaganda and embracing one’s nationality, I find that I’m becoming increasingly more aware of the culture of placing sporting bets.
Life is full of losses and failures. It’s inevitable. We’ve all experienced the days when nothing goes our way and anything we do makes it worse.
But when you almost date someone, something will give. Somehow the ends don’t meet. Either they meet someone new while you’re biding your time, or they move, or they just disappear.
That’s the quote that hit my Twitter feed today…
Would you want your child’s teacher to be hungover all the time? Neither would I, and I wouldn’t do that to your kid if he or she were in my class.
A real gambling junkie is a cautionary tale that shows how someone gets strung out on the winning, and how they ignore the losing part of the cycle.
But there it was, sitting on the table next to my bed. Brown covered with a strap to secure it from the eyes of others and a pen screaming out “I NEED TO BE USED.”