I’m a big guy, always have been. When I was young, I was very skinny, but I’ve always been tall. These days, I’m a little over 6’4″ and around 260 pounds. Like I said, I’m a big guy.
I was also very active in my younger years. I’ve always been into sports, and during my younger years, I played sports on a daily basis, in either organized leagues, or out on the street with my friends. When it got too dark, or if it was raining, I was indoors, playing sports-based video games. As my sister puts it, I had a permanent ring of dirt around my neck.
In my early twenties, I dislocated my shoulder playing football with my friends. Shortly after that, I dislocated it again. I had to have surgery on my shoulder, to repair a ligament that was torn, due to the dislocations. After surgery, I foolishly tried playing football again, before it had fully healed. Of course, I dislocated my shoulder again. After about a dozen dislocations, I had to have a second surgery on the shoulder.
When it became obvious that my shoulder was permanently screwed, I stopped playing sports. I had a couple years where I was playing paintball on a weekly basis, but other than that, there wasn’t much physical activity that I was doing.
During my twenties, my weight hovered around 205 to 215 pounds, without me putting any effort into staying healthy. Shortly after I turned thirty years old, the pounds began piling on. If I was in the gym constantly, my weight was fine, but after I quit going, the weight shot up to where I am today.
After moving into our new house, I decided that since we live in a nice big neighborhood, with decent scenery, that I would start riding a bike daily. When the weather warms back up, I’m going to start doing laps in my pool nightly. Even if it’s a struggle to lose the pounds, I think being active is important. I can’t get motivated to spend tons of money on a gym membership, and I didn’t really enjoy lifting weights that much either. Bike riding and swimming sounds fun though.
I downloaded a few apps for the iPhone that log your daily food intake, and also take your exercise into account. The apps I have then give you a regimen, and a period of time to reach your desired goals. The way it looks to me, I don’t even have to go on a strict diet to get back in shape. I basically just need to not eat disgusting food like McDonald’s all the time, and make sure that I exercise often. I’m not great at diets, but my eating habits aren’t horrible either, so I should be fine.
I’m not going to be like some people, and post shirtless pictures of myself through the process. I mean, I will have the pictures, but they are for me. If I undergo a swan-like transformation, then maybe I’ll post a picture of how disgusting I am now, compared to my end goal. For now, numbers will have to do.
12/10/11 – 260 lbs, 40 waist.
Let’s do this….
There a few things that people look forward to less than moving. I think that maybe most people look forward to dying less than moving, but I’m not even sure of that one. I wouldn’t classify myself as extremely lazy, but at the same time, I’m definitely not a busy body either. Let me put it this way; I’m lazy enough to where moving is one of my least favorite things to do, right behind interacting with morons.
We decided to hire movers this time, for a few reasons. The first reason is that we had enough money to hire movers, without having to sell our bodies on the street (again). The second reason is that my wife is pregnant, so she’s basically useless as far as lifting and moving goes. All she can do is pack and direct everyone else, which is a far cry from what she usually does; pack and direct everyone else. Wait a minute…. That bitch! The last reason that we decided to hire movers is because I hate helping other people move, so why would I ask someone to do something that I dread? If I would reluctantly do it for someone else, then I’d be quite the asshole if I asked someone else to do it for me.
The movers were scheduled to show up at 7:30 am. Those of you who know me are aware that I’m not exactly a morning person. As a matter of fact, my bedtime is often around 7:30, so this would not be fun for me. Our alarm was set for 7 o’clock, which gave us just enough time for quick showers, before getting all sweaty and filthy.
The alarm went off, and I went through my daily ritual before getting out of bed. I never want to get out of bed, and end up going through the five stages of grief when it comes time to wake up.
First is denial: “No, it can’t be time to get out of bed yet! Maybe it’s 7 pm, not am.”
The second stage is anger: “Baby, it’s time to wake up.” “Fuck you! I never loved you! If you don’t let me sleep for another hour, I’m getting a divorce!”
The third stage is bargaining: “Ok, let me sleep for a little while longer, and I’ll move extra fast. Ok, I won’t take a shower or brush my teeth, and I’ll wear the same clothes that I wore last night, because they’re right next to me. That gives me fifteen more minutes of sleep.”
The fourth stage is depression: “Why does it even matter if I wake up? Life is shitty anyway. This is all pointless. We’re going to move into a nicer house that we’ll own, but we’re still going to die one day.”
The final stage is acceptance: “I have no choice, I have to wake up. What am I going to do, stay in bed and have the movers carry me in the bed, and just place me in the truck? Wait, that’s brilliant! No it isn’t, I’m a moron. Ok, let’s do this, I guess.”
After my morning ritual, I woke up, took a shower, and got dressed. The movers arrived right on time. We used Two Men and a Truck moving service, and those two men went right to work. Hiring movers may not be super cheap, but I will say that if you use this particular moving company, it’s worth every penny. We’ve used them twice, and both times they were very friendly, and they worked hard and fast. I don’t plan on moving again for a very long time, if ever. But if I do move again, I’ll probably use them again.
Since I’m a man and I drive a pickup truck, I felt inclined to load up my truck with things to move as well. Being a man, I feel like a bum when I have people working around me, while I do nothing. So I loaded up the back of my truck with random things, just so I felt like I was doing something too, and I was miserable. I hate bumper stickers, but if I ever put one on my truck, it’d be the one that says “Yes this is my truck, and no I will not help you move.”
Within three or four hours, our old house was completely empty, and everything was unloaded into our new house, which is only five minutes away, if that. After paying and tipping the movers (they earned it), the unpacking process began. I remember hearing about an old Italian tradition pertaining to newlywed couples. The story is something along the lines of during the first year of marriage, the couple puts a marble in a jar every time they make love. After the first year is over, the couple takes a marble out of the same jar every time they do it, and the jar never empties. I mentioned this because we packed the majority of our house in one night. At the rate we’re moving now, it will take us a month to get unpacked. Oh well, there’s no rush, I guess.
Until yesterday, the legs to our dining room table was missing. I was putting my wife’s new desk together in her office, and after she unwrapped her armoire from the plastic wrap that the movers put around it, I happened to open it. Inside of the armoire, I found our missing table legs. Up until then, our table laid on the dining room floor. It looked like a dining room for Japanese midgets.
Anyway, I’m glad that the move is over. I’ve decided that I’m going to be the handy man around the house. I’m going to take care of our lawn and pool, so that we don’t have to hire services to do it for us, and save some money. I’m also going to try and tackle all repairs around the house myself. Due to these new duties, Home Depot is already one of my favorite stores. That place is amazing! You could build a whole new house all from stuff bought at Home Depot!
Anyway, that was our move in a nutshell. I haven’t written all week because of it, so my apologies. I figured after the third person texted me, asking why I’ve been neglecting my blog, that it was time to post something. Thanks for the support guys!
Here’s our new home, that we plan on raising our kids in:
Take care guys, and thanks again.
To this day, my favorite post on this blog is still I used to be a douchebag. I like it because it’s funny to me, and because I’m not attacking anyone, except maybe myself. I’m a firm believer that if you can’t take a joke, you have no business making fun of someone else. Anyway, in the comments, one of my absolute best buds, James, called me a groupie. And I have to admit, I can be a bit of a groupie for certain types of people, mainly comedians and fighters. As far as everyone else goes, I’m rarely star-struck. I’ve seen people like Derek Jeter and John Gruden multiple times, and I honestly couldn’t care less.
The same friend also threw a little shot at me when I joined Facebook, saying that I should be tweeting @somecelebrity instead. I do tweet often, because if I think of something to say, I’m going to share it. Isn’t that what Twitter is for? He was just messing with me, I know that, but he’s right. I do tweet @ some famous people, and they reply pretty often. I’ve exchanged tweets with people like Bas Rutten, Joe Lauzon, Wendy Liebman, Kelly Carlin, and I even got into an argument with a comedian that I don’t care for, Jamie Kilstein.
Anyway, I also listen to a bunch of podcasts, because there’s one for everything. Seriously, if you like talk radio, or comedy, or sports news, or anything else, then podcasts are for you. Some of them read emails on the air, so I sent an email to one of my favorite comedians who has a podcast, and he read it. Bill Burr’s Monday Morning Podcast does various segments that are based on listener emails. The one I sent in was for the “Underrated/Overrated” segment, which is exactly what it sounds like. Not only did he read my email, I think he liked it. He paid it quite the compliment near the end, which I thought was pretty cool. (the sound clip doesn’t show up on mobile phones that have no flash player, sorry)
It’s not like the email was brilliant either. I just thought of the topic on a whim, and sent it in from my phone. Bill is such a funny guy, and knows how to polish a turd so well that he made it funny, so I appreciate that. Also, the part where he got confused, and said “What?” was where I made a vague reference to homosexuality. I was saying that it can affect your social standing, and ability to get a job, but I didn’t specify. That was my fault.
Anyway, since I felt the need to dedicate an entire post to my 5 minutes of personal glory, I might as well refer you guys to some great podcasts.
WTF with Marc Maron
This is the only podcast that I enjoy more than Bill Burr’s. Marc Maron is a comedian who’s been around for a long time, and knows a bunch of other comics. He’s just a normal guy really, and has his own checkered past with drugs, alcohol, and failed marriage. He interviews guests (usually other comics) in his garage, and it’s sometimes hilarious, but always interesting. He’s had people like Louis CK, Dane Cook, Conan O’Brien, Jim Norton, and Jim Gaffigan on his show. He’s even had people like Bryan Cranston, John Hamm, and Henry Rollins on it as well. He has a free app out for iPhone and Android that streams recent episodes for free, and I strongly suggest that you at least give it a chance, because I don’t think it will disappoint. If you like it, let me know and I’ll hook you up with older episodes that you would have to pay to get. Also, his newest album, This Has to be Funny, is friggin’ hilarious.
The Adam Carolla Show
If you liked the old Love Line radio show when Carolla was on it, then you’ll love his podcast. It’s the exact same humor, but uncensored. He does like 5 episodes a week, and it’s always entertaining. He has guests on too, who basically just join in on the fun. Last week he had Dave Attell on, and it was very funny. This is almost always in the Top 3 on iTunes’ comedy podcasts rankings, and for good reason.
The Joe Rogan Experience
If you’re going to call me a groupie, then you have to mention that I’m a Joe Rogan groupie. He’s the best color commentator in MMA (actually in all of sports if you ask me), he’s a hilarious comedian, and he’s just an overall cool dude. His podcast is a long one, usually running around 2 1/2 hours, which is about how long he’s high for. Yes, he gets really baked, then starts the show. His friend Brian Redban joins him on the show, usually with a guest. Any time that Bryan Callen or Ari Shaffir are a guest on the show, it is unmissable for me. The conversations they have are always great. Sometimes they have serious conversations, which are also very interesting.
The MMA Hour
I love MMA, and this show is perfect for someone like me. It’s hosted by Ariel Helwani, who is the best MMA journalist there is, hands down. Being the best means that he has the best guests on the show. He’s had pretty much any fighter or MMA person you can think of on the show, Dana White included. Ironically, the show usually runs around 2 1/2 hours, even though the title would suggest otherwise.
Well, those are the ones that I listen to the most. I listen to a couple of other ones every now and then, but there’s too many good ones out there, so I can’t listen to them all. It’s great, because you can listen to a podcast anywhere, in the car, at work, or in your living room. As a matter of fact, they came in very handy on my recent trip to Minnesota. The plane rides were over in no time thanks to podcasts.
Whatever you’re into, chances are there’s a podcast for you. Millions of people listen to them, but millions more should.
Have you ever played out scenarios in your head, wondering how you would react in stressful situations? Have you ever assumed what would happen if you were in a life or death situation, and if the people surrounding would help you? Have you ever helped someone who was in need, possibly saving their life? If you answered “yes” to any of these questions, then this story may interest you. This past Sunday afternoon at work, I was presented with a situation similar to the ones described above.
I was watching football and having an easy day, and then Randy came to me with an urgent look on his face. Before I go too far into this, I have to tell you that Randy is a bit slower than most people. That being said, he’s also a much better human being than most as well. Anyway, he came to me and said “Tony, there’s a guy in the game room who’s just shaking.”
Although Randy’s description wasn’t straight from a medical book, it was accurate enough for me to understand the situation. I assumed that someone was having a seizure, and ran to the game room to find the person. I’ve seen seizures before, but never as violent as the one Randy had stumbled upon. The victim of this seizure was a young guy, no older than 20. He was laying across a racing game, so that his back was arched in a very uncomfortable angle, with his eyes rolled back into his head, and he was shaking very violently. The scariest thing was that he was vomiting, and it was bubbling out of his mouth, running up his face. I knew that choking was a danger, so we (when I say “we” I mean mostly Randy) lifted him up and laid him on his side, all the while I had my phone on my ear calling 911.
Before I had even gotten to the room to help this guy and call 911, there was a group of people around the same age in the room. These people not only didn’t help this guy, they were looking at him as I entered the room, while reaching into their pockets for change to put in a video game. They had looks of bewilderment on their faces, half smiling. All that was missing was them yelling “Wow!” If you see me on the ground shaking, don’t watch, help! If you don’t know what to do, find someone who does.
After we laid the man on his side, the 911 operator got a description of the situation and sent an ambulance our way. She confirmed that having him on his side was alright, to prevent the man from asphyxiation. While he was seizing though, there wasn’t much more that I could do. All I could do was make sure that if and when this guy came to, that he stayed on the ground until the paramedics arrived. I told Randy to stay with him and just make sure that he stayed put on the ground, while I went outside to direct the ambulance to the nearest entrance.
It only took 3 minutes for a firetruck to arrive, so I showed them where to park, in airport runway fashion. 5 people jumped out, and one of them asked me what the situation was, as if this were a daily occurrence for me. A female on the team proceeded to give a play by play to the state of the building we were in, with cunty comments such as “it smells like smoke in here,” but whatever. When we got to the man, he seemed to be coming around. I was thankful for that, because I honestly feared that he would die. Anyway, the medics surrounded him and began to talk to him slowly, letting him know what was going on. I stepped back to give them room to work, but stayed in proximity in case there were any questions.
Just as the medics were putting him onto a stretcher, the people who were watching earlier started asking me questions. I quickly dismissed them with “I don’t know,” and waited to see if the medics had any questions. After they carted the man away, I asked one of the medics if it was just a seizure, and not something like a drug overdose, and he responded “We don’t know. He won’t answer any of our questions about his medical history, and isn’t being very friendly with us.”
If you want an example of why I think the worst of people, look no further. While I trust and believe in my immediate family and close friends that I grew up with, I automatically assume the worst of others. I don’t ask for, or expect kindness from others, and I am always thankful when I’m surprised by it. As far as my actions go, I’m just the way I am. Part if the reason I acted the way I did was because it was my job. But I do believe that if I was walking down the street and saw this happen, I would do the same thing. I know for a fact that there’s no way I could see this happen and not even get help for the victim. I also know that if I have a medical emergency, I wouldn’t be a dick to the people helping me. Pardon my pessimism, but people fucking suck.
I’m not the type of person who holds back my thoughts, obviously. That being said, I don’t run around spouting off opinions just for the sake of it. But if someone asks me for my opinion on something, if I choose to answer you can rest assured that my response is genuine. And although some of the things that I say at times may be considered mean or harsh, I pride myself on being the way I am, because what I say is always true.
I don’t think that people who sugarcoat their feelings are bad, I just can’t do that. I’m sure if I made an effort to be that way I could do it, but I think that being honest regardless of the outcome is a defining characteristic of mine. I always tell people to just be themselves, and if I can’t even be true to myself I would be a hypocrite.
There was one situation that arises in my head, where a friend of mine handled something in a completely different way than I would have, and I can see why. Even though I see why she did what she did, there’s no way I could do it myself. Who the people are in this story is not important, although I’m positive that my readers who know me can figure it out instantly. It’s just an example to show my feelings about being honest, not my feelings about the people involved.
As I’ve said before, I tend bar. I hate it, and most of that is due to the people whom I am forced to interact with. The lousy pay doesn’t help, but the part that wears me down mentally is dealing with morons and scumbags. The particular day in question featured a mixed bag of characters. I had a few friends of mine there, and a few people that I don’t care for as well.
A woman I know personally, but do not consider to be a friend of mine had been drinking at the bar before I had even shown up for work, and she looked stressed. Apparently she was looking for employment, and had given up for the day. I started work around 4 pm on that day, so she had probably been there for an hour minimum. When I arrived for work, she asked me not to tell her boyfriend, whom I know very well, that she was there drinking. Apparently she told him that she was still out searching for a job, so that she could stay at the bar and drink for a while longer, even though he was taking care of her son from a previous marriage. The answer I gave was my honest reaction, “I’m not going to call him and rat you out, if that’s what you’re afraid of. Just hope that he doesn’t ask me, because I’m not going to lie to him either.” It’s not the first time that I’ve told her these words either, but that story will have to wait.
Anyway, for the next couple of hours this girl was at the bar pounding drinks. Also, there was a man at the bar who hits on this chick constantly, often crossing the line with touching and such. Of course, the tradition of telling the bartender your problems commenced. This is one of the worst parts of the job; hearing the problems of a person that I couldn’t care less about. If it’s a friend or relative, I’m more than happy to listen and try to help. Someone like this, please don’t talk to me. I basically tuned her out, because if I chose to listen, I knew that she would get angry with my honest opinion.
From what I heard and remember, the main point of the story was that nobody would hire her, because the job market is not doing too great right now. Tell me about it, I’m bartending, even though I finally know what it is that I want to do for the rest of my life, and I’m getting nowhere with it. But if I’m driven by the need to support myself and my child, and someone is taking care of my child under the false pretense that I’m job hunting, I’d have no excuse for it, and I’d deserve no pity.
During the sob story, my phone rang, but it was a number that I didn’t recognize, so I didn’t answer. Less than a minute later, my boss’ phone rang, and he answered it. He walked away to where it was quiet enough to talk on the phone, then promptly came back, and handed the phone to the drunk chick. She asked, with a startled look on her face, “Who is it?” My boss answered, “You know who it is, and I’m not lying to him.” It was her boyfriend, and all I could think in my head during this was “Fuck yeah!”
The girl took the phone, and walked away with her hand on her forehead, like she was running a fever. She came back in a minute or two, handed my boss his phone back, then broke out in tears and ran to the restroom. Almost instinctively my female friend chased after her, following her into the restroom. They were gone for at least a half hour, and when they came back my friend was making suggestions as to where to apply for employment. My friend is just a nice person, but I really didn’t like the way this was handled.
I have nothing against helping someone who needs it, but only if they deserve your help. Someone who would rather drink beer when they are in need of employment is worthy of nobody’s help, except maybe AA. Even if it was a good friend of mine, if he or she was doing what this girl was doing, the only thing I would say is “I hope you’ve learned something” because that would be the most helpful comment possible in my mind.
First of all, if you’re drinking instead of job hunting, that’s a problem. Secondly, if you’re in a committed relationship, and your partner is watching your child while you’re drinking and being hit on, you’re not a great person. The fact that her boyfriend got pissed and made her cry means nothing. In my eyes, leaving her is a more appropriate response.
The fact that someone actually bought into this pity parade had me in a state of confusion and rage though. I wasn’t really angry at the person who’s natural response was to sympathize so much as I was angry at the person throwing the parade’s willingness to accept the pity without any hesitation. Seriously, if you’re like this fuck you! You’re an adult, and in this world you control your own fate.
I made my mistakes growing up, and I accept them. I’ll never stop trying to make something of myself, and I want no sympathy. The world is what you make of it, as cliche as it sounds. These people who constantly shoot themselves in the foot deserve what’s coming to them. And if you’re someone making questionable calls in life, you really don’t want to share it with me, because there’s a good chance that your forecast will call for a verbal shit storm. I say what I mean, or nothing at all.
I mentioned yesterday that I have there’s a mentally handicapped man who comes in here often. There’s several actually, and I don’t mind it in the least. Most of them are pretty nice guys, and sometimes they’ll strike up a conversation with me. Some of them are actually fun to talk to, and can carry on a conversation better than you baboons.
So yesterday, I was just doing what it is that I do at work, and a regular group comes in. They all walked in and waved to me, so of course I smiled and waved back and greeted them. Believe it or not, I’m usually a pretty nice guy. I know who these guys are, but I don’t know them on a personal level. I don’t even know their names, they’re just familiar faces.
One of the guys walks up to me, and with a straight look on his face he says “My mom died last week, will you pray for her?” If I were to look up “uncomfortable” in the dictionary, I would expect to see a picture of the look on my face at that exact moment. I had about a million thoughts running through my head, and I dealt with it the best that I could.
I’m not going to turn this into a theological discussion, but let’s just say that religion isn’t a part of my life. If it’s a part of yours, that’s totally cool with me, just leave me out of it please. My mom put up a picture yesterday that explains it pretty well.
I feel that some people think that I have a beef with religion, which is untrue. My only real gripes are that religion dictates laws such as gay marriage, which it should have zero influence on, and that some religious people look at people like myself as if we’re evil because we’re not believers.
Anyway, let’s get back on track. So he asked me if I would pray for his mother, and I replied “Of course I will.” What else can I say? “Sorry, I don’t do that.”? So yeah, I lied and said I would pray. But why for his mother?
If you’re a person of faith, isn’t someone’s fate in the afterlife already determined? What does praying for the deceased do? Is it like you’re a lawyer who is negotiating with God? I’m truly confused with the concept, but in this man’s defense, I suppose he deserves the benefit of the doubt.
I will say that I feel a little hypocritical, since I pride myself on not being a liar. What would you have done though? Someone who lost a person dear to them asked for your sympathy. I feel like I handled it correctly, although I went against one of my principles. I haven’t felt so uncomfortable in a long time though.
Is there anything worse than people who think that they know shit? You know, the type of person who walks in and interrupts a conversation to flex their knowledge muscles, only to stray way off topic most of the time anyway, because they have no idea what the conversation is about? I’m going to go ahead and give a few examples just to help you understand what I’m referring to, to see if I’m the only one extremely annoyed by this.
A prime example is the guy who has to be the one to break news. I know someone who is just like this. It really doesn’t matter what the news is about either. These people just love to think that they taught you something. The best way to mess with someone like this is to constantly text them every time big news breaks, just so they never get to be the guy who informs others. It drives them insane.
A great reward that you get from time to time is when this type of person breaks incorrect news. I know a guy who either isn’t a great reader, or just gets overly excited to inform people of something, so he often only reads half of a headline before drawing a conclusion. This man read the end of a scrolling news headline on television, that said something along the lines of “…most recently starring in the movie ‘Men of Honor’ has passed away.” From this he concluded that Robert De Niro died, and informed me of it. Of course I didn’t believe him, because De Niro dying would be a pretty big story. So of course when I found out that he was wrong and it was some guy I’ve never heard of, I teased this person relentlessly, as I should. Adamant that he read correctly, and that the tv was wrong (this happens a lot), he got furious, and was huffing and puffing for the rest of the night. I was the asshole in this situation, because I was having fun pointing out how silly he was for jumping to conclusions, of course.
As most of you already know I watch a ton of MMA. I’ll try to keep this story as easy to understand as possible, for those of you who complain when I write about MMA though… fucking babies.
I was watching the season premier of The Ultimate Fighter with Brian, just minding my own business. This young guy walks up during a commercial for UFC 135, and asks us who we think will win the Jones vs Jackson fight. So we answered, saying “probably Jones” and he replies “Thank you! Jones is going to kick his ass! Rampage isn’t even a fighter, he’s an actor. He way too old and slow.” Ok, I knew immediately that this may be either fun to talk about, or very painful to listen to, but I had to find out. I didn’t think it was ridiculous to say that Jones can beat Rampage down, but calling him an actor, and saying it so confidently is a very dumb thing to do, considering that Quinton Jackson was mauling people in Japan before Jones ever threw his first punch.
Although I could tell immediately that this kid (he’s like 21, which is still a kid to me) was a closet moron, he was obviously trying to give off the impression that he knew his shit. I had to dig deeper to see what nuggets of moronical bliss I could get him to reveal.
It didn’t take long for this young buck to treat me like I was Hiroshima and he was the US dropping a knowledge atomic bomb on me. The devastating blow he delivered was that Cain Velasquez, undefeated UFC heavyweight champion, isn’t that great because he’s too small. I was then informed by this walking Wikipedia page that Velasquez is in fact 5’9″. So, I have this nasty habit of fact-checking ridiculous statements that I hear, because for some reason I like to question the absurd. I was very unsurprised to find out that Cain is in fact 6’1″ and 245 lbs. Not exactly a little fella. It was even funnier to hear this guy talk about how small Velasquez is, because the person calling him “too small” is about 5’9″ and weighs 130 lbs soaking wet.
The thing is, even if you do know what you’re talking about, you shouldn’t walk around spouting off facts, because you’re bound to run into someone who knows more, and would love to make you look stupid. I was the kind of person who thought that he knew everything, and now that I look back I see that I knew very little. 10 years from now I’ll probably look back at present day me and think the same thing. Not knowing everything doesn’t make you stupid, but thinking that you have it all figured out makes you look extremely stupid. There’s no worse feeling than saying the wrong thing, and having someone see a flaw in your brilliant statement, and proceed to pick it apart, making you look dumber and dumber with each remark. Before you drop a knowledge bomb, make sure you know the target that you’re dropping it on.