Banal Hemorrhage

Isn’t it weird how there’s always someone waiting at the bottom of the pit?  I know this is a snarky, cynical look at recovery but... I  don’t actually have a but, I’m just an a-hole sometimes. I don’t really care that people need culty things to help them get out of rock bottom, it’s that they become super annoying about it. Every person’s path is so completely different, what one person is lacking is not comparable to what most other fellow humans are lacking. And yet, you always get that guy that “Bro, do you even lift”’s you. Or that person that assures you, their church is different, their church is the true path. Or that guy with the five o’clock shadow that swears that focusing solely on work took him out of his despair. No Chad, I don’t think going to the gym 6 times a week is going to solve this ennui that I feel right now. This transitory feeling that life is just an experiment conducted by an AI simulation and I am in the control group, yeah I don’t think I can jus

It’s very easy to blame an employee for not knowing what to do. If you think about it though, isn’t it kind of the leader’s job to make sure that employees know what to do?  Clarity is one of the best gifts a manager can give to an employee, absolute certainty about what “good” looks like. For some reason, it’s rare to find a leader who has internalized this.   More often than not, I see leaders that fail to see their role in the confusion of an employee. Saying things like “They should know better” or “It’s common sense” does nothing to grow and develop employees. Many times, leaders create a culture in which people are afraid to speak up. I’ve seen this, and it’s not pretty.   When there is a “Policy”, it is frequently  an overlong document that hides in file folders. If a manager is lucky, employees read it once when they get hired. Often, it is written by what looks like english lit majors. You don’t need a plethora of multisyllabic words (like plethora) to sh

People leave. People stay. People come back. I respect their decision. Well, not every decision. There’s a few who seem to want to get away from themselves. Like a 90’s movie hacker they want to change their location rapidly so they are not traced. But they’re their own FBI.  The thing is, as many axioms proclaim, you can’t outrun your own dumb ass. If you are not happy where you currently have a social network, what makes you think you will find happiness in a new place? I only truly have faith in people who are content with themselves when making the choice to leave. Then it is about an adventure, not about placing your salvation into the not-within-you. In my life, of the people I know who said they wanted to leave: 3 out of 5 never left, but kept complaining. 1 out of 5 left and come back, with lessons learned. 1 out of 5 succeeded in finding a better life elsewhere. Unless you are a Venezuelan, in which case 4 out of 5 of us successfully left that decaying soil;

My job is hard to explain. Some days I am a leadership coach. Some days I am a project manager. Some days I am a business analyst. And all of those things require additional explanation and modulation. I often cherish the simplicity of people who can say they are dentists, janitors, or cops. A few syllables is all it takes for them! Additionally, I don’t like talking about work when I am not at work.  What’s the point of my meticulously separated buckets if I allow people to pierce through them with the World’s most popular small talk question? We are what we do, but sometimes our work isn’t even a third of what we do, contrary to what the clock may say. So I am particularly dodgy about that question. I like to think it adds a sense of mystery, but it also gives me space. Extra Panel: Another point of view Also, I’ve made some magnets so you can make your own crazy scene in the fridge! Get them here! 

It’s not that I don’t care, it’s that my ear bones constrict systematically during a conversation. Medical experts have often been baffled by this phenomena, a first in its kind. They may call this condition Banal Ear in my honor. It’s true, trust me, I’m a guy on the internet. My lack of attention is arguably a more famous aspect of my personality than my penchant for providing impromptu and improper sound effects to mundane things. Arguably. Every teacher I had gave me the spiel about how much better I’d do if… by that time my attention had ran its course so I never got to hear the “if”.  It’s probably no picnic to my chosen one, Roxanne. It likely comes off as selfish. It likely IS selfish.  Material possessions are not my goal, it has been replaced by becoming a better me until the day I die. I have oceans to cross, but this is one of my most important journeys. How do I become a better listener to my wife and loved ones? That’s the question I will answer as the

Roxanne and I have two cats rooming with us. They are both females and they both eat though their mouths and defecate through their butts. That’s were the similarities end.  When we use a laser pointer on them, our muted, brown tortoiseshell cat looks straight at the pointer and then straight at our souls. She knows what’s up. The white fluffy cat, she is still waiting for the laser dot to come back in the place she saw it last. 2 weeks ago.  I am certain she will start a new religion around the phantom dot. The brown cat, or Khaleesi, as she likes to be addressed, is a shrieking nightmare, all gnawing and all knowing.  She inspires comics like these . The white cat, or Eris, she is a needy nightmare. She is all wanting and all demanding. She inspires comics like these. And yet, Roxanne and I are all about them. They're the best non-humans we know.  Extra Panel:  Eris would make a very cute Sikh, if it wasn't for her selfishness, neediness and lack of

I like fake violence. I can't stand real violence. To me it's Fake Violence >>> Dr. Pimple Popper >>>>>> Real Violence. In fact, when fake violence looks too real, it loses it's appeal. There's something to the artistry of fake blood and guts that has always appealed to me, probably since my dad traumatized me by showing me Carrie at 6 years of age. That desensitized me to gallons of movie blood real quick. Thanks, dad. As I see it, I'm living proof that video games don't cause violence. My brain, and I expect most others, can flip the switch of 'real' vs. 'not real'. Mortal Kombat on the Genesis was my babysitter for a while and never have I ever wanted to rip someone's spine from their body. Or see it happen in real life. My wife was switching channels and landed on Dr. Pimple Popper once, and it was one of those times when I can spot a huge rift between us. While it definitely grossed her out, I cou