Fun fact: On June 22, 2011 there was not a SINGLE baby item in my house… Then I left work on June 23, 2011. As ever, I jumped in the car, picked up my mother and took her home. As I walked in the house, Katie was ending a call and advised me that she was pregnant. To those who know what we WERE planning, this was a ton of bricks on the both of us. For the entire of the prior 7 months, Katie was planning for a bariatric surgery and had a schedule date of 06/28. The pregnancy test that had (now) cancelled surgery was a part of the pre-surgery performed on EVERY woman scheduled to have it. As active and consenting adults, the disappointment of this happening when it happened was one thing, but the urgency of planning for a baby overrides such sensibilities. We went to premarital counseling immediately upon receipt of the news and started planning. OB appointment set for the following week to establish how far along we are and begin some REAL planning for this. ...
"... pay athletes and musicians so much?" That is a question simple fucktons often ask when they cry to White Jesus because they're only making 35k annually... I look at it like this. NBA arenas seat on average about 25thousand people each. Tickets, comparing the courtside, suite and nosebleed tickets, are about 50 bucks each. Parking is not free, nor are refreshments... That is a total of $1,250,000 in tickets sales PER game, no? And that is even BEFORE concessions and the 9-fucking-dollar watered down beers... They will play 41 of those games every season in that arena, more if they make the playoffs. Assuming the very natural sellout crowd, we're looking at $51,250,000 per season. Television stations, local and national corporate sponsors WANT to try and sell shit to those 25k people, so they will GIVE the owner of the team money to put logos and place flashy advertisements all about the arenas. Television companies? Yep, they will cut the team (owner) in on their ...
I spend a lot of my (semi-) adulthood running away from my childhood… … oh, and I will NOT be addressing my absence for the last month. IYKYK. When I dropped by my barber two weeks ago, the first thing he asked was "damn, how many pairs of shoes do you HAVE!?" as I was sitting down to receive my fade. I sat and calmly explained that my sneaker collection -- and yes, I wear my shit -- is a direct response to how we came up. We didn't have a lot, and 100% literally never got new release shoes, always the clearance ones or the ones that found their way to Marshalls, until I was a senior in High School and could buy my own shit. Even then, I got a side eye for buying them. Sure, we had Nikes but not the ones everyone else had. More frustrating is that this happened in the golden era of the early 90s, so my interest in sneakers at that time was mostly as an outsider who couldn't afford to come inside. That w...
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