I am a chronic facebooker. I think it’s a great social media tool to stay in touch with friends, make new ones, and learn from others if you are open to a different opinion than yours.
Opinions can’t be wrong….they are just the way someone feels but the person that posts their opinion believes it to be true. For instance: I believe we never landed on the moon and the Shuttle missions were mainly used to deploy military spy and defense satellites. A lot of people then would join the thread and call me crazy, paranoid, anti-American and probably an animal hater. It’s just my opinion….no need to dink the hater-ade (although I AM right).
Some other random thoughts on facebook; people that use a picture of their pet or an avatar freak me out. Checking into Wal-Mart is not a huge accomplishment. If your kid is having a birthday then it’s obligatory to post a pic of your kid with cake on his face. When someone switches their status to “in a relationship” I always wonder how long it will last until they change it to “single.” There is no reason to poke anyone. If I wanted to play “Candy Crush” I would already be playing…your invite doesn’t sway me. I’ll look past the “toes in the sand” and the “I have a drink with a lot of fruit in it” because that is just to big of a battle to fight.
I could be wrong….but it’s just my opinion.
On December 7, 2013 I said good bye to my best friend. He was a 14 ½ year old black lab named Champ. I held him in my arms as he was put to sleep and his journey to the Rainbow Bridge began. Champ was not just a dog. He truly was the best friend I ever or will have. We were constant companions and we really did take care of each other.
Champ never needed a leash because I had him since he was 6 weeks old and I taught him to always remain within twenty feet of me. I could let him outside and I didn’t have to watch him. He knew his boundaries and when he was ready to come back in he would open the gate on his own (taught him that as well) and he would just lay down patiently by the back door.
We would always sleep in my king size bed and when he got too old to make the jump I ended up sleeping on the couch so he could be near me. For the past three years I have been sleeping on the couch and even after his passing I continue to do so.
The first two weeks without my friend I cried non-stop. This wasn’t just a pet….I was alone without my best friend. Those of you that knew Champ know what I am talking about. Everyone would always say “that truly is the best dog ever.” He was and always will be.
When I first got Champ I was stumped in choosing out a name. I was watching the NFL Draft and they mentioned a rookie player named “Champ Bailey.” I immediately knew the name of my friend: He would be called “Champ.”
Today Champ Bailey is in is fifteenth NFL season with the Denver Broncos. Champ Bailey has never been to a Super Bowl until this year. In less than two weeks I will be cheering for Champ and his Broncos because I truly believe my best friend is a world champion as well.
I really miss my friend but honestly believe that a Super Bowl victory for Champ Bailey and his Broncos will be a fitting ending to my best friends time here on earth. I will be watching the game with my best friend’s spirit and hope to one day shake that wonderful paw in congratulations at the Rainbow Bridge. I miss you friend.
I don’t date and I do it by choice. The last time I was on a date was October 23, 2011. The world is one big bowl of nuts and I’m not ashamed to admit I’m probably the walnut but I have figured out there are three types of women that I would avoid at all costs. In no particular order here are the signs:
YOU KNOW THE NAME OF AT LEAST ONE “REAL HOUSEWIFE”: There is nothing “real” about any of these whack jobs. Watching this show is like making a visit to the local mental ward to observe the patients to feel good about yourself. If ya wanna live in fantasy land then dress up like Captain America and go to a comic book convention.
YOU THINK FISH ARE PETS: Let me break the news to ya Moby Dick….anything you can eat is NOT a pet. Fish are a meal. Ya can’t train them and ya can’t pet them. If you actually believe that you are a pet owner because you have a tank on display in your den then ya might wanna consider cooking some pasta and weaving me a basket.
YOU HAVE STUFFED ANIMALS ON YOUR BED: Unless you work at the dime toss booth at the fair and your bedroom is a closet for the prizes you need to be on some sort of medication. You are an adult so start acting like one. Do ya scream for mommy when ya have a bad dream and still play with your Lite Brite when Amanda Bynes won’t answer your tweet? I hope not.
Thanks for letting me get that off my chest….I’m going back to posting pictures on facebook of food I’m about to eat and writing various celebrities to ask for autographed pictures. THAT’S normal!