Awesome Things #10

The Christmas holidays are stressful.

Gift shopping, money dropping, and through it all you’re planning giant family dinners, and complicated travel plans.

It’s nice in these roaring revved-up moments when a complete stranger catches your eye and wishes you a heartfelt "Merry Christmas".

Whether it’s the cashier at the supermarket, the receptionist in an office, or the lady getting a perm beside you at the salon, it’s nice scoring that warm littleseason’s greetingsto remind us we’re all chasing the same ol’ thing.

That’s right: Love, big hugs, family time, and cozy company right when we need it most.

Merry Christmas!

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Awesome Things #9

TYPING USERNAMES AND PASSWORDS

Put your hand up if you type slow.

Yes, if you’re a clickity-clackity finger-punching purist whose chubby fingers stab at the keyboard with the rhythm and grace of a tiny bird picking pebbles at the park, then you’re not alone.

Stumbling over emails, bumbling over reports, you touch-type with a finger-bouncing pace that backspaces a bunch, slows down in a crunch, and gets twisted and snarled on big word speed bumps.

Thank goodness you’ve got your username and password for some speed of lightning superfast quick-typing.

Oh yeah, baby.

Yes, when you log onto your computer, innernet, or email account your fingers suddenly take on a life of their own. They become possessed and you barely recognise them as they zip-zoom across the keys in a windy blur like The Flash.

Sometimes you really don’t even know your password because your brain has outsourced all memory of it to your fingers who somehow always manage to come up with it right when you need it most.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Awesome Things #8

SHORT PEOPLE

They’re short and there’s nothing they can do about it except learn to live with their crazy shortness. For this reason, we respect them and think they’re cool.

If you’re really, really short, you feel it, because this is your life:

• Forget seeing anything at concerts. Sure, everybody loves being behind you, but at what price? The standing area is a bad scene and mosh pits are strictly off limits. No, you’re stuck sitting at the bar or watching from the balcony.

• You can’t reach anything. Kitchen cupboards and closest shelves are bad enough, but the worst is when you find yourself somewhere alone and stoolless. People, if you’ve ever found yourself climbing the hotel bar fridge to reach the coffee filters or stepping on the metal grocery store shelf to reach the hot sauce then you know what I’m talking about.

• Hard to date people. Well, not hard, but complicated. I mean, would you date someone really, really short? If not, you see the problem here. And don’t even get me started the short-guys-dancing-with-tall-girls things. Fellas, I been there, too. It’s not easy.

• You can forget about that pro-basketball career. You might still make it as a referee, but that’s about it.

• Shorter life span. Sadly, according to the eggheads at The New York Times short people are more likely to develop coronary heart disease, diabetes, and stroke. Bummer.

• You’re constantly adjusting driver’s seats and mirrors. On top of that complain when they get in the car after you and have to adjust everything because they can’t fit.

• Some roller coasters are off limits. Minimum height requirements are clearly relics from a discriminatory society that inhabited this land before us.

It really is a tough life.

So next time you see a really, really short person, break out the empathy. Remember: they’re short and there’s nothing they can do except learn to live with their crazy shortness. Sure, they buy cheaper children’s clothes, find the best spots in Hide and Seek, sleep easier on couches, easily avoid walking into tree branches, are more comfortable at movies, and curl nicely into cramped spooning arrangements, but they also have to live life with a lot of limits. In this upside-down and inside-out world, that’s worth something.

So go on and throw them a smile and a nod, a cracking high five, and some quiet and humble respect.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Awesome Things #7

Peanut Butter

When I peel the top off a new jar of peanut butter I like to pretend I’m a scientist peering through the world’s most powerful telescope, catching Earth’s first glimpse of a new, strange and distant planet. “It’s got a smooth surface,” I exclaim to the lab of giddy professors standing breathlessly beside me. “Yes, it’s a beautiful airless landscape, untouched, undisturbed, and light brown.”

Because seriously, that’s what the top of a jar of peanut butter looks like to me. I almost feel bad thinking about what I’m about to do, because it’s just so perfect, smooth, and dense. But I put some bread in the toaster anyway, grab a spoon from the drawer, and then go right ahead and dig that spoon in there deep, catching a heavy handful of thick PB when I pull up, a loud, wet, satisfying schthlop plopping out of the jar.

It’s a great feeling.

After that, I’m an artist. I can just leave a big, gaping hole right in the middle of the jar, or I can do it all up real fancy and twirl and swirl it around a little, or I can painstakingly carve a moat around the outside of the jar, leaving a perfect, flat island in the middle, becoming more and more unstable with every passing day. The options are unlimited.

Really, I think getting the first dig in a jar of peanut butter is the kitchen equivalent of stabbing a flag into the moon and claiming it as your own. I mean, you mark that peanut butter. You brand it. You add your little stamp and you put it back in the pantry, ready and waiting for the next big schthlop.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Awesome Things #6

Eating Cookies Like The Cookie Monster

It sure is a sign of gluttonous satisfaction when you find yourself home alone, slouching on the couch in front of the TV with your eyes half open, a steady trail of cookie crumbs dripping from your mouth onto your shirt and pants, chocolate smears on your lips and fingers, and the telltale cookie package laying beside you, the plastic tray peeled all the way out of the bag, entire rows laying vacant except for a bit of brown dust and maybe a rogue chocolate chip or two.

Yes, it’s satisfying all right, because many delicious cookies were eaten, without witnesses, in a very quick and steady stream, by shoving them into your mouth, chewing a few times, and then swallowing quickly to make room for the next one. You’re a cookie monster and you love it.

Eating cookies like Cookie Monster is great because, more than anything, it represents freedom. Yes, free thought takes you to the pantry, free will makes you grab that cookie package and sit down on the couch, and free Wonder Years reruns keep you company while you sit down and enjoy. You’re the Executive Chef in your personal Dessert Kitchen here. Just tell me that’s not liberating.

I mean, sure, we all know it’s not the greatest idea to eat a pile of cookies just before bed, but that’s not the point. The point is: you can do it. Yes, you’ve come a long way from the portion-controlled cookie snacks you got when you were a kid, that maybe two or three cookies in a small plate with a tall glass of milk that just whet your appetite for more. Now it’s all you all the time, baby. Nobody is going to stop you except you. You can eat a whole row. You can eat two whole rows. You can plough them in there. You can savor them slowly. The point is, it’s such a great feeling to scarf cookies without abandon like Cookie Monster.

Truly, he was the role model for us all.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Awesome Things #5

Rain Hair

You know when you get caught in the rain and your amazing hairdo turns into a wet, frizzy mess? Well, I say that’s a good thing. Because hear me out.

Let’s talk about how much time, money, and effort we put into the managing and upkeep of our golden locks of dead skin cells. How about a lot? Now, don’t get me wrong, I play the game too. I wash my hair, condition it up, gel it up, shake it up. I prepare it for the day and check in periodically to see how it’s doing. Any rogue locks, fallen bangs? What’s new in the slowly-going-bald corners? And how’s that back-of-the-neck beard coming in this month? I spend way too much time on it. And my hair looks like a squirrel that’s been run over on the road for a few weeks.

Our pals over at Wikipedia make hair sound like the Sun or fresh water, saying in their snooty tone that head hair has ‘gained an important significance in nearly all present societies as well as any given historical period throughout the world.’ But then again, those eggheads can make anything sound pretty serious. It’s just hair, after all.

I say maybe the army got it right when they instituted crew cuts after World War I trench warfare gave everyone lice and fleas. Maybe there’s something to be said about the no-maintenance plan, the low-maintenance plan, or the no-plan at all. Because whenever I walk by someone with hair just flying everywhere, all unkempt and full of knots, dirty dreads, and dead leaves, I get jealous for a second. Think of the free time they have! I mean, sure, they stick out. But… what if we all got in the game? Then maybe we’ve got something. Then maybe everyone’s garden would look immaculate, the gyms would get really crowded, and the libraries would run out of books. You’d just have to put up with all these shaggy, scraggly sasquatches walking around, that’s all.

And that’s what I kind of like about rain hair. It’s a temporary escape from the Hair Prison we live in. When everyone shows up at the movies or mall with the wet and frizzy flyaways, the hair matted to their foreheads, and the hair spray dripping and stinging their eyes, it’s like yeah, we all look like a mess. But the rain sure does wash away expectations, too.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Awesome Things #4

Batteries Included

I’m the Robin Hood of batteries.

Since I am a very cheap person I always rob from the rich, battery-filled remotes on my couch and give to the poor new gadgets laying on my counter. I stumble around Sherwood Living Room, clicking open plastic battery doors, hunting for dependable double-As to get the job done.

Of course, this battery robbery always backfires next time I sit down to watch a flick. I plop onto the couch and pick up the lighter-than-usual remote and then curse my former self for screwing my current self. Then the camera pans to another scene of me stumbling around again, this time battery-jacking the poor so I can feed the rich.

It’s a terrible, neverending cycle.

That’s what makes it special when batteries are included. That’s what makes it special when when you yank open the new Baby Farts-So-Real and there’s a small, plastic-wrapped case of cheapo batteries from the Taiwanese black market sitting in the box.

Sure, sure, maybe those knockoff Ultra-Power or Extra-V Vvoltage batteries don’t inspire the most confidence, but whatever man, because surprise batteries are a big win every time.

It’s like the company is saying “Come on, let’s get going, people.”

“First round’s on us!"

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Awesome Things #3

Flipping The Pillow

Have you ever found yourself laying in bed wide awake in the middle of the night?

You know how it is: the clock’s clicking past 1:30 AM and you lay there wide awake, eyes bugged open, chewing your upper lip, tapping the sheets with your fingers, completely frustrated. Your pupils have long adjusted to the dark, so your eyes are darting around the room over and over, trying to identify dark shapes or watching the moonlight shadowdance around the walls. Maybe your thoughts won’t settle down, or you just can’t get comfortable, or you ate spicy food before bed, or you have a presentation the next morning, or maybe it’s just the frustration itself keeping you in a terrible, neverending cycle of sleeplessness.

So you play dead and try to remain motionless as long as possible. You change positions back and forth, side to side, left to right. You get up and go to the bathroom or start reading a book. Maybe you try and remake the bed, since by now you’ve probably managed to twist your sheets and blankets into a completely unusable, tightly wound pile barely covering your legs.

On nights like this, where you just can’t sleep, one of the greatest things invented is simply Turning Over The Pillow. Yes, flipping over your pillow and checking out the other side takes Bed Comfort up a few notches and is a simple and easy way to help you relax and get more comfortable.

The other side of the pillow, folks. Because it’s flat when you’re sagging, fresh when you’re stale, and cold when you’re hot, baby.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Awesome Things #2

Pouring The Perfect Drink

Pouring a cold fizzy drink or beer into a glass sure can be a stressful job.

Yes, all eyes are watching as you attempt a Hot Spotlight Pour late at night, surrounded by thirsty people, empty glasses, and focused, judging eyes.

You could get sloppy and cause a Bubbly Volcano to erupt, staring in horror as the drink owner tries to quickly suck up all the carbonated lava spilling over the edge of the glass. Most likely, you’ll end up with a sticky hands, a wet table, and some nasty stinkeye.

Or you could have the opposite problem and pour a Coke No Show. That’s when you cut your pour off early because you’re afraid of the Volcano. It’s understandable, but when the Coke fizz or beer head settles down and leaves only half a glass, well — that’s just embarrassing.

No, the perfect situation is when you pour a drink where the bubbles go right to the top but don’t spill over. It’s an exhilarating rush to see those bubbles just fizz up and up and up and up to the top, and then a massive wave of relief when they calm right back down just in the nick of time!

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Awesome Things #1

AIR INSTRUMENTS

Oh, there’s more than just guitar.

How many of these other air classics have you pulled off?

1. Air drums. Riding shotgun and nailing solos on the dashboard or cooking dinner and feeling the beats on the kitchen counter, you either go with the My-Fingers-Are-Drumstricks method or the My-Fists-Are-Holding-Air-Drumsticks method. Both sound excellent.

2. Air Keyboard. No Air Resume is complete without some strong Air Keyboard experience. Nail it by squeezing your eyes shut, raising your brows, biting your lip, and swaying back and forth.

3. Air Harmonica. Using sparingly for Bruce Springsteen and Tom Petty songs.

4. Air Cow Bell. If you master Air Cow Bell, be prepared to be invited to all the coolest parties and hottest dances. Bonus points for playing with a giant, open-mouthed smile and wildly bobbing head while being really, really tall.

Yes, rocking out in a state of air-playing bliss is one of life’s great joys. When you’re in the zone there’s a tear in the fabric of space-time and you’re suddenly transported to a sold out Air Stage in front of millions and millions of sweaty screaming Air Fans.

Your big buckets of passion and never-ending supply of energy helps keep our planet spinning, so pump those fists, nail those high notes, and rock on, rock star, rock on!

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

There's A Saint For That #10

Saint Bonaventure, Patron Saint of Bowel Disorders

Bonaventure was a thirteenth-century Franciscan philosopher and cardinal who died suddenly after experiencing intense stomach pains during a church council in France. The cause? Could have been a ruptured bladder. May have been poisoning. Whatever happened, he gets the patronage of gastrointestinal difficulties. Cheers.

(All content: Excerpted from Pocket Guide to Sainthood by Jason Boyett. Copyright © 2009 by John Wiley & Sons, Inc. Reprinted without permission of the publisher, John Wiley & Sons, Inc)

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

There's A Saint For That #9

Saint Fiacre, Patron Saint of Hemorrhoid Sufferers

Fiacre was an Irish saint whose herbal remedies gave him a reputation as a skilled healer, especially in relation to discomfort in unmentionable places. He's also the patron saint of cab drivers. Jokes about the cab driver/hemorrhoids correlation are way too easy, so we'll refrain.

There's A Saint For That #8

Saint Drogo, Patron Saint of Ugly People

Drogo, who suffered some weird affliction while on a pilgrimage, which led to a physical deformity that was so bad he frightened all the townsfolk. "Don't look at me! I'm hideous!" we can imagine him saying. So Drogo walled himself into a cell attached to his church and lived in solitude for the next forty years, to protect the community from his repulsiveness. Feel better, unattractive people!

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

There's A Saint For That #7

Saint Clare of Assissi, Patron Saint of Television

Clare was once too sick to attend mass, but ended up seeing it miraculously displayed in high-def on the walls of her room. She could hear it, too. Now you know who to blame for the invention of reality television.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

There's A Saint For That #6

Saint Bernard of Mountjoux, Patron Saint of Skiers

Bernard preached the Gospel to the people of the Swiss Alps. He founded a monastery at the highest point of a snow-covered, avalanche-prone pass, which was used by French and German pilgrims passing through on the way to Rome. Bernard and his monks, along with their big, fluffy dogs (yes, that's where St. Bernards get their name), helped travelers who had succumbed to the deep snow and bone-chilling weather.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

There's A Saint For That #5

Saint Caedwalla of Wessex, Patron Saint of Serial Killers

Caedwalla was a Saxon king who kept expanding his influence by killing off other kings and forcibly taking their kingdoms. The historian Bede tells of Caedwalla going through the countryside "by merciless slaughter." But then he went on a pilgrimage and presumably started to feel bad for all the slaughter. Then he got baptized, after which he died. Which technically makes him the patron saint of remorseful serial killers experiencing deathbed conversions.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

There's A Saint For That #4

Saint Vitus, Patron Saint of Oversleeping

Vitus was once accused of sorcery and tortured for it by being thrown into boiling oil. He was joined in the scalding oil bath by a rooster, thanks to a belief that sacrificial roosters combated sorcery. The connection to roosters led to a connection with early rising, and the early-rising thing earned him a patronage of people who oversleep. Sounds like someone's trying a little too hard to get a cool patronage.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

There's A Saint For That #3

Saint Isidore, Patron Saint of the Internet

Isidore, a sixth- and seventh-century bishop who loved learning and placed great value on a broad, open-minded education. He wrote a twenty-volume compendium of "universal knowledge" called Etymologiae—the first known encyclopedia in the medieval world—in addition to works on grammar, astronomy, history and theology. Might as well have called him Wikidore.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

There's A Saint For That #2

Saint Martin of Tours, Patron Saint of Geese

Martin was about to be named bishop but didn't think he'd do a very good job of it, so he tried to hide in a flock of geese, But the geese, sensing he was up to no good, honked and honked until Martin was discovered. So now, apparently, he protects them. (You are not alone in thinking "Geese? Since when does anyone ever require intercession on behalf of geese?" You're also not alone in wondering what kind of idiot tries to hide in a flock of birds. This patronage? A big honking mystery.)

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

There's A Saint For That #1

Saint Ambrose, Patron Saint of Beekeepers

As a baby, St. Ambrose had a swarm of bees land on his face—not to sting him but to leave a single drop of honey behind as a prophecy about the future power of his preaching. Unfortunately, Ambrose's mom thought it was snot and just wiped it clean with a tissue. Way to ruin a good relic.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Heaven

Most of the heavenly biblical account seems to indicate we’ll spend our eternity in a place filled with the presence of God and lit by the dazzling brightness of his glory, a place where sickness has been banished, where sin is absent, where sorrow is no more. It’s a land of healing and eternal bliss and infinite goodness.

We are finite creatures. Knowing how to even begin thinking (or singing) about something infinite is a real problem. So at some point in our cultural history, we set aside the ethereal thinking and approached Heaven from a new angle. This direction was more accessible. We replaced the glory and light and divine presence with stuff borrowed from a 10 year-old girl’s bedroom: puffy white clouds, rainbows, twinkly music and blonde baby angels wearing white robes. We took the most profound idea in Western philosophy and turned it into the lamest place possible.

When it comes to heaven, we Christians have allowed our culture—which includes the Church—to really ruin our thinking about what it is.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Chuck Norris

I understand that the kids today love irony and also anything from the ’80s, but Chuck Norris is an insane right wing Republican madman. That means he is opposed to universal health care and pro illegal wars. How is that cool or ironic? That being said he is also a terrible actor (see Walker, Texas Ranger) and a sub-par martial artist. If hipsters and teenagers need to latch onto some moronic icon from a decade they were not even alive during then please, for the love of god, worship Mr. T.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Questions

To me, the interesting thing about questions is that, throughout our lives, we flip between asking a lot of them and not inquiring at all. We’ve all seen annoying little kids continually ask, “Why?” and be encouraged by their parents. Then in school it becomes uncool to ask questions in class; and in large college lectures it’s almost impossible. But when job interviews begin, we’re asked, “Do you have any questions?” and we are expected to fire away thoughtfully. Even though at this point in our lives, all most of us want to do is curl up in a little ball and ask the interviewer, “Can I have some juice?”

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Horror

What is the purpose of true horror? To present evil in its truest sense and to provoke a sense of fear from its viewer and, in return, forcing the viewer to face his or her own fears. We see this in our culture's heightened fascination with a certain blood-sucking race. Tweeners flock to Twilight like moths to a flame, yet the series pales in comparison to the infamous cultural tide that was Harry Potter. Yet, in this fascination we see a desire to live forever, albeit forever young. Vampirism, in the modern sense has been romanticized into a 13-year-old girl's fantasy world, yet still there is an intentional, yet subtle invitation to question one's passions, face your temptations and long for immortality. As we see in Bram Stroker’s Dracula, the name Dracul literally means “Devil” in the character’s original Wallachian language. Stoker brilliantly portrays a character so convincingly evil and subtly powerful, yet also presents itself as an invitation to choose between good and evil. True evil has been displayed.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Conformity

There are times when non-conformity just looks like fitting in. It's become a fashion in itself.

Conformity isn't following the crowd. It's following the crowd without thinking.

But non-conformity can go too far, people who resent the "system" so much they will go to great lengths to avoid following the rules and norms of society.

Grow up, and co-operate. You think everyone likes the suits and ties? The nine to five life? But they co-operate because rent isn't free.

Maybe they’ve figured out what it truly means to make this life count. But that doesn’t sit well with your anti-authority, "me against the world" category that you’ve placed yourself in. Do you honestly think the average man celebrates the system? But they cooperate.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Brain

There are some really bored scientists and neurologists out there coming up with some crazy ideas as to how you can make your brain get bigger.

It is said that brushing your teeth with the opposite hand stimulates brain activity in the morning. I tried it and stabbed myself in the back of the throat. Yeah, I'm wide awake now.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Growth

"Grow up!” How many times have you heard the demand thrown out with vitriol, shot out of the mouth like a bullet? From childhood, we are conditioned to believe that “growing up” is worthy goal—but in reality, we're often a generation of Peter Pans stuck in a perpetual adolescence, saying “Who wants to grow up and get old?”

We are stuck in flux. We are told to explore, to create and imagine, to find the perfect job and perfect spouse ... but also that settling down is lame and for old people. Yet, there is a longing to be grown-up and be movers and shakers, not just people with ideas that can change the world but people who have the power to change the world.

Where do you stand?

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Bike

I saw a news report recently about some cycling eco-mentalists. And one of them said:

"So your car does how many miles to the gallon? My bike does an infinite miles per gallon!"

Oh, really? Do you fill your bicycle with a gallon of fuel and it just goes forever? I’m betting not. Bicycles don’t run on petrol or diesel (obviously), they’re human powered, and humans don’t run on petrol either (also, obviously). Just as the bicycle gets its energy from you, you get yours from food. Food is farmed. Farms tend to use giant diesel-powered machines to collect crops and move livestock. Slaughterhouses and processing facilities use electricity that comes from coal and nuclear power plants. Then more diesel trucks deliver all this processed food to your supermarket. The store uses electricity to keep everything fresh and so that you can see what you're buying. Then you pedal down there and buy your weekly supply of steak so that you can power your infinite bicycle and be all smug about it.

I understand what you’re trying to say, but the way you say it makes you look like a totally clueless look-at-me-I-care-about-the-environment sheep.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Security

I get nervous whenever I walk through security sensors leaving libraries or stores, even though I haven't stolen anything. It's a very strange feeling, I'm always afraid they will spontaneously go off and everyone will stare.

Or sometimes, if the alarms do go off, I suddenly panic and think to myself, "Oh no! Have I actually stolen something? Have I gone mad and swiped a whole load of CDs?" At that point I always feel like I should run away, even if I'm innocent...

Or if the alarms don't go off I punch the air and cheer!

Either way, I look like an idiot.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Comparisons

The other day I was on Facebook and saw someone's status refer to the latest Muse album. This person commented that Muse had gone a bit "Baggy Trousers in one of their songs", this, of course, referencing the famous Madness song. But this comparison is totally unjustified! Just because it had some horns in it does not mean you can compare it to a Ska track!

There are many other examples of people being foolish with comparisons.

Me: "Oh have you heard of the Halo Friendlies?"
Person: "Yeah, they've totally ripped off Paramore."
Me: "What? Are you kidding? Just because it's a girl fronted punk rock band does not mean they've copied Paramore. And they've been around since Paramore were in nappies! Stop being an idiothole."

It stretches even beyond music, it reaches into films and tv as well.

A new teenage vampire movie? Copying Twilight.
A comedy about friends sharing a flat? Copying Friends.

I even heard someone comment that the Narnia films were trying to muscle in on Lord Of The Rings territory.

I despair.


www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Flies

The most annoying of all insects, the droning buzz of a fly veering off its course to circle around my head has me swinging my arms up in an often futile attempt to knock it away before it decides to burrow into an ear, nostril, or—worst of all—eye.

Possibly more irritating, however, are the ones who flaunt their fast reaction times by landing in the same exact spot I shooed them away from half a second earlier.

Sometimes they even seem to work in teams, each landing in different places so that while I chase one away, the others are left alone.

I hate flies.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Superstition

When I was younger I heard some really weird superstitions. For example it was bad luck to walk over a set of three drains. And at the time I always ignored this stupidity. Until something awful happened, and now my mind has been changed.

OK, so you do run a huge risk walking over the drains in the middle of the pavement. They will break and you will fall in, and you will be swept away into some underground world with Master Splinter and his entourage of half shelled talking ninja turtles.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Hell

Somtimes, not always I hasten to add, you might hear a Christian utter a certain set of words. Either in a preach, in a conversation, on TV or radio. What are those words, I hear you ask?

"Yes, you're going to hell."

What? Are you serious? Why would you even say that?

Is it loving? Can you imagine hearing Jesus say that?

No.

Of course you wouldn't.

Those words do not sound loving. They do not sound encouraging. They are not going to help anyone on their journey!

It is not a Christian's job to dictate who is going where.

"Preach the gospel... if necessary, use words."

By all means discuss it. But carefully and in love.


www.twitter.com/mistertombola

One-Up

People who insist that they did whatever it is that you mentioned long before you did, thus making them the “better person”, or “more cultured”, when in fact it only makes them sound like jerks.

I just can’t express the hate that I carry for these people. You tell them a story about something you’ve done, and they immediately tell you about how they did almost the same thing, only when they did it, it was 75,000 times more awesome than you can imagine. There is no way that your grandfather contracted malaria while fighting for peace in Africa. There is also no way that it was magically cured when he got struck by lightning. The second time. While he was inventing cold fusion. I find myself just making up the most outlandish stories that I can think of to see what they come up with in response. I can’t imagine how they’d expect me to believe them. There was a guy that I went to school with that made up so many of these stories I finally just asked him how he found the time to accomplish all these amazing feats. Needless to say I was shocked when he didn’t claim to have invented a means of non-linear time travel. Luckily he got detention for incompetence. Looks like I one-upped him on that one.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Song

There are songs about nearly anything; love and heartbreak, politics and the environment, skating and dancing.

But when something is going on in my life I find it hard to enjoy some songs that don't reflect that. For example there is an MxPx song called "Brokenhearted" which is all about, well, y'know. It's a brilliant song but at this point of my life I simply can't listen to it. I'm not brokenhearted and whenever that song comes up I have to skip it.

It's strange but true.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Goblins

First of all, nobody can tell me what a goblin even is. I’m sick of hyper-fantastical authors trying to make goblins something special. Who cares? Any other creature of myth seems like it could make a goblin look like a teacup, so why bother? Why is there a bottom rung on the ladder of mythical creatures? And how can David Bowie be a king of goblins? I know he's a bit weird but he doesn't even look like a goblin!

Anyway, if I ever see a goblin I swear I’ll kick it in the face and explain why he and his whole race are a bunch of no-good gold-snatchers.

I swear I’m not racist against goblins. They just don’t make sense to me.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Switch

Ever laid in bed just longing to sleep, you toss, you turn, you try anything to sleep. But you just can't.

So, you lie there and think. You think about the day you've just had and you think about the days to come. You get more and more tired but now you've started thinking you can't stop.
You think through scenarios, you imagine whole days, you imagine what would happen if you lost the people you love and it keeps spiralling; endless situations and expectations.

But I have found a simple remedy to this curse.

Keep a notebook and pen nearby. Write it down. Get it out of your head.

And not going online at stupid o'clock helps too.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Knowing

I feel like I have false notions of so many people, just because I know them only or primarily through the Internet. It's so much more interesting and enlightening to get to know someone in reality, without all that. I like being able to discover things about people by asking them, hearing from them, having mysteries and encountering little discoveries along the way. I like seeing the dissonance between someone’s facial expression and or body language and what they are saying. When we all have control over what we look like and how we define ourselves on the Internet, it removes that mystery. And it turns "friendship" into something that has less to do with knowing people deeply than just knowing whatever bits and pieces of them they want to reveal (which, granted, happens in real-world relationships too, but moreso on the Internet).

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Menu

I find it weird when I'm at a restaurant with someone & say, "Ooh the fettucini alfredo with chicken and mushrooms sounds good. Looks cheap too." They then respond with, "Ooh where do you see that?"
Why does its location on the menu matter? I just described it to you exactly.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Faith

You wake up. It's Sunday morning, 8 am. Grotesquely early for a weekend. You grumble to yourself and crawl out of bed to wash and eat before going to church.

Notices.
Sing.
Reading.
Sing.
Prayer.
Sing.
Sermon.
Sing.
Home.

You wake up. It's Monday morning, 7 am. You're forgotten all you've heard the day before.

That is religion.

Faith is remembering and living the words from Sunday on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday...

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Hope

I don't believe there is such a thing as "false hope". Hope is a personal thing.

Granted, people may have hope in the same thing but what differs is the level of hope. How much hope has that person put in something or someone?

When it comes to the important things there is no such thing as "false hope". The hope you have is yours and no-one can judge it right or wrong. True or false.

Rob Bell put it this way:

"Every little bit of hope you stumble upon is real."

www.twitter.com/mistertombola
www.twitter.com/realrobbell

Love

You're sat in the park with your loved one, just watching the world go by. The clouds, the children playing, the thud of a football being kicked.

Then something catches your eye, something a little bit out of the ordinary. A little bit weird, but at the same time it's something wonderful.

You look back at your companion and they saw it too. It's like you are the only people in the world to have witnessed this strange event. And you share a look that is understood by only the two of you.

And that look says, "What the heck was that?"

www.twitter.com/mistertombla

Phone

Sometimes the phone will ring while I'm cooking or in the bathroom, then as I rush to the phone to answer I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello? Dammit!), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to answerphone. What did you do after I didn't answer? Drop the phone and run away?

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Followers

I think people misunderstand Twitter sometimes, they look at your profile and judge you on how many followers you have.

I believe they are missing the point, don't judge me on my followers. To be honest most of them are either spambots or people who follow people hoping to be followed back! I've only ever received messages from one stranger via Twitter.

Instead of judging me on my followers, judge me on who I'm following. You can find out what I'm like by looking at the people I find interesting. Why do I follow that person? For entertainment? For news? For information?

These are the things that are important.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Boombox

I hate people who use their cell phone like it’s some sort of boombox. Do you think I really want to hear the latest song by Q-Tip or Lady Gaga? Better yet, do you think people care at all what you’re listening to? Put some headphones on if you really want to hear the song that badly and stop being so uncourteous.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Quizzed

Nobody cares how sexy some one-question internet quiz says you are. Generally the people who feel the need to display that they are “98% sexy” are the very people that need such ludicrous proof, since they are, in fact, not sexy.

Nobody cares which character from The Hangover you are. Being Allen is most certainly not an accomplishment.

Nobody cares that your true love’s name begins with an “L”. Wow, in real life your girlfriend’s name is Lauren? No way! Let’s be serious, we all know that you took that quiz over and over until it finally came up with the correct result so you could post it for everyone to see and prove that you two are just SOOOO incredibly perfect for one another.

If you honestly feel the need to post these, then you are just trying to prove something to everyone else.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Hand-Dryers

Whoever thought them up was either looking to make some money or was just plain misguided.

Not once, in my entire life, has one of those machines actually succeeded in drying my hands. Regardless of how much they crank up the air flow, it is never enough. I still always end up wiping my hands on my jeans, inside of my shirt or something.

I love trees as much as the next guy, but lets face it, toilet hand dryers aren’t helping in the slightest. I use more resources with the running of the machine in my futile attempt to dry my hands than with the two strips of super thin paper towels that actually work.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

42

Don’t get me wrong, I love Douglas Adams, and his books are great, but I am so sick of people who, whenever anything even mildly philosophical comes up in a discussion, will somehow manage to make a 42 joke, and then giggle to themselves. Stop it. You are not clever. You are killing the book and what could have been an interesting philosophical conversation.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Conversation

I hate it when I think of something really great to say during a conversation, but by the time I get a chance to speak, we're on a different topic. Do I let it pass and keep the good thought to myself, or do I awkwardly bring up the old topic again?

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Typing

The letters T and G are very close to each other on a keyboard. This recently became all too apparent to me and consequently I will never be ending a work email with the phrase "Regards" again.

www.twitter.com/misterombola

Grounded

Children that love to read are virtually ungroundable. Parents could take away music, tv, friends, and internet with no sign of remorse. But books? No one in their right mind is going to take a child's books away!

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Genius

You have to wonder how low the threshold for excellence is when people declare the most moronic or simplistic of ideas as genius or brilliance. “Look, he has a cup of water on his head! That’s sheer genius!”

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Video Games

Do you remember when you were a kid, playing Nintendo or a Sega Mega-Drive and it wouldn't work? You take the cartridge out, blow in it and that would magically fix the problem. Every kid in the world did that, but how did we all know how to fix the problem? There was no internet or message boards or faq's. We just figured it out. Today's kids are soft.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Expectations

We expect anything and everything. We expect the contradictory and impossible. We expect compact cars which are spacious; luxury cars which are economical. We expect to be rich and charitable, powerful and merciful, active and reflective, kind and competitive. We expect to be inspired by mediocre appeals for excellence, to be made literate by illiterate appeals for literacy. We expect to eat and stay thin, to be constantly on the move and ever more neighbourly, to go to the ‘church of our choice’ and yet feel its guiding power over us, to revere God and to be God.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Literally

I hate when people misuse the word “literally”. Do they literally understand what that means? When they say “it’s literally raining cats and dogs outside” I know they mean it’s raining pretty hard, but literally cats and dogs? That’s got to get the RSPCA fired up… literally.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

YouTube

I hate all of the thirteen year old girls vlogging about their best friend’s ex’s friend’s cousin dating the guy that she has a crush on, or all of the pathetic Star Wars kid wannabes throwing out random rubbish trying to become viral. If you don’t have any talent, don’t waste ten minutes of my life pretending to get hit in the nuts with a golf club.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Walking

Have you ever been walking down the street and realized that you're going in the complete opposite direction of where you are supposed to be going? But instead of just turning a 180 degrees and walking back in the direction from which you came, you have to first do something like check your watch or phone or make a grand arm gesture and mutter to yourself to ensure that no one in the surrounding area thinks you're crazy by randomly switching directions on the pavement.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola

Movies

I think everyone has a movie that they love so much, it actually becomes stressful to watch it with other people. I'll end up wasting 90 minutes shiftily glancing around to confirm that everyone's
laughing at the right parts, then making sure I laugh just a little bit harder (and a millisecond earlier) to prove that I'm still the only one who really, really gets it.

www.twitter.com/mistertombola