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Authors: Neil Pasricha

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BOOK: The Book of Awesome
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Yes, in those perfect scenes you’re suddenly a
Bus Fleet Fat Cat
, swimming in tickets and tokens, commanding your private army of Sugar Rollers around town to pick you up and drop you off as you see fit. Baby, if you’re feeling this buzz, then there’s no reason you can’t get right into it too—whistling with both pinkies just before it stops or
clapping your hands beside your ear twice
as if you’re hailing it for real.
And how perfect is it when this
dream scene
ends with the bus stopping right in front of you, the door swinging open, and the bright round-faced driver flashing you a big toothy smile, a tip of the cap, and a wink as you walk in the door.
AWESOME!
That last crumby triangle in a bag of potato chips
Kick-starting a bag of potato chips is pretty much standard—you open with the double-pincer squeeze-and-pop technique, start fishing out the prime, full-bodied chips at the top of the heap, and then work your way down to the half-broken chips in the middle of the bag. A few minutes in you’ve chomped your way down to the bottom and you might think you’re pretty much done. But wait, that’s just the beginning.
That’s when you get to the best part, that’s when you get to the
last crumby triangle
of potato chips wedged right in the corner of the bag. You know what I’m talking about. Usually at this point your lips and face are covered in grease crumbs and your fingers are
neon orange
, coated in a thin film of salty saliva.
That delicious patch of potato powder is all yours, but to get it you have to get a bit dirty:
• First of all, you won’t be able to see your fingers down that crinkly, mirrory well, so you have to tilt the bag sideways and size up that crumby triangle for what it’s worth. See what you’re dealing with here. Commit to a game plan.
• Next, even though your fingers might already be wet at this point, it’s best to be safe with the ol’
Thumb & Index Finger Pre-Lick
. Come on, slide them right in and out of your mouth, don’t be shy. Remember: The crumbs are in there deep, and your slightly sticky spit-glue will help mine the greasy plunder.
• Next—attack! Wedge your wet thumb and forefinger in there hard, and squeeze until you feel like you’ve got most of it. Then pull out quick, and in one swift move sweep and drop that last, crumby triangle right onto your tongue, making sure to lick the stubborn remains off your fingers while saying
Mmmm
a lot.
Now, while the
Thumb & Index Corner Pinch
move is gritty and explosive, there is a backup technique that will still get the job done if you don’t like to get your hands dirty. Those in the biz know what I’m talking about: the
Dump-Truck Bag-Tilt Maneuver
. This one requires two hands, a gaping mouth, and a 45-degree angle to turn the trick. You can use it alone or in tandem.
But either way, almost entirely composed of salt and artificial flavor, that last crumby triangle packs a
full-flavor finishing move
, unlike the watered down sip at the end of a soft drink cup, the stump at the bottom of a muffin, or the toothbreaking kernels hiding in that last handful of popcorn.
AWESOME!
Bowling celebrations
Because let’s be honest: Most people are
pretty stinking awful
at rolling a ball the size and weight of a human head perfectly straight down a sixty-foot lane. There are gutters on both sides, you’re slipping in torn-up shoes that have been through
a war and a washing machine
, and every time you go up for a toss you’re up onstage with critical eyes piercing holes in your back, watching your every move.
It’s pressure, all right.
But that’s what makes it so great when you finally pick up a perfect spare or nail a
ten-pin knockdown
in the final frame. That’s when it’s time for a bowling celebration—ideally featuring several of the following:
1.
The Stage Dance.
Hey, you’re up onstage, so why not throw out a couple of moves? Perhaps the famous Hulk Hogan ear cup, the invisible hula hoop, or the fist pump? If all else fails, you can moonwalk back down to your seat. The shoes should help.
2.
The Celebrity.
The paparazzi loves you and you love them back, only without the paparazzi. Smile, wink, and pose for the invisible cameras on your way back to the orange plastic seats.
3.
The All-Business Around-the-World High Five.
This can happen when you have around ten hands to slap. There are just too many hands, so your eyes narrow, your eyebrows crunch, and your tongue fixes itself on your top lip as you focus on nailing every single high five offered to you. You don’t miss a slap. Yes, you’re all business around the world.
4.
The Overly Exaggerated Jump.
Always a fan favorite. Just watch out for that greasy floor and those skiddy shoes.
5.
The Friendly Stranger.
This is where a casual stranger who has been keeping a passive eye on your game suddenly leaves his lane and jumps into your bowling celebration. The Friendly Stranger can be awkward, but it gives your sweet roll some extra lane cred.
Now, whatever your style, it’s important to remember that once you hit down some pins, it’s all about the bowling celebration. You can do no wrong at this point, so just relax and do a little dance.
Make a little love.
And get down tonight.
AWESOME!
Slicing open a taped-up box with a set of keys or a pen
Don’t worry about finding a knife or pair of scissors, because MacGyver’s in the house.
AWESOME!
Sitting next to someone good-looking on a plane
Sure, you know how it goes.
Belly gets rounder,
head gets balder
, and that hunch starts poking out the top of your coat. If you’re young, don’t worry, because those years in the sun and those
years having fun
might hurt your beauty but they can’t hurt your pride.
Take it from us.
We’re all going to get old one day. So let’s just
love the age we’ve got
and let’s not crave the age we’re not. Amen, sing it to your mama.
And while we’re all smiling and climbing that slow stairway to heaven, golf, and grandkids, I say there’s nothing wrong with crossing our fingers and hoping for a
cute seat-mate
on that next flight to Florida.
Because Grandpa’s got a sideways stare. And Grandma doesn’t mind peeking either.
Oh, I know what you’re thinking. When we get old, we’re the mature, refined,
wise old sages
of society. We’re above enjoying the company of some pleasant
eye candy
with a sweet smile for a few hours up in the sky, right?
Speak for yourself, chump.
AWESOME!
When you manage to squeeze out enough toothpaste for one last brush
Say you wake up
Monday morning
and realize you forgot to set your alarm clock. Now not only did you miss some quality snoozetime, but you’re late for work to boot. You jump out of bed,
jump on the toilet
, jump in the shower, jump into some clothes, and run to the bathroom to brush your teeth before running out the door.
But then you see it.
That
thin rolled-up toothpaste tube
lying completely empty on your counter, the life squeezed out of it over the past few weeks. Your jaw drops and your memory shoots back . . . . . . you vividly recall making the first dent in the tube’s soft
cylindrical purity
, back when the paste was flowing like water, just itching to flood out. It seemed like it would never end. Over the next few weeks, there were some great moments, like:
• The time you forgot to put the lid on and had to squeeze real hard through a
tiny pinprick hole
in the center of the congealed toothpaste wall the next day.
• The first time you had to roll it up, coiling the thick, once-mighty
toothpaste anaconda
into a tightly wound fraction of itself. This was foreshadowing, but the paste kept flowing so you thought nothing of it.
• The time you actually thought you were out of toothpaste but managed to unroll it and slide it real hard across the edge of your bathroom counter, completely coaxing all the minty green molecules up to the front door.
You smile slightly at foggy memories of better days, before your brain quickly jerks you forward to the present.
Which is right now.
When you’re late for work.
You stare into your empty tube of toothpaste,
glance quickly at your watch
, and decide to just go for it, one last time.
You grab your brush, grit your teeth, and squeeze your thumb and forefinger together as hard as you can, right on the head of the tube. You squeeze and squeeze and squeeze and squeeze, your thumb pounding,
your brow pulsing
, your brush pleading . . .
. . . until it finally comes: that very last, very weak,
very small dot of toothpaste
, peeking its head out the toothpaste tube tip just in time for you to swipe it with your brush, swish it around your mouth, and spit it out.
AWESOME!
Using Q-tips the way you’re not supposed to use them
Yes, I’m talking about
rubbing and twisting
that cottony Q-tip tip right inside your ear canal. Get it in there deep, where it doesn’t belong, because it’s like an amazing, satisfying
inner-ear massage
.
Also, the more
dark, waxy, and disgusting
the Q-tip is when you’re done, the more satisfying it is, am I right? Because then on top of the inner-ear massage, you get a killer “Whoa, that just came out of me . . .” high too. For those keeping track at home, that’s two highs for the price of one.
Not a bad deal!
Now, I know what you’re thinking: How could we possibly advocate doing something so terribly dangerous like pushing a hard, pointy object against your fragile ear drum? I mean, the box itself says right on it: “
Do not insert swab into ear canal.
Entering the ear canal could cause injury.”
But come on, we all do it. And we know we probably shouldn’t. It’s dangerous and unnecessary and risky and illegal and against all common sense.
But it feels so good.
AWESOME!
Watching
The Price Is Right
when you’re at home sick
At an early age, it is possible to learn the price of life through
The Price Is Right
.
How many eight-year-olds know a can of chickpeas costs eighty-nine cents? How many twelve-year-olds can rattle off the features of a new solid oak armoire? And how many fourteen-year-olds can estimate the value of an ice cream maker, new speedboat, set of maracas, and trip to Puerto Rico?
Well, I’ll you who, man:
any kid with the flu
.
See,
The Price Is Right
is great when you’re sick because it comes on at 11:00 a.m., which is about the time your enthusiasm for missing school is sort of deflating into a boring day on the couch with a stomachache. By midmorning, whoever is taking care of you has either headed upstairs or thrown a blanket on you and
gone grocery shopping
. You feel too sick to do much of anything, so you just lie on the couch and flip channels endlessly, trying to understand why there’s nothing good on TV.
Then finally, as you’ve finished counting cracks in the ceiling, tried and failed to
legally nap
several times, and mindlessly gobbled down a pack of saltines, the clock strikes 11:00 a.m. and it’s time for the show.
That’s when the music starts kicking,
the lights start flashing
, and it’s time to come on down. Because it’s
The Price Is Right
, baby. So sing it with me and let’s get in the game. It’s just such a great time.
And, you know, I think it really helps that everybody on
The Price Is Right
is just so happy—people are running and jumping, laughing and screaming, and they’re all wearing homemade T-shirts to boot.
Basically, they feel the exact opposite of how you feel and it’s sort of contagious.
BOOK: The Book of Awesome
13.4Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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