Many of us are spoons in a drawer full of knives. We wonder why we can't do the same things as others, why we don't fit in, why we look different, why we can't "cut" as well as the other knives. Its because we don't realize we are spoons in a drawer full of knives. 

What I mean by this phrase is that many of us fail to realize the purpose of what we are "meant" to do in life, instead of realizing what we are most capable of doing. The inherent talents we don't realize we have.  Many of us "spoons" watch "knives" do what they are good at day in and day out with such precision, success, and ease it makes us want to be knives too. So the spoon practices and tirelessly sharpens its edges to be more like the knife until its able to cut just like the knife. The tragedy now is the spoon is just a second class knife.  The spoon ruined it's chance of becoming a world-class spoon because it never realized or discovered it was capable of scooping, measuring, or digging. Things the spoon was always capable of doing and excelling at but never took the time to realize because it was trying to be like the knife. 

I use the spoon and knife example to compare how often we try in vain to find our "purpose" because we are either delusional of what our talents are or we try to buy into someone else's idea of who we are and what we should be. We often buy into someone else's idea of what success and happiness are because we never took the time discover it for ourselves...or we were too afraid to try.

Some talents aren't as easily recognized as being great at math, dribbling a basketball, or being able to sing...but the talents that each and every one of us have can be maximized to their potential with great success. Providing not only a great feeling of satisfaction for ourselves, but providing much use and service to others. 

The goal and a true blessing is to be able to discover and cultivate our talents to maximize our potential. Sometimes discovering your talent comes by accident, sometimes its that nagging voice you've always had inside your head (not in a schizophrenic way), or that yearning you've always had to try a particular something. Its not always easy and it may take time, but its worth exploring. The fear shouldn't be of failure, instead, it should be of failing to at least try. I cant think of a justifiable excuse to never at least TRY!

Don't be afraid to try.  Instead, be afraid of living a second-rate version of someone else's life instead of a world-class version of your own.

This is deeper than most of my posts, but it was on my heart.  I felt someone needed this as much as I did when I originally wrote it.

On to the review!!!

Upon first bite, I taste..wow!  These are salty!!!  I taste an overwhelming amount of salt!  As my taste buds begin to settle, I can taste cilantro and onion clearly.  Distinctly.  The remaining flavors of cheese, jalapeno, and garlic kind of blends together in an indistinguishable mish-mash of salty confusion.  Weird thing is, I KINDA like these, but they are just too salty to be taken seriously.

2 outta 5 on the Chip Mack scale. 

Fellas, how many times have you woke up next to your wife or girlfriend and she has an attitude for no reason?  You try to joke with her only for her to reply "Not Funny."  You try to be affectionate, only for her to push you away. 

Guys, if you've experienced this like I have, you too may be a victim of Freddy Krueger giving your girl the dreaded "your man is cheating on you dream"

I've NEVER cheated on a girlfriend in my life, but in dreams?  I've apparently cheated multiple times with countless women.  I can be the best communicator, most caring, most attentive boyfriend ever...yet all it takes is for my girl to hear a song or see an attractive woman from my past in order for Freddy to pay her a visit.

What bothers me the most is why do the "yo nigga cheatin" dreams have to be the most vivid ones? The only time my girlfriend has an extraordinary Steven Spielberg-like imagination is when she's dreaming I'm cheating on her.  Her dream is comparable to a Lifetime movie. And like a Lifetime movie, the cheating dreams all follow the same formula...I'm a nice guy but I'm secretly a scumbag, I wine and dine my fictional mistress by taking her places I take my girlfriend, followed by a vivid love-scene which further convinces my girlfriend I'm really cheating and solidifies her hatred for me when she wakes up.

As of now, I'm not aware of any cure nor a remedy to avoid the dreaded cheating dreams.  The best any of us guys can do is be supportive, understanding, and have the patience to constantly reiterate over and over again  "baby, it was just a dream...I'm not cheating." all day until she gets over it. 

Good luck guys.  Don't feed your girlfriend after midnight and please do not watch a lifetime movie with her before bed.

Anyway...on to the review!!!

Upon first bite, I taste artificial American cheese.  It's quite overpowering.  Initially, that's very disappointing.  As I continue to chew, I taste tomato and basil, but  the flavors taste very artificial.  The flavors remind me of those cheap microwavable pizzas from when I was a kid.  You'll eat it, but it's not the most enjoyable thing.  Overall, decent chip, but they did not meet my expectations.

2.75 on the Chip Mack scale.

One night during the holidays; me, my cousin Ryan, and my Dad were at my Uncle's house drinking spiked eggnog (those that know me know how I feel about Costco Eggnog) and reminiscing about the days we all lived in the apartment complex my Grandpa owned. 

​Those were some good times!

I left my Uncle's house to head back home about 10 minutes before my Dad.  As I pulled into the garage, I hear a car screech around the corner then see it proceed to hit a speed bump at about 70 mph...launching it into the air.  It was my Dad.  

My first thought was "Damn, Cliff must really need to pee."  Until seconds later when I saw the flashing red and blue lights right behind him. As soon as I saw the cops, I opened the car door, but stayed inside the car as not to be mistaken for a suspect.

My Dad pulls in the driveway and the cops immediately pull behind him to block him in.  My dad jumps out of his car, the cops follow.  They all run circles around his car chasing him like the most absurd game of duck-duck-goose I have ever seen.  One of the cops yelled out "SIR!  WE'RE NOT GONNA DO THIS RIGHT NOW!"  Clifford responded with "I'M SAFE!!! I'M SAFE!!! I'M IN MY DRIVEWAY! Y'ALL CAN'T GET ME!"

I'm staying out of this shit.  I entertainingly watch in disbelief, waiting for guns to be drawn and figuring out how to avoid getting caught in the cross-fire.  It never happens. The cops apprehend my Dad without incident or excessive force.

Once my Father is secured in the back of the cop car, the police walk over to me asking my relationship to the suspect. I tell them he's my Father.  "What the fuck happened?" I asked the police.  "Well, we were parked and we saw your father speeding, flying over speed bumps. We didn't know if he was in trouble or what was going on so we followed him."  Turns out my Dad saw the police car, overreacted, and tried to get away as he thought they would pull him over.  Overreacted is the understatement of the decade.

A few months later, I go to visit my dad in jail.  It's the first time we've seen each other since that night.  My dad still looks pissed.  I pick up the phone to speak to him through the glass. "Hey Dad...how's everything?" He looks at me, takes a deep breath and replies "Son, why didn't you save me?" I say back to him "Save you??? What did you want me to do?"  Without missing a beat he says "Why didn't you use some of that Kung Fu shit."

He was serious.

Anyway...ON TO THE REVIEW!

Upon first bite, I get an amalgamation of flavors all at once.  Immediately the flavors begin to separate.  I taste onion (grilled onion to be specific), meat flavoring, and american cheese.  I'm always amazed at how well Lays re-creates flavors of food items on one potato chip.  The more I eat, the more the flavors become blurred together. I like them.  These chips would go great crushed inside a turkey sandwich with mayo, lettuce, and tomato.  On their own they're just a decent ship.  

3 outta 5 on the Chip Mack scale.

Real Estate agents.  We all look the same in our pictures.  Nice, approachable, professional.  Pictures can be deceiving!  

A few years back, I opened escrow on a cute little house with some first-time buyers I was representing. Before submitting the offer, I contacted the listing agent (we'll call him "Steve") to introduce myself and build rapport.  Building rapport between agents initially goes a long way.  At some point during the transaction something inevitably goes sideways requiring cool heads and teamwork between the Buyers, Sellers, and their agents to find an amicable solution.  You'd be surprised how many Real Estate transactions fall apart because of emotions and hard to deal with personalities!

Steve was a young, brand new agent.  These new agents watch too many Real Estate reality shows and get inspired to enter the business.  They usually don't last long because they love the intensity of getting a deal done.  That shit is for tv...as he would soon learn form me.

When I presented an offer to buy Steve's listing on behalf of my clients, Steve suggested we cross-qualify with his lender.  A cross-qualification is where the Buyer's lender submits all of the documentation used to qualify the Buyer to the Listing Agent's Lender.  That way the Listing Agent can ensure the buyer can secure the loan.  Anything can be written on paper, a cross-qualification shows proof the Buyer can deliver on what was offered.

Y'all know my preferred lender is my sister, Tanya.  She's my lender not because she's my sister, it's because hands-down she is the best lender I know.  She's successfully obtained home loans for people even I doubted they could qualify, let alone purchase.  

Tanya immediately reached out to Steve's lender providing him with everything requested of her.  The next morning I get a phone call at 7 am from Steve yelling "I don't know what fucking game you're playing but HURRY UP AND SEND ME WHAT I NEED TO CROSS-QUAL YOUR BUYERS.  YOU'RE WASTING MY TIME!" I calmly told Steve to let me check what happened and I'd call him back.

I called Tanya to verify she sent everything.  She told me Steve called yelling at her as well. Tanya was pissed!  I told her "Tanya, let's just stay calm and do what's best for our clients. We've dealt with assholes before.  We'll get this closed.  That's the important thing."  I called Steve back.  I asked him to check his SPAM folder. He found everything he needed from Tanya in his SPAM folder.  All he had to do was check his email thoroughly.

Steve apologized and said he was sorry for blowing up at us.  I told Steve there was no reason for any of that. I responded "We have a long escrow ahead of us, Steve.  We have to work together,  If there is ever an issue, please call me anytime and I promise we can work out a solution together.  Amicably.  We both want the same thing for our clients.  The Sellers want to sell, the Buyers want to buy.  Let's not get in the way of that."  Steve agreed and thanked me for my "years of knowledge and experience." 

My guard was still up.  Ego stroking...I see right through it.

A couple of weeks went by and everything went relatively smooth, until the appraisal came in $10,000 under contract price.  That meant $10,000 less for Steve's sellers.  Steve called me, obviously upset.  I told Steve not to worry, we can still get the deal closed.  We have no control over an appraiser's report, but there is a solution where we can continue with closing the deal.

Steve, out of nowhere told me to 'SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

I was at home. Barefoot and in basketball shorts. My heart started beating fast.  My face got warm. I got out of my office chair...stepped into my flip flops, grabbed my car keys, and asked Steve "Where would you like to meet so you can shut me the fuck up?  Let's meet in your office parking lot so you can shut me the fuck up.  I can be there in 25 minutes.  Please come shut me the fuck up."  I headed out the garage door.

"TODD...OH NO!  I'm sorry man!  I had a long day. I'm going through a lot!  I didn't mean that!" Steve shrieked through the phone.  

I told Steve "Look, player...you see my happy face on my cards and ads.  You hear my nice and cordial voice when we speak.  Don't get it twisted.  I'm still a man.  You're not going to speak to me any fucking way you feel like.  Right now, your emotions are getting in the way of you selling your client's home.  Don't let your ego get in the way of that.  I can let this go as long as it doesn't happen again"

Cooler heads prevailed.  Steve agreed to lower the purchase price to the appraised value and we successfully closed the deal.  I added Steve to my list of  DO NOT WORK WITH AGENTS.  He was entry number 7.

ON TO THE REVIEW!!!

I open the bag and take a whiff, smells like smoky bacon.  Upon first bite, I get a smoky flavor of fried chicken skin.  Not much heat initially, but the heat builds very slowly as you proceed through the bag.  The heat stands alone as it has no flavor of pepper or spices.  Your'e aware of the heat from a distance,then it creeps up on you with every bite.  One you hit the half-bag mark...BOOM...the heat is in your face.  Staring eye-to eye with you like that Hall and Oates album cover.  Still, with all that being said, these are not overly hot at all.  The heat builds, dissipates, the builds again.  Very enjoyable even if you don't like "hot chips."  These remind me of the old school BAKEN-ETS hot and spicy pork rinds that have been around forever.  I enjoyed these.

4 outta 5 on the Chip Mack scale.

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