If you wake up on the wrong side of the bed, try the other side next time.  Just change a new position. 

If you have a bad hair day, brush, comb it or get a new style.  Try dyeing or bleaching your hair.  After all don’t blondes have more fun, or are just Randy as Candy.  Colour me Bad.  I’m just so Friggin Fancy.    

If it’s pouring rain out, try an umbrella, or just sing and dance barefoot in the rain.  I hear wet is all the rage.  

You heard the song, Fuck my Life.  I say life owes you shit.  So just put on a happy face, your big boy/girl pants, and suck it up Cupcake cause life is what you put into it-so give it your all; 110% or more if you so desire.  

They say the World is Your Oyster. If oysters are nature’s aphrodisiac then give me a whole plate full.  I need to drown in your ocean of lust tonight.  I just can’t fight this feeling anymore, I’m head over heels, Bang a Gong (Get It On), Addicted to your love.  I just want to run to you, into those loving arms of yours, so get here if you can, cause heaven can wait.  

Remember even successful people have screwed up or down, or just plain sucked and kissed ass many more times before they got it right or that dream position.  I assume that’s why those executive chairs and desks are so damn big-its merely an extension of their over-inflated egos or shoe size.   You don’t have to have a high IQ like Donald Trump to be successful, just have to be a polite corporate asshole willing to get your hands and knees dirty; doing what and who it takes to get a-head (no pun intended here). 

From the boardroom to the bedroom, with every rejection you are just one move closer to a Yes or another sexual harassment allegation.   

Just because you are not where or who you want to be doesn’t mean you can’t get there or be that office stud.  Just because you have not faceplanted yourself into the girl of your dreams or off the street doesn’t mean you won’t.  Maybe you just need to step up your game or carry more Benjamins. 

Whether you’re just on the scenic route, getting your kicks off Route 66 (or 69), on the Highway to Hell, or just wanna have some fun till the sun comes up over Santa Monica Boulevard-be with the one you love or love the one you’re with, and surrender to the rhythm of the night.  

To all of my Dazed and Confused Deadhead travelers I leave you this road side message,”I might be going to hell in a bucket baby, but at least I’m enjoying the ride.”

The Boss summed it up best when he belted out the lyrics-“Tramps like us, baby we were born to run.”

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