Good Cookies Vs. Bad Cookies: A Photo Guide

I just really like cookies…

Thought Catalog

Subway Cookies

SUBWAY COOKIES ARE ALWAYS A LEGITIMATE REASON TO CHEAT ON YOUR DIET — especially the white chocolate chip macadamia nut ones, but the others are nothing to scoff at. The ordering of a healthy sandwich is always negated when you’ve got these magnificent baked goodies staring at you all doughy-eyed, right before you pay. Like, c’mon, would you give an opportunity to buy scratch tickets at the end of a gambling addict meeting? Life has many crossroads and most of mine happen at the cash register of various Subways. “Anything else?” they ask, and I stand there, weak, vulnerable, and at the mercy of this diet killer disguised as a sandwich artist. Rating: 9.8/10


These must be devoured one row at a time, like a classy savage, leaving your teeth temporarily stained in black, cookie residue. If you think about it, those chocolate cookies by themselves are…

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Past and Present Truths: The Great Gatsby

Here are three things I know to be true according to the 1974 version of The Great Gatsby:


1. Robert Redford is way sexier than Leonardo DiCaprio as Gatsby. Those dreamy blue eyes carry all of his expressions throughout the movie. I haven’t planned on seeing the new version for anything except for the fashion but I have seen a crapload of footage and clips and although Leo is very good looking, in any role – except for when he played Arnie Grape, Redford could charm the pants off of any woman worth hers. On second thought, if we shared a similar mental capacity and Arnie took a bath, it could work.

2. Wealthy people are unable to be appreciative. I fully believe that you cannot be grateful for anything until you have been without. This includes food, shelter, education, opportunity, electricity, indoor plumbing, Salvatore Ferragamo shoes, etc. The wealthy have the ability to be humble and less judgmental than expected but just like in the movie, they treat other people and things as though they are toys, disposable, replaceable items. What’s even stranger is that this little theory of mine no longer just applies to the blue blooded folks in the world but now, also the nouveau riche. Gatsby, although he didn’t want anyone to know, was new to money and the only reason that he went as far as he did to get it was because he loved Daisy. He gave the ultimate sacrifice for her actions and ridiculously fleeting nature, only for her to build a new home with her cheating husband. He was always a toy to her. “A rich girl could never marry a poor boy!”.

3. It is not as difficult as it once was to amass a small fortune, hence why Gatsby owned an immaculate home on the wrong side of the bay, but it is more difficult than ever to remember what you came from. The behavior of reality stars prove this everyday. Take the “lovely”, always insanely overdressed Basketball Wives.


There is a constant reference to their “inner circle” and Evelyn loves to remind the other girls how important she and Jen are in Miami. Had these ladies came from wealth or class there is no way the would have ever married or dated goons that throw sports balls. Millions or no millions, they would need a legacy. They don’t belong in that world, their lack of discretion proves this without my convincing. These ladies would be completely different and probably alot more useful, if they remained in the world from which they came or at least remembered where that was. I believe that Gatsby could have been happy, he could’ve lived well if he left the past behind him and lived for himself. Instead, he lived for wealth and status because of his love for Daisy. Like a reality star, he lusted for something he couldn’t handle, something he wasn’t bred for. The Great Gatsby has a very powerful message that rings true to today with all of our “idol worshiping” and overnight celebrity; it is best said by Kurt Vonnegut: “We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful what we pretend to be”.

Your Facebook Pictures Annoy The Hell Out Of Me


I’m fully aware that I have narcissistic tendencies and I enjoy walking past mirrors more than I should but I’ve tried to humble myself over the years for a serious fear of being punished for vanity. Thats a personal issue – check. Umm, what i am trying to say is, some of you should try wearing confidence a little bit better. Here’s why – A smart man will see you in your one millionth Facebook post of yourself, by yourself, and know that you lack confidence in every sense of word. He will be your friend, but he’s not stupid enough to date you. A smarter man will see you and immediately know that he can take advantage of your weakness of uncertainty. A foolish man will attempt to get between you (and yourself) only to find out that your need for self exalting and self preservation are far greater in importance to you than his needs. Not only does a woman lacking confidence smell worse than a bag of week old fish heads, your overcompensation makes you undesirable, even to yourself. Do yourself a favor, when you look “good” take the same picture that you would take to see how many likes you can get and save it to your phone instead. Start an album entitled “me”. Every time you are with friends or family be sure to show them your new “photo album”. Pay close attention to their reaction and take a mental note of what you feel while you are doing it. Eventually, your solicitation of affection and adoration is not cute anymore. Know that a woman worth her diamonds does not live by the validation of others. She lives by her ability to love, her innate intelligence and humility. She walks with her head held high, never concerned with who is looking or who will appreciate the fact that she took 2 hours to get ready to run errands. Because she appreciates it. She noticed her today. She is now confident, and rightfully so, she is a woman.



A simple brush of the hand,

instantly bound,

an application of blush responds to an invite.

Bright light, dim eyes,

move slow – don’t disturb.

Come in, forever.

Desperation fills the air, dusk falls.

Inhale the weakness, sweeter than perfume.

The room spins, the floor quakes,

in a gaze, locked, no future no past.

Surely a mistake, but a sweet one no less.

Regret, merely a picture show – no sound no impact.

Seal the sentence with a kiss, forever marked.

Stripped bare, never to lock eyes again, damaged.

Never to be altered – it is fate and it is done.

The Sound Of Heartbreak


They met on a Van Gogh night.

shift – bang – crash, a distant universe collapses

The stars aligned for fate to move in. It swept across the city and faded into the eyes of the pair as their bodies wrestled lust back and forth.

boom – click, close the motel room door

They shared dreams and goals, family stories and what would come of the two of them. He would visit every weekend. Every weekend they would love and plan.

sniff – sniff, for a recreational daze

sip – sip, into inebriation

He would stare into her eyes as he drove. Something they had seen on a movie.

click – click – vroom, he shifted

He wouldn’t take his eyes off of her. He asked, “Are you scared?”. She would always reply, “Never.” – she put one hand on the wheel and one in his lap, then kissed him gently.

ring – ring, “Hey baby…”

They would talk for hours. Revealing secrets, making promises, begging for affection. I love you, I love you more, I love you most, I love you mostest – they would go back and forth to prolong the conversation that no longer had meaning, just for the comfort of the other’s voice.

ring – ring, no answer

beep – beep, it’s busy

ring – ring,  “Hello?”

“Is he there?”


ring – ring, “Hello?”

“Is he back yet?”


ring – ring, no answer

Something was different. Something had changed.

smash – she broke the bank

She used all of her money to buy a bus ticket, one way. The bus smelled like urine and the people just shadowy figures passing here and there. She kept her eyes focused on the passing scenery.

screech – “Last stop!”

She arrived. No bags, just her. She asked for quarters and found a payphone.

ring – ring, no answer

click – clack- clack, put the quarters back in

ring – ring, no answer. She left a message.

She used a strangers phone to call a friend. She was stranded – alone. He lived several miles away but it felt like they were on opposite ends of the earth.

A dark man came close in a red sedan filled with women of the night. Their faces painted for love. He asked if she was alone.

pop – boom, he stepped out of the car and walked over

He promised to take good care of her. The women in the lipstick stained car joined in the coax with squeals of drug-induced delight. She declined his offer and backed into the station unharmed.

knock – knock, “It’s me.”

Female wide eyes opened the door. His cousin and his girlfriend stared in disbelief. She pushed her way to his room, where her letters had been littered as old newspapers. Neatly on the wall were pictures of a new face and notes written, not by her hand, but another. She sat down, hot with anger.

gulp – gulp, bourbon

thud, put down the bottle

She cleansed her hurt with the elixir. The lump in her throat eased away the more she swallowed. It became the fuel to her flame.

boom, slam the car door

pop – pop – gulp, down goes the camouflage double stack and a pink lady to be sure

Minutes later, the country town was a distant memory. She smoked Marlboros slowly, while caressing the wind between her fingers.

boom – clap, the hurricane came to south Georgia that night

Her nose fell into white clouds that cried as her body became infested with alcohol and shrouded in cologne.

click – click, she rotated the barrel

pop – pop, it was empty for now

That night after drinking, snorting, popping, fucking, dancing, and laughing – she carved his name in the inside of her left wrist and the name of their unborn child in her right. She laid down.

sniff – gasp, “I loved you most.”



Italo Calvino said: The more enlightened our houses are, the more their walls ooze ghosts.

I’m sure that we would love to say that our lives have been all roses and champagne, but that is rarely the case. It takes struggle and pain to gain knowledge and wisdom. Very few are born with the ability to see a train wreck coming, they have to have seen one to know not to cross the tracks. The earth is littered with the bones of those who paid the price for others. Death has and will always be a toll paid to allow the living a chance to make a change. Some people are born to die an example, while others are born to be THE  exception. I don’t mean death literally in all instances, perhaps there is a figurative way to examine this topic as well. Experiences change people lives, they have the capability of changing a person mentally and emotionally, forever, thus rendering the person that you knew non-existent. I have seen unappreciated heroism sealed by death, suicide, drug abuse, physical abuse, sexual abuse, rape, unnecessary violence, sacrifice and sometimes I fear I may have learned nothing, or that it may be too late to turn back from the sins that are bound to catch me when I least expect it. I have buried more friends than I have walked down the aisle with. In my home we often speak of things as though the past is so distant, but in reality its always right behind you. We all think that if we turn our lives around, surely we will never face those demons again and maybe we won’t. All the more reason to pray that your children have good imaginations, teach them the lessons that you have learned and hopefully they won’t learn them the way that you did. 

Image credit: “love Don’t live here anymore…” – © 2009 Robb North – made available under Attribution 2.0 Generic


Laissé La Femme Se

“We lose more women to marriage than war, famine, and disease.” – Cruella De Vil

As a mother of three and a happily married wife – I still think this is true. Women are the most important component of life on earth. We are intelligent and resourceful, not to mention we have a high threshold for pain. We get married and we become second to ourselves, even if our partners put us first. It is our nature as nurturers. We then pour all of our best ideas and wealth of knowledge into our partners and children – in hopes that one day it will be a dream fulfilled. At this point, it is no longer our dream, idea, or knowledge. It is now passed on to be freely interpreted and carried out in a manner not of our own derivation. It is not ours anymore, we are then empty and we must start again in our finest hour. Although, in contrast, If you thought we were good then…come back in 20 years. Reinvention is the essence of our being – thank you, Madonna.