...needless shopping, tipsy chatter...
...the sweaty marathon, and the relaxing first class cabin experience...but I have yet to experience the infamous ... the glorious ... the hailed airport lounge!

It's a Bird! No, It's a Plane! .... No, It's some guy running around Adland trying to get his foot in the door! Dun Dun Da! ADventure Lad is here! Using his keen powers of networking, hightened senses of value and pulling from his life's adventures, ADventure Lad enters the AD STORM ready for any challenge!
...needless shopping, tipsy chatter...
...the sweaty marathon, and the relaxing first class cabin experience...but I have yet to experience the infamous ... the glorious ... the hailed airport lounge!

"omg, like totally awesome _______(insert normal sentence here)______."It also has its perks when we begin to hint of the various forms of sweet treats we all grew up with, obviously among some other perks here and there. However, the most difficult is the limits placed on really being able to start a life.
"There is no doubt, this young man has fought to make a life for himself here, however he has no family ties keeping him here, only a social circle at best, and a career which is not limited to the shores of England."
"I'm here today to plead my case that after studying and working, I simply want to be here in London, apart of everything."
Location:W 55th St,New York,United States
“I stand looking. There is a mist at the end of the meadow, and a fine, tiny curl of steam rising from my coffee. This is the moment I want to be in. …Sometimes there is just the wind, shifting the dry stalks of the grasses, moving the last leaves in the woods. I breathe in the cool, damp air. Everything is poised. The day is about to begin.”
Post-School Drop Off – Rebecca Barry, Author of Later, at the Bar
“My nap is a forceful, accomplished lover, for whom I have bought, over the years, a few appreciative tokens (a mammoth couch, an indestructible blanket). I submit; I wallow, I revel in what’s coming. When this hour rolls around, I put down my work and open my arms to Hypnos, and his handsome sons, Morpheus and Phantasus – not ones to say no to a nap.”6pm – Geraldine Brooks, Author of March and People of the Book
“I love the moment when we all pull up out chairs and sit down to dinner. Most nights, if it’s just the five of us, we are around the kitchen table. So there are a few minutes of transition between the flurry at the stove to the clatter of tableware and the passage of dishes across the room. Then we all take a deep breath.”
Saturday on Labor Day weekend in New York City can mean a lot to many people. For me I had date with someone I've been neglecting of late ... myself.
It might have been as simple as a shirtless man in jeans with a piece of wood hanging around his shoulders surrounded by people, but for us all it was the best interruption from a midday stroll through the park, for he made people feel welcome and most of all, no matter the length of time it lasted, we all felt apart of something.Every now and then a chain email comes along, despite how many times you make it clear to your family and friends you HATE them! In this case, a long chain letter came to my sister in what seemed it's most primal form (meaning only being sent a few times, rather than to the entire www, due to wild formatting!). Nevertheless she read them aloud as I began to make us Wild Berry Mojitios on the most humid day in CT. I soon realized I had begin to 100% totally relate to the content she was sharing.
I decided I would man up and admit when I am wrong, and that from time to time (and I literally mean, from TIME to TIME) mass emails can connect to you, or at least to me.
I can talk to as many friends, peers, and strangers about certain topics, but every now and then, the things you don't say, but think about every two days or so, make it to a mass email by someone else!
I would like to acknowledge, from what I assume is the author a Mr. Luke Grilli (please comment on this post if this all came from you) for his additions to the twitter/blogo/facebook/txt-o-sphere!
(I have bolded and italicized my own tiny tweaks to the few thoughts I personally related to)
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More often than not, when someone is telling me a story all I can think about is that I can’t wait for them to finish so that I can tell my own story that’s not only better, but also more directly involves me.
Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.
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 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 sidewalk.
I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger.
Do you remember when you were a kid, playing Nintendo and it wouldn't work? You take the cartridge out, blow in it and that would magically fix the problem. Every kid in America 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.
There is a great need for sarcasm font.
I would rather try to carry 10 plastic grocery bags in each hand than take 2 trips to bring my groceries in, but the gym frustrates me.
Was learning cursive really necessary?
What would happen if you hired two private investigators to follow each other?
While driving yesterday I saw a banana peel in the road and instinctively swerved to avoid it...thanks Mario Kart.
Bad decisions make good stories.
I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten page research paper that I swear I did not make any changes to.
I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello? Damnit!), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to voicemail. What'd you do after I didn't answer? Drop the phone and run away?
Sometimes I'll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and still not know what time it is.
I wonder if cops ever get pissed off at the fact that everyone they drive behind obeys the speed limit? I’d like to see a cop car hiding in the branches on the Merit Parkway, so when I get pulled over, my gut feeling of denial, hatred and depression is overcome by, HOLY CRAP THAT WAS AWESOME!
Ok so its 1809....No Wait it's 1609! A few years back I began keeping a 