Tag Archives: shock

What happened next will blow your mind

I started writing this article, and you’ll never believe what happened next. What happened next was so shocking, I don’t even think it’s possible to explain what actually happened, not without totally blowing your mind and completely changing your entire outlook on life. Keep reading to find out exactly what happened, something you’d never expect, something totally unbelievable, and yet absolutely incredible. Incredible and heartwarming. And unexpected. Can you believe that your entire world is about to be shaken to the core?


Because what happened next will leave you speechless. You won’t be able to speak. It’ll wear off eventually, but in the meantime, it’s just going to be you and your thoughts, or whatever’s left of them. You’ll be sweeping up the fragmented remains of what you thought was your mind, because I’ll have shattered it, by writing this piece, and telling you all about what happened next.

You won’t believe what happened next. You’ll never believe it. Part of me wants to tell you to just get lost, to stop reading right now, to turn around and never come back. Because you can’t handle it. You probably can’t handle it. Most of you definitely won’t be able to handle it. Maybe a few of you will. I have a pretty good idea of who’s going to stick around and who’s going to take a hike. Will you be one of the few to keep reading? Keep reading to find out.

Find out if you have what it takes to keep reading. Just answer a few simple multiple choice questions to see if you’re the kind of person who commits to finishing something that you started, like reading this article. I took this fun and simple quiz and my result was: committed. “You are the type of person who doesn’t take no for an answer.” That’s what it told me. What’ll it say about you? It’s only like five or six questions. Just take the quiz.

Because the answers are going to shock you. My friend took an online quiz one time, and what happened next changed his life forever. He spent like ten or fifteen seconds clicking boxes on some quiz web site, and the results changed his outlook on humanity forever. Don’t believe in online quizzes? Yeah, I hear you. I used to think it was all a load of baloney. But then I tried one, and the course of my life was irrevocably altered. I haven’t looked back.

You shouldn’t look back either. Just keep going. Keep reading. And at the end, would you mind taking a brief survey to let me know how I’m doing? Just so I can better tailor my product based on the overall satisfaction of your experience. It’ll only take maybe two or three minutes, it’s another set of multiple choice questions.

And if you take the survey, which I’d really appreciate, I’ll say thanks. My way of saying thanks is automatically enrolling you in a drawing to win the opportunity to save big on select purchases with some of my online affiliate partners. Talk about a savings, talk about a great deal. You seriously can’t afford not to keep reading, to not take my online quiz and online survey, in fact, if your browser isn’t being automatically redirected within five seconds, just click refresh, just start reading again from the top.

And I can guarantee you that once you’re done, you won’t be the same person. One time my mother clicked on an ad to save big online, and what happened next will totally shock you. In a good way. Not like my grandmother. One time my grandmother clicked on an online ad, and what happened next will terrify you. It’s a terrifying story. Did you know that one in three online grandmothers are going to be susceptible to computer hacking and fraud during their lifetimes? Click here to run a free diagnostic of your computer. It’s like an online quiz, but for your PC. You’ll save big. Trust me. And after you’ve saved big, what happens after that is going to be totally awesome. Click here to read more.

Lick it

The other day I was messing around on my electric guitar when the distortion cut out. After a few minutes of troubleshooting, I figured out that the nine-volt battery powering my pedal must have finally died out. I collapsed, so totally defeated. In a split second, the universe had taken away from me everything that was going on at that very moment. I was sitting down, I was in my pajamas, I was strumming along to all of my favorite nineties alt-rock hits.

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And now, what, I’d have to get up? Brush my teeth? Walk to Rite Aid and buy another battery? Because even though I’m pretty sure that I didn’t have any spare nine-volt batteries lying around my house, even if I did have one hidden somewhere, there was absolutely no shot that I’d be able to narrow down where it might be, let alone commencing a search and then successfully finding it.

No, and I couldn’t sit around either. If I let this go, if I just put down my guitar and told myself that I’d do it later, then it would never happen. I’d lose all momentum, the buying of a nine-volt battery at Rite Aid would become one of those background chores to my life, something that would only pop up on my mental to-do list once in a while, very rarely, almost surely at sometime around three in the morning right before I’d drift off to sleep, oh yeah, I’d remember, the battery, maybe I’ll do that tomorrow.

It was either I got up and got dressed and went out and bought that battery right that second, or I might as well kiss my guitar playing goodbye. Well, my electric guitar playing anyway. I’m sure I’d still mess around with my acoustic, but it’s not the same, not always. Sometimes you want to play Tool covers, and on an acoustic, everything winds up coming out all Unplugged in New York.

So I did it, I surprised myself even, standing up, putting on a pair of pants, I couldn’t believe I was not only envisioning a plan of action, but I was well on my way to actually executing the steps necessary for me to step out of the house and get done what I needed to get done. I walked through the door of Rite Aid, everything was so much easier than I had made it out in my head when I was sitting there at my desk in my pajamas, it was like a two minute walk, and look, the batteries were right there.

I was worrying like I wouldn’t be able to find where the batteries were, that I’d have to walk up and down every aisle, maybe one of the workers would see me wandering around clueless, they’d ask me, “Do you need any help? Are you OK?” and I’d be like, “Uh … batt … batteries? I need uh … a nine-volt? Nine-volt battery?” regretting immediately my jumbled choice of words. Why couldn’t I just ask for the batteries? Why did I have to get way too specific in my nine-volt request? Was I expecting the worker to not only lead me to the battery section, but to come back to my house and show me how to replace the old one?

No, the batteries were right there, I didn’t have to continue imagining how awkward any of those situations might get. And yeah, the nine-volt batteries only came in a two-pack, but whatever, ten bucks, sure, that’s not too expensive. I didn’t even spend ten dollars on lunch. Even though I didn’t really need two nine-volt batteries, There wasn’t much of an option. It was buy two or buy zero, and I couldn’t very well buy zero batteries, not after having already accomplished so much. Returning home empty handed, no way, it would have scarred me, I could envision a future scenario, me just about to head out the door for some small errand, I’d think back to the zero battery Rite Aid trip of February 2014 and I’d retreat, never mind, I could tell myself, I don’t need to leave the house.

I made it home, I took out the old battery and put in the new one. It was great. Except, now I had this extra nine-volt battery hanging out on my desk, the surplus from the two-pack. Should I put it away somewhere? I thought, wherever I decide to store this battery, there’s absolutely no way I’m going to be able to find it, years from now, the next time this distortion pedal on my guitar runs out of juice. But I can’t just keep it here, collecting dust. There’s too much temptation.

I can’t stop thinking about licking it. You ever do that when you were a little kid, lick the end of a nine-volt battery? I don’t know why, I guess it has something to do with science, but you get a shock on your tongue. The thing is, I haven’t actually licked a nine-volt battery in years. I’m pretty sure it was decades, probably like twenty years ago. I don’t remember what that shock felt like. Did it hurt? Was my tongue buzzing for the rest of the day?

The next thing I know I was holding the spare nine-volt in my hands, just inches away from my face. I stuck out my tongue, thought about what I’d need to actually do, like what muscles I’d need to move to make my idea a reality. But I couldn’t do it. There was something inside of me, a fear? Was I afraid? I was. I could feel it. I resolved to do it, I’d lick the battery right there, I’d get past my fear of a little tongue shock.

But I couldn’t do it. No matter how hard I tried, there was some sort of a force, a barrier of fear preventing me from jerking my hand the two inches necessary to complete the circuit with my tongue sticking out of my mouth. I started freaking out. What’s happening to me? First, I’m a little kid and I’m doing whatever I want. The next thing I know, I’m a grown man, I’m almost thirty years old, and I’m too scared to lick the end of nine-volt battery. What’s next? Am I going to all of the sudden lose confidence in my bike riding skills? What other abilities is the crippling fear of life going to rob from me next?

But then I thought, wait a second, this would a pretty funny picture, the battery, my tongue. So I took a selfie on my phone and put in on Facebook and Instagram with the caption, “I’ll do it. I swear to God, I’ll do it.” And it was pretty successful, you know, in terms of social networking. I got like twelve likes. And look at this, it wasn’t even noon and I was already out of my pajamas, basically fully dressed. Talk about carpe diem, this day had officially been seized.

Still, that battery is right here on the desk, right as I’m typing this. And I’ve mostly put it out of my head. But every once in a while it’ll pop out of the background and talk to me, “Come on Rob. Give me a lick. Don’t be such a little pantywaist. Lick me.” And I can’t. I just can’t do it.