No not Victoria's Secret, that delightful self-help book. The secret is that there is no secret and I don't understand how someone could read that book and not feel cultish, weird, and a bit dirty. But that's just because I have a negative outlook and bring it to that book or so the story might go.
I actually think there is something to having a positive outlook on life, rather than dwelling on the negative, but unfortunately thinking positively about things doesn't actually make them happen. For the privileged folk spewing the fecal matter in this fine piece of print, I suppose this works. Or maybe one day they awaken in their vapid wasteland of a life.
But hey, I'm actually a relatively positive guy or positively a relative guy, I always get those confused. Take today, where I put on my shirt before my pants for about the first time ever and the result was such that I'd tucked only the back of my shirt into my waistband (when really none of it should have been tucked), and meanwhile my fly wasn't done up. Did I freak out? No, I took it in stride, laughed to myself and apologized to the large group of schoolchildren that had to witness it all.
Even with my fly down, my secret wasn't revealed.
Until next time internet, you stay data rich.
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