When you get what you want in your struggle for self,
And the world makes you King for a day,
Then go to the mirror and look at yourself,
And see what that guy has to say.
For it isn't your Father, or Mother, or Wife,
Who judgement upon you must pass.
The feller whose verdict counts most in your life
Is the guy staring back from the glass.
He's the feller to please, never mind all the rest,
For he's with you clear up to the end,
And you've passed your most dangerous, difficult test
If the guy in the glass is your friend.
You may be like Jack Horner and "chisel" a plum,
And think you're a wonderful guy,
But the man in the glass says you're only a bum
If you can't look him straight in the eye.
You can fool the whole world down the pathway of years,
And get pats on the back as you pass,
But your final reward will be heartaches and tears
If you've cheated the guy in the glass.
myself, tomorrow. because i know today is a good day.
the five young boys who magically are able to play flipped over five gallon buckets like drums at every sporting event simultaneously.
snuff films.
i wish they would make a reality television show of people sitting and watching reality tv, and whoever gets up last wins.
"one million ways to make PB&J," by some dickface.
dad, mom, jason, jamie, jake, steve, adam, nick, kim.
and the guy who wrote that song "there was a farmer who had a dog, and bingo was his name oh, B-I-N-G-O....and bingo was his name oh." he must have been one clever mother effer.