Chapter 1: My Life's Guiding Principles

I navigate life guided by a distinct set of principles—a sort of personal philosophy that shapes my decision-making.

Does anyone actually weave a tapestry?

The answer remains a mystery.

When my alarm blares in the morning, I don't agonize over the choice to hit snooze; my guiding code eliminates that dilemma effortlessly.

See you in nine minutes, folks.

Dining out presents no challenge either. I don’t need to deliberate whether to order a burger or dessert; my philosophy makes that decision for me.

I’ll have both, thank you very much.

When a charity representative appears at my door, clipboard in hand and an overly enthusiastic demeanor, I feel no conflict.

I will engage, and I might share a few of my more colorful, albeit personal, remarks.

This approach saves time and helps me correct my course. I don’t waste my valuable moments on insignificant choices and avoid the guilt of being occasionally late or kind. Plus, my arteries can remain happily unclogged.

One steadfast rule I follow—so firmly etched in my mind it could be engraved on stone—is that I refuse to take advice from anyone lounging in their underwear.

You think I should boost my pension contributions? Fine, but first, put on some pants.

You believe I should be more vigilant while crossing the street?

Well, maybe if you weren’t exposing your chest, I’d be able to focus better.

On the flip side, I never offer anyone unsolicited advice unless I’m fully dressed myself. I could potentially find a compromise and wear a skirt, but societal expectations often deter me from doing so, which is unfortunate because my calves are rather impressive.

This guideline prevents me from reading a staggering 97% of the content on Medium, which is our little secret, isn’t it?

It’s more perplexing than any algorithm and more unfathomable than Tony’s refusal to promote anything humorous.

We’re all just lounging around in our underwear.

Isn’t it freeing to realize you’re not alone?

That writer who crafts the most enchanting and vivid fantasy tales, whisking you away to realms filled with gremlins and goblins?

Well, guess what? He’s in his boxers too.

And that captivating woman from a far-off South American locale, who eloquently narrates her family’s trials through poverty and oppression?

She’s likely sporting some snack crumbs.

This is precisely why I refuse to engage in writing self-help content.

Because, while I may indulge in laziness, greed, and a bit of unnecessary aggression towards charity solicitors, at least I don’t pretend to be something I’m not.

Chapter 2: A Warm Welcome

Hello there, and thanks for stopping by!

If you’ve enjoyed this piece—even if you haven’t—please consider following me and exploring my other stories for more entertaining content.

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