If You Lack Attention to Detail, Don’t Read This

I make mistakes. When I do, they give me the squirms. Even the smallest misstep haunts me. I may, at times, be too hard on myself. If you, on the other hand, have ever justified a lack of attention to detail with the phrase, “Hey, we’re not doing brain surgery here, relax!”, I want you to immediately stop reading this and put a staple in your tongue.

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My TOP 10 Dog Inspired Crucial Life Lessons

When it comes to dogs, there are two things I have never been: a “dog person”, and shy about sharing my disdain for them and their owners. I know! It’s ridicule that is unfounded, uninformed and unfair. I’ve never owned a dog. But, it only takes one nippy, yappy, smelly, slobbery pooch to swell my ignorance. It also only takes the stench of one deviant un-scooped doggy swirl on the bottom of my shoe to radiate my fanatical furor into a sweeping criticism of all of their cult-like masters. That is, until I spent a month with Hunter. After even just a few days living with this Border Terrier, I discovered my inner dog person, and what I learned is crucial to your success at work and at home.

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When It’s Good Business to Be Upstaged: 3D Tech

For Cash Cab fans and contestants alike, people are thrilled when they get a chance to meet me… so they can ask about the lights inside the cab. The disco-floor-like ceiling panels are, by far, the sexiest part of the show for many people. Fortunately, as a proud “Host”, it wasn’t difficult for me to get used to being upstaged by high tech. That’s why I’m excited to be working with 3DEvolution on 3D tech that’s ahead of the curve and attracting more attention than I ever will in any dimension.

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Worst Job in the World: Dream On

There’s almost nothing less interesting to me than hearing someone talk about his or her dreams. Aside from listening to them read their tax return, or analyze their playoff draft picks, which are… nope; I’d prefer to hear them talk about those things before struggling to stay awake as they attempt to describe their “crazy” dream. That’s why being a therapist who specializes in dream interpretation in clinical psychology has got to be one of the worst jobs in the world.

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Please Excuse My “Man Brain”

My “Man Brain” and I get into enough trouble on our own as it is; we don’t need any assistance with digging ourselves deeper into any holes of disapproval, thank you very much. Yet, at a recent Brunch with friends, I found myself in the glaring spotlight of unpopularity with the Momttendance because of a comment about a younger woman. Even worse, the “I just don’t understand the ‘Man Brain’ sometimes” comment about me came from a woman whom I had just met! But, what was worse than the even worse, was the comment that got me into trouble wasn’t even made by me- it was uttered by my WIFE!

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Cool Beans

If my calculations are correct, it will be anywhere from 3 months to 6.25 years before at least one of my kids realizes just how cool I actually am. That approximates the window of time between which my oldest child and youngest child graduate from high school. I’ve based this estimation on the scientific evidence I observed in how the perception I had of MY parents changed upon embarking for a post secondary education. I figure, despite how complex and wildly unpredictable the teenage brain is, there are certain consistencies to the human experience that are reliable in determining when your kids become aware of your true swagger.

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Let’s Talk

As an entertainer, with a background in stand-up comedy, radio, television and performing live on-stage at various events, you might be surprised to hear that I consider myself an Introvert. It wasn’t until I had a discussion with my father years ago that it became clear that we’re BOTH Introverts. He a retired doctor of medicine; me a comedian; both cut from the same cloth, indeed. Not only did I now have an enlightened view of my own persona, but it helped solve an ongoing mystery in my relationship with my wife, who is most definitely an Extrovert.

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March Break Confession

Some memories of my college years are, well, a bit fuzzy. What I remember in vivid detail, however, are the holidays of my first year away at University living in college residence. Attending U of T from Vancouver, I was one of just a handful of students in an entire building who didn’t go back home for Thanksgiving, Christmas or March Break. As a result, the halls of the dorms were unusually quiet at these times. Not in an eerie way, like when reading, “The Shining”, by Stephen King alone in a hotel-like environment, (not recommended). Instead, the distinct serenity of being left behind in residence was liberating. I felt that I had free-run of the space that was otherwise congested with the jocularity, antics and frenetic energy of day-to-day living in close quarters with dozens of other dudes. Reflecting back as a working parent now, I’m astonished that I could open my door, step into the hallway and say my biggest secrets aloud without any repercussions.

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Parenting Donald Trump

I’m watching Season 4 of “House of Cards” on Netflix and while the first several episodes were riveting, the second half of the season is proving to be less entertaining than the real-life political landscape that is Donald Trump. I still stand by my original post on Jan. 21, 2016, “Donald Trump Does Not Give A Sh*t”, prophesizing that his bid for the Republican presidential nomination is a prank of epic proportions. In this post, I’m just suggesting we start planning now on how to manage him when he becomes U.S. president. I believe the best solution is to parent him like he’s an unruly teenager.

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