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I hated my football coaches. All of them.

  • I hated my football coaches. All of them. They were losers. Well, we lost every game, but they took no ownership in the losses. Every single one of them blamed us.
  • I didnt mind my life coaches, but then again, I lost my girlfriend, my dog and my job. They didn't take ownership over those losses either.
  • Sometimes I wonder about my expectations of people who are paid to tell me to get a grip. Their lives are bigger messes than mine: that's the definition of a Life Coach
  • , someone who's made all the mistakes and can tell you about them. My Life Coach, who was a recovering alcoholic, drug abuser, chauvinist pig, racist, was telling me about the time
  • when he wasn't such a jerk and the lessons he'd learned when all at once it occurred to me... This guy, this "Life Coach" is totally bullsh*tting me. Two could play at that game,
  • I stated my own "Wealth Management Life Coaching Cult" called The Order of the WMLCC for short. I published self-help books and ran expensive weekend retreat courses preaching my
  • wealth management to financially distressed middle-classers for a steep fee, while coaching their lives towards more life coaching classes. My personal wealth and life improved
  • At their expense and I morphed into a brown mouse named Sigge. I made up a story about my life and they seemed satisfied having me in their fold. Safety in numbers, they say...
  • Yet that seemed to become irrelevant as soon as the neighborhood barn cat stumbled upon our little gathering. In a fit of rage, the feline began to swat mice aside, before
  • one of the members of the cult grabbed it roughly by the scruff and clamped it's mouth shut. "Monty!" she exclaimed. "Remember what I told you; no interrupting our sacrifices!"

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