Hello! Welcome to the hockey table. Grab a paddle and let’s play massacre the puck. I have used so many cliché’s as titles for blog sites. Usually something along the lines as, Me, Myself, and My Bipolar Brain. While I was setting up this new blog, I was going through the traditional pictures when I came across this hockey table.
It was an item that I bought in hopes of landing my big break through Ebay. You know, buy some crap from the goodwill store and then try to sell it for 3 times the amount you paid. Well, as it turns out I am as good a salesman on Ebay as I am at crapping gold bricks. Nada, nothing, zilch, the big O. I now have $46 dollars worth of “crap” taking up space in my living room. Oh yah, the train sets, the ones that were supposed to pay off big, yah, they don’t work.
Back to the hockey table and my brain the puck. You see, in the picture, it is a lovely scene. Two paddles waiting for their turn at hitting the puck. In reality, it is really the middle of the game. You just can’t see all the nicks in the puck or the scratches on the playing surface. You only see what your brain wants you to see.
If you were to meet me and look at my outer appearance, you would see a normal looking puck. You wouldn’t see the years of wear and tear. You wouldn’t see all the scratches and the dents and dings. You only see what your brain wants you to see.