Everybody’s heard the phrase “chicken soup for the soul”, but life’s not all dandelions and daisies. Therefore, I’ll be starting a series of articles called “Chicken Salad for the Soul”. It’ll be a much more realistic take on life. I mean chicken salad is good, but it’s no chicken soup. It is what it is. It’s not great, but it’s not bad either. With that being said, let’s hit today’s mix of chicken salad. ​

Oh what we would all do to sit inside the rectangular house of waffles once more. Imagine cutting into your All-Star special while watching a fistfight outside illuminated by the nostalgic yellow Waffle House lights. Waffle House truly offered dinner and a show.

​What is it that makes Waffle House such a special place to be? Is it the pleasant aroma of breakfast food that dances around your nostrils as you enter? Maybe it is the fact that the menus are sticky, but not too sticky? It is hard to narrow down Waffle House's most redeeming quality, but one thing is for sure: Waffle House, we need you. We didn't realize what we had until it was gone. Where else can I feel so loved yet be so intimidated to use a public bathroom? 

Alright, let’s think about something cool real quick. I had the opportunity to ask my father a question that I think everyone who was born in the 60’s or 70’s should be asked. I looked him straight in the eyes and asked "when you were my age, did you think you would have a flying car by now?"​

Dear Mall Bench,

​As I write this, I am sitting on a bench at the mall. There are many simple pleasures in life, but one of the finest of them all is finding a bench to rest your weary legs after a long day of walking around and following someone else shop. 

Of course you always first look for the open chair inside the store that your significant other is adventuring in. Maybe it’s a chair for trying on shoes; maybe it’s an ottoman that you decide is now your recharging station.

Here is something to think about. What are some non-negotiables in your life? We all draw lines in the sand right? In this segment, I’d love to share one that I have and plan to stick with for the rest of my life. 

It’s that time of year again, folks: the time of year that Jason Pierre-Paul’s PTSD kicks in like Kangaroo Jack whoopin’ up on a fool that stole his sunglasses. The week of the 4th of July is extremely sentimental to our country, but is also a time where we often question the intelligence and logic of some of our countrymen by their use of fireworks.

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