jabberwoCKY

@ckyonwords.bsky.social

Independent Copywriter + Creative Director. From St. Louis, now in Minneapolis. Domestically supplied infant. Deeply flawed biped. Aspiring human. Probably doing a bit. he/him/his Portfolio: charleskyouel.com

Yesterday I ran into someone who last saw me a few years back at a point in my life when I was, to put it euphemistically, not in the best of places in any sense, and they did not recognize me at all. Which truth be told is a compliment that I’ll be riding the high of for a good long while.

In my late 20s, I made a conscious decision to think of work not as the thing that gives my life purpose and meaning, but as something I do in order to pursue the things that give my life purpose and meaning. But I still want work to have purpose and meaning, which is occasionally crazy-making.

Hey, team. So I awoke this morning from uneasy dreams to find myself transformed into a gigantic insect. Crazy, right? Probably something the kids picked up at daycare. Anyway, I’m gonna be WFH today. Also, I’ll be off-camera for meetings. Should be back in the office tomorrow!

It was good to feel sorta kinda fast today, however briefly. Like my legs had something to prove. Biking means something different to me now, something I’m still trying to understand, to figure out. But it still makes me happy. It always will.

Seems like the people who delight in provocation and shit-talking the most also have the thinnest of skins when it blows up in their faces. They’ll book that ticket on the Fuck Around Express every time, and are somehow always shocked when it inevitably arrives in Find Out Junction.

10 year old me would be profoundly disappointed to hear present day me tell him that sometimes the things that don’t come easily or quickly turn out to mean that much more once you’ve reached them. You know what they really cost, and you don’t take them for granted.

Liking every single Lynx post I come across today because it’s a good day to remind myself that we have (a) a dominant basketball squad coached by (b) a true force of nature and that all of them (c) know how to take care of business on and off the court.

I like to make food for people. I’m far from a foodie and not especially brilliant as a chef. I just like to cook, and for people to enjoy what I make. It’s always a gift when someone does.

I was riding my bike in front of an ice cream truck playing “She'll Be Coming 'Round the Mountain” and if that ice cream truck got behind the peloton at the start of the Tour de France the riders would wrap the whole thing up in a week. Of course, they’d all be clinically insane, but still.

Sing, o muse, of the raging legions of nattering nincompoops frothing rabidly at their keyboards over whatever this week’s transgression is, crying out for merciless vengeance from the depths of their mothers’ basements.

My favorite part of traveling in Sweden was watching the expressions on people’s faces go from amused pity to concerned disbelief to shocked incomprehension to abject horror as we talked about the amount of paid vacation time we got through our jobs.

Every cyclist who’s shared roads and streets with cars has experienced enraged drivers weaponizing their vehicles at the slightest inconvenience or perceived provocation. This is regularly how it ends, and it’s only deemed newsworthy when a public figure is involved. share.google/il3Kjq3yWaSq...

Rising boxer Hannah Rapp killed in Texas after police say driver accelerated in reverse and struck her bicycle

Charles Medina, 31, was charged with manslaughter after Brazos County authorities say he stopped his car, reversed and struck the 26-year-old Rapp.

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Dazzled by our own perceived brilliance and conquest of the natural world, humans have developed a strain of arrogance that blinds us to the simple fact that we need this planet a lot more than it needs us. If we persist in fighting it like an enemy to be defeated, all of our lives will be lost.

I spent so much of my life coveting and being jealous of the ways that other people’s minds seemed to work before finally embracing, beginning to understand and loving the way mine does.

If you ask someone who bought a $500 pair of socks how they like the $500 socks, they’ll tell you that they’re unbelievably, luxuriously comfortable, like walking on clouds really, even as they grimace with every step, their faces frozen in a grim rictus of pain. This is not about $500 socks.

The exasperation with being asked to view voting as traveling on a bus that moves you somewhat closer to where you want to be is understandable in an era when anyone with enough money gets their own chauffeurs all too eager to take them anywhere they want at a moment’s notice.

Extremist hatred never moderates itself organically. It intensifies in direct proportion to tolerance and acceptance, and doesn’t stop until it’s met with meaningful consequences.