This week's edition is about how life with a Labrador taught me to quiet my inner critic. Enjoy. This is Aubrey. He’s 13 years old, and he’s a lovely boy. In fact, he's the reason I'm not in an asylum for the insane. He’s pretty chilled these days, but
We pay a lot of attention to the big decisions in life: what to study, where to live, what to do for a living. Whether to marry, and to whom. To breed or not to breed. To stay in a job or leave for another.
I’ve spent a lot of time working with people on their platform skills: the physical and vocal stuff that helps people look good and sound good in front of an audience. But truth is, it's money for old rope. As illustrated in this brilliant piss-take of TED
You and I know that the best communicators make the complex clear, without dumbing it down. We appreciate it when someone takes a complicated idea and explains it in direct, simple language. But in business, we constantly see talented, well educated and highly paid people doing the
I'm going to level with you, <<First Name>>. I’ve got a habit I just can’t break. It’s a vice that decays the mind, numbs the soul and fills my heart with shame. It's not drink, drugs, gambling, or food. Even the call of Venus I can enjoy in perfect moderation. But
I’m grateful for a lot of things: My family’s health, as well as my own. Excellent friends, all over the world. A luxuriously thick head of hair. But despite my attempts at the whole Attitude-of-Gratitude thing, I regularly work myself into a tizzy over the stupidest of stupid stuff. And if I
2015 was gonna be the year. I was gonna be sober. I was gonna be thin. I was gonna be a better husband, father, human: and I was finally gonna write the book(s) I've been banging on about for, like, a decade. And then, as always, stupid life,
There are days when it all seems too much. Like when you wake up from a coma with no idea where you are or how you got there. You've got a raging desire for vengeance against your former employer, but first you have to slaughter two
More than once, the stuff that’s come out of my mouth has made people roll their eyes. Once, a posh person even called me “incorrigible.” But not in a cool, rakish, “Oh, David, the things you say . . . “ kind of way. It was more “For God’s sake,
Everyone reading this newsletter knows someone who got to the top by being (or in spite of being) a total jerk. If you don't know that person, you are that person. And people hate you. But you don't care. Because everywhere you look, you see more proof that money,
