How bout chur BOY! Back-to-back Movesletters regarding flying. Lot of Moves up there, what can I say?

This Move is brought to you by Hayden O., and I swear to god, bro must’ve read my mind because I was 1000% thinking about this last weekend.

Was 30,000 in the air, flying back to the worst airport in the United States, possibly the world. To my delight, I had the World Cup and Stanley Cup going. 30 minutes of Ivory Coast/Ecuador, followed by Jordan Staal hoisting the cup. Was great man. Time flew by. A late Ivory Coast goal, complete Canes domination, next thing you know I’m over Nevada and bringing in Spotify to close out the flight.

It was a casual watch. Falling in and out of a light slumber. Eyes popping open after an eccentric call from the announcer. Lil’ game, lil’ snooze, beautiful. Definitely Could Be The Move.

Now, if I were heavily invested in the outcome… feel like this Move would be a disaster.

If I’m in economy watching the Caps try to close out the Cup in 6, I’d be a straight mess. Absolute panic every time we lose connection. Trying to hold it together. Freak out after they let in a weak goal. Joining the No Fly List thanks to a violent reaction to a weak offensive zone penalty.

I fly American a lot, and know they have RedZone during their flights. There have been multiple occasions where I book a flight knowing I’ll be able to dial in a little Scott Hanson for 4+ hours. It’s beautiful. Every flight feels like a chip shot.

Legit, the only con I can think of is a monetary one. High in the air, enjoying the third round of The Masters. Jim Nantz’s soothing voice and flush 7-irons from your noise-cancelling headphones, oh my. “Might as well go all in,” you say to yourself. Two Heinekens, a snack box and $54 later.

Mmmh…

Shit, if spending $54 for that extra level of comfort on a cross-country flight is the biggest flaw I can find… Hell of a Move.

Book a Flight During a Major Sporting Event. Could Be The Move.

- Bobby D

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More writing on another account I’ve been working on called A1JonSnow: Instagram, Newsletter/Website

CBTM Merch: Here

I also brainstormed this Move during a solo podcast. If you want to hear me ramble, check it out: CBTM Podcast

- Bobby D

Lil’ double closeout. You like that shit? Could Be The Move honestly.

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I’ve completely checked out of the last, I’d say, 85 pre-flight safety briefings.

It was a slow bleed.

When I first started flying, I was locked in. Young, scared, impressed that the seat cushions could float. Then, after I survived my first 20+ flights, I started tuning in because I thought it was the right thing to do. Got someone in front of you doing the whole song and dance for your safety and well-being… figured this demonstration was worth at least 65% of my attention. Then it turned into 50%, 40%, 20%. Now, when I hunker down by the window or when my row-mates arrive and I close off the aisle or middle (hopefully not), I throw on the headphones and completely check out. Start pumping my flying playlist, scrolling through a list of movies, see what’s cooking on live TV. No occasional glance, no smiles, no nods. Just a guy consumed by entertainment or the back of his eyelids.

Might start showing respect again like Brian B here. Why? I don’t know man, just because. No… that’s not good enough. Why? I don’t know man, maybe because this angel of a person is actively trying to prepare me for a complete disaster of a situation.

American Airlines sent me this group of angels and what do I do? Drown out their instructions with The Postal Service and Kid A?

Might go back to watching, taking it in. No headphones, phone tucked away. 87% of my attention. Give it a ranking afterwards. Notes app filled with dates, airlines, a 9.2, 7.8, 8.3, so on and so forth.

Dad picks you up from the airport. “How was the flight?” “Solid. 9.1 safety briefing, so that was a W… Yeah… Dude was really bringing it.”

Brian B’s going for camaraderie, which I get and respect. “23D’s locked in over there… make sure he gets an extra bag of SunChips.”

Not me man. I’m doing it for the love of the game.

My sweet angels.

- Bobby D

Even with the advances average cake has made, I still prefer a different dessert on my special day. Company I work for has been tossing in some birthday donuts and Crumbl Cookies lately. I like Crumbl and love donuts, but feel like we might be overdoing it.

Then I started thinking, why not go the savory route? Just roll up with a big ol’ tomahawk, ribeye, New York strip, couple filets? How about a massive bowl of pasta or a big order of Olive Garden breadsticks? Hell, I’d be pumped for some elite jerky! Everyone gets a sliver. Help everyone in the office hit their macros. No guilt going back for seconds. Getting pumped just thinking about it!

Would also prevent waste. I mean, the amount of leftover cake I’ve seen at birthday parties… sad. Nobody’s letting that tomahawk go to waste, I tell you that much.

Feel like I’m on to something here.

What about this… if it’s an office birthday celebration, you know, the whole, gather the team together, huddle around the birthday guy/girl’s desk, sing happy birthday. What if the crew rolls up with nothing. The “to yoouuu” fades, little applause. Then the boss goes, “Take an hour, go drink two beers. Steve will drive you.” Steve’s your boy and gives you a thumbs-up.

Maybe this Move is just taking a deeper look at the endless possibilities and things you could receive for your birthday in an office setting. Either way, on the clock Guinness and Irish nachos sounds unreal good.

This DM from Nick K. is in reference to last week’s Movesletter. Fucking beautiful man.

We dropped a video that was inspired by a previous Movesletter, “Practice Something Else Besides Your Golf Swing.” Shoutout Strider for the Move and jumpin’ in the video. Legit one of the funniest guys I’ve ever met.

That’s it for this week. Preciate you guys sending in Moves. Til’ next week.

Also, I started a new channel called A1JonSnow. More writing about dumb shit. Hoping to make more videos on the channel as well: Instagram, Substack

Move via: @bsykesm4

Somewhere along the line, I stopped fighting the ocean. Maturity? Soft? Got tired of taking L’s? That Ocean never stops man. Keeps coming over and over and over and over, cut to that Marshawn Lynch sound bite.

Need a rematch; another shot at the title. 15 rounds at 200.

Talk about blowing off some steam. Seriously, think about it. Imagine that flood of dopamine after a split-decision loss to the Pacific as a grown adult. Cardio, the refreshing feel of salt water engulfing your body, absorbing the sun’s cozy rays, getting lost in the process of visually reading each wave. “Sounds like surfing man!” Yeah, but it’s missing that final piece. That channel of rage shifting from body to mind: haymaker, dropkick, Stunner, People’s Elbow, Sweet Chin Music. Holy therapy.

Why did I ever stop? Back then, my irritable levels were at an all-time low. Only thing that pissed me off was that balloon level in Super Mario World. Now I write essays about how much I hate e-bikes like the washed, joyful guy I once was. What changed? Was it the effects of old man time leaning on my patience and tolerance for accepting change? Or was it because I stopped fighting the ocean, stopped acting like my whiffle-ball home run was to win the World Series? I gotta loosen up man. Bout to throw a baseball card in the spokes, ride to the beach and beat the shit out of the ocean. I’ll be back in no time.

Here’s Klark’s opinion on last week's Movesletter. Couldn’t agree more Klark… Couldn’t agree more.

Thanks for tuning in guys. We’ll talk next week. 🐐🐐🐐

- Bobby D

Other account I’m messing around with: A1JonSnow

Merch: Here

The boys at work won’t stop with this small spoon Move. Gavin (Dr. Locks) sent this over a while ago and swears by it. He sent over a video of him munching down some Breyers with a sample spoon he swiped from some gelato shop.

I dig the Move. It brought my friend joy and any harmless Move that brings a human being that much joy should at least garner some level of respect. I went the opposite route and decided to troll him. Called it Chop. He defended it. Brought in someone else. Someone else backed it. I said I was messing around. He then continued to gas up the Move.

Couple months later, Someone Else, Zach (Glue Guy), sent over a picture of a little spoon sitting atop a lil’ Trader Joe’s French Vanilla. “Little spoon at home. CBTM.” Not sure if he was aware that Gavin incepted the Move into his brain, but either way, he was pumped.

Saw him the next day, “How bout that spoon Move!” I went with the same route as I did with Gavin and went full troll. He defended fiercely. Then he brought in Gavin for another opinion. Same song and dance.

“It feels like you’re eating more, but you’re not.” That was the main pro that was continuously brought up during the Move discussion. Kind of surprising really. Thought the boys would get scientific on me, “Less steel contact and more ice-cream!” Or maybe go the hubris route, “The small spoon makes you feel big and mighty!” Being overly performative is in right now, could try that out… “Looks classy as shit pulling out one of these bad boys.”

No bullshit, no bits, these guys went to great emotional lengths to defend this Move from a guy who was in complete troll mode and the best they could come up with was, “It feels like you’re eating more, but you’re not.” God I love that. I’m in.

- Bobby D

More writing on a new account I started: A1JonSnow - Instagram

CBTM Merch - Here

Read an essay the other day about the 1960s art scene. Pop art: Andy Warhol, Jasper Johns, Roy Lichtenstein, celebrities, consumerism, bright colors, so on and so forth.

Tom Wolfe, the author of this bad boy, went into detail about how Bob Scull and his wife Ethel became two of the most prominent collectors of that era. They gobbled up tons of art from young artists and flipped them for 100-1,000 times their original value. After building their wealth, they moved on to commissioning art. Bob and Ethel wanted to discover artists before their work hit the galleries. At the time, this Move was kind of groundbreaking. Instead of spending an exorbitant amount of money on a well-established artist, they went under the radar, found unknown artists, paid them to make something, hoped they blew up and raked in the money. Their method was heavily criticized, and yeah, I don’t condone the lengths they went to for a quick buck, but I will say… dialing in a little commission work from an unknown artist sounds kind of sick.

Now, Tom Wolfe's an incredible writer, and the way he dissects art in the 60s had me itchin' to peep the current scene. Dip a toe in ya know. Maybe invest in some up-and-coming artist, buy a bunch of stuff, watch it explode or diminish in value over time. Like I said, I dig the idea of it. Will I move forward and take the next step towards this pipe dream? Probably not. I'm not in a place financially where I can justify spending $5,000 on some trippy, droopy face, paint-splatter that looks like Radiohead's
“National Anthem.” Which, in turn, means I'm not even close to a place where I can commission an artist to make something that looks more like Pink Floyd's “Breathe.” I will say though, Bob and Ethel's story got me thinking... what if I just pay a buddy to make me something?

"Yo. I'll give you $100 to make me something sweet. Here's the paint, here's the canvas. Do your thing." Doesn't even have to be someone who's artistic either. Or hell, doesn't have to be just one person. Invite a bunch of people over. "Yo. We're doing a little commission artwork at my place. Beer and food is free. Just need you guys to help out with a painting." Now you have 5 to 6 to 10 collaborating on this piece. Everyone scribbling their names at the bottom. Chills.

Maybe it's cool, maybe it's shit, but that's the thing with art: after its creation, it stands still in time. Maybe you pass it down from generation to generation. Every time you look at it, it reminds you of all the friends you once had. What changed? Well, you got a new job, been working more, got peer-pressured to play in a slow-pitch softball league with a bunch of co-workers you don't even like. Stopped going out, group text dried up. Maybe that piece of art will bring you back, remind you of the good times you once had with the people you love. Motivates you to put in a little extra effort into friendship. Dial in a Game 7 with some wings, beer and a side of reminisce. I don't know man. Think it could be fun. Commission Your Buddy (Buddies) for Art. Could Be The Move.

- Bobby D

See you guys next week!

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I like golf... decent sport. Used to like it a lot more before Covid hit. Now it's way more expensive and takes 50% longer to play. I tell ya, these god damn courses just PACK the fucking place. *Sigh*…. I digress.

The game's a grind man. Will chew you up and spit you out. The highs are high and the lows are low. There are also these weird spurts of delusional optimism that occur during the golfing journey. The game can quickly turn you into a believer. It's one of the few sports where I'd say 95% of its participants fully believe they’re only one minor change away from being absolutely dialed. I'm not talking about a, "This new takeaway might help me drop a stroke or two!" belief. I'm talking, "This new takeaway might get me to scratch by next month!" belief. (Meanwhile scratch players start looking up US Open qualifier spots.)

We’re all convinced the only thing that stands between us and a Rory three-peat is a slight tweak at the top of our backswing. (Ok maybe not that delusional, but you get me.) It’s why you catch all the grinders working on something. They’re at the water cooler, in the coffee shop, mid-convo. Gotta get the work in where you can. Out here cementing that green jacket feel.

With all that being said about the great, sometimes great, fuck this game game of golf, I’d like to see other sports get more representation in the world of invisible reps. Let’s put down the imaginary golf club and pick up an imaginary goalie stick. Show off your kick saves, your poke checks, flash a little leather. How about a jam at the line of scrimmage or a little kick step for the boys. Pick off moves, bunts, ABS challenges. Let’s expand our repertoire. Let’s be athletes. Practice Something Else Besides Your Golf Swing. Could Be The Move

Had a couple people reply with some Moves last week, figured I’d cover them here.

We got Troy from Tennessee (not sure where Troy’s from, just felt right), who’s bringing back the lost art of sending funny emails. In his reply to the Movesletter, Troy made a great point. When’s the last time you received a funny email from someone? Get a big ole email chain going: talk shit, tell jokes, send memes, all while looking like you’re working. Lost art, big ups to Troy for respecting this classic play.

How bout our guy Will. Will reads the Movesletter between sets at the gym. Fuckin’ gritty. Respect. Will had a situation where, after handing his ID to the bouncer, the guy manning the door called him out on his height. “You’re not 5’11.” Will had a girl with him and everything! Will was asking if I consider this Move Chop or not. Knee-jerk for me is Chop, but… I’ll extend an olive branch. Maybe the bouncer was looking to make a fun, playful joke and it just didn’t land? Or hell, let’s go the other route, maybe dude was looking to show Will up and straight steal his girl. Without knowing the exact tone, body language, or vibe that was present, it’s tough to definitively push the chips all in as Chop. But, based on the information presented… gimme Chop.

- Bobby D

More writing on a new account I started:

A1JonSnow - Instagram, Substack

Been marinating on this Move for 2 years now, shoutout jbev0503. Broke it down with the boys on Pod #181 and it still lives in my head rent-free. Shit stuck with me man. Sign of a great Move they say.

At first it threw me for a loop. Almost gave it an immediate knee-jerk Chop. Then it grew on me. Now, after letting it tumble around in my brain for 1 year, 10 months and 13 days. I'm ready to sit with it, dive a little deeper, give it my full analysis.

Lot of great road trip Moves out there. Some of my favorites include:

-"Rocking a jersey for a road trip." Just puts you in higher spirits.

- "If there are two cars on the road trip, bring some Walkie Talkies." Little fun back and forth banter.

- "Within the first 15 minutes of a road trip, drop, 'We're making great time!’” Gives the squad a little extra pep.

The cherries Move though... Sure, it's out there, it's different, it's gonna turn some heads, might offend some people. Why I dig it honestly. It's a flashy Move that could pay some serious vibe dividends.

Let the record show, I'm not talking about some Shirley Temple or Manhattan cherries. I'm talking about some early June Farmer's Market bad boys. Scoop some honey, an empanada and a bag of cherries. Helluva Sunday afternoon.

Timing the execution of this Move is vitally important in my opinion. Maybe you wait to bust ‘em out. Save ‘em for the inevitable road trip slump. 75% of the way there. Get all situated. "Boys want some cherries?” “Here’s a cup for the pits.” Now you're sharing cherries, telling jokes. "Dude, the cherries… What a play!" says your supportive friend.

Now you're 90% there. The exit's getting close. 72A rolls around, you pull off, start scoping the town. That natural sugar's got you a touch more positive. "Dude look how divey that spot is. We gotta go!” The cherries were a perfect setup man. 2016 Andrew Miller level. Woke the squad up and helped glide us into that exhilarating feeling of hearing the GPS give you that 2-mile exit warning.

Also, I feel like you can't tell the boys you have cherries. Might have to go covert on this one. The random reveal adds an element of humor that's perfect for this play.

Will I pull this Move off in the future? Probably not. I mean, I’d like to, but the odds of me remembering this Move 1-3 days before I saddle up for a road trip are slim. You know what? Fuck that. I’ll make sure my memory’s dialed. Cherries will be present during my next road trip. Road Trip Cherries. Could Be The Move.

- Bobby D

More writing on a new account I started:

A1JonSnow - Instagram, Substack

I've been approached with this Move twice in the last 3 weeks. Another example of great minds think alike. One was from a group of high school buddies. My dear friend Luis called me up, clearly hammered, and gave the phone over to a guy I used to play high school ball with. I was a couple years older than him, but dude could chuck it. (Had a lot of potential. Surprised he never made it to the Bigs honestly.) He was telling me about his new Move: "Grabbing Some Air at the Bar." No cig, no vape, just rolling outside and suckin' in some good ole-fashioned O2. Great Move. We got pumped, broke it down, he then asked if anyone's sent this Move over. Legit, someone hit me up with the same Move two weeks earlier. He seemed a little bummed, think bro was mentally on his way to the patent office. Ownership aside, what a play.

Type of Move that finds you around the age of 32-36. Not saying a young buck can't appreciate a Move like this, but, when you're early 30s and squished in some lame bar you didn't even want to go to, the idea of standing outside and breathing in fresh air starts looking at you like (insert any meme of a hot girl staring at you). This one works.

Early me would head to the bar for a reset. Couple shots for the boys. Now don't get me wrong, I'm a firm believer in rally shots, but rally shots are 1000% not a grounded, meditative practice. It's faux confidence and moxie intended to bring out the real thing. Suckin' down a little O2 with the boys... now we're grounded, now we're back at square one. Quick timeout, reset, clear mind, full hearts, can't lose. Real confidence, real character, smiles are wider, laughs are deeper, girls are less terrifying. Grab Some Air. Could Be The Move.

At first glance, I completely agree with this guy. Getting checked after dropping, "The Usual" sounds devastating. I mean a real week-to-month ruiner, but then again... what if this is his Move? Everywhere he goes, "I'll take the usual." First time at a place, "Hey! (checks nametag) Diane, I'll take the usual." Sure, you're getting a response like that 97% of the time, but what about that 3%? Server jots something down. They start whipping up whatever. Friends, family, acquaintances all in disbelief. "You come here a lot?" "Nope. First time." How did they know his order? The usual? Wait, what?

Is this Move worth the 97% rejection rate? The wave of secondhand embarrassment felt by everyone in a 10-foot radius? For me, probably not. But that 3% sounds like a fucking rush man.

Side note: I think we need to make, "Server’s Choice" a thing. Instead of grinding on the menu, just tell em', "Your call!" The anticipation of seeing what they bring out… might have to give that one a rip this weekend.

Comment section be like: "As a server of 10 years DO NOT do this. It's not our job to decide what you're having."

Yes, I'm aware this could rattle some servers, which is why I'd only pull it off with servers I've built rapport with. Relax. This is a comedy account.

I'll be honest, I don't like diving too far deep into Chop content. I feel like an old man yelling at a cloud. Just scraping the inner workings of my brain to create emotion, then channeling this angst and disgust into words on my computer screen. It's not therapeutic. If anything, it makes me more pissed off. Why I never got into journaling. Out here throwing emotions on a page; now the words live forever. Months, years later, you look back at what you wrote, “Dear god, if I pass and one of my family members gives this puppy a read...” “This guy’s a bozo!”

Alright, my Chop of the Week: Grillo's Pickles. Great fucking pickle: tasty, snappy, crunchy. Just beautiful. I tell you what though, their packaging is a god damn nightmare. Every time I open one of these bad boys I get pickle juice everywhere. Legit, every, single, time. I can't be the only unathletic fuck that has this issue. They fill that puppy right to the top, which, in a world where Doritos and Indie chips sell 85% air, I can respect this Move. But how about we lose a teaspoon or two.

I hated writing that. Grown man writing an excerpt in his newsletter about spilling pickle juice.

- Bobby D.

The 2026 Moves Madness Tournament crowned a winner Tuesday night. Grandpa Pregame (pictured above) took home the W in a dominant performance. Just a juggernaut of a 2 seed. Won every matchup by at least 20%. Special stuff.

Wanted to take a moment and pay tribute to this elite Move. When joeh_2021 sent it over, I immediately replied, "Pregaming with the Gpa is all time." I know you can make the gag, "What if both Grandpas are dead?" Which, yeah. I mean, I'm in the same boat. And I think it's why this Move hits so hard. There's some serious realness attached to this puppy.

People, moments, the good times, bad times, it's all going to end. We all have a finite amount of hangs in us. Sharing a couple beers, Diet Cokes, or tea with someone who, let's be real, might not have many left... what it's all about man.

I did a decent job kicking it with my Grandpas while they were here. Would never shy away from a call or having a long chat at family gatherings. Was I ever able to roll over with a personal sixer, watch a little ball, rip 2-3 beers and go on my way? Unfortunately, no. One passed when I was young and the other lived halfway across the country. Would I have loved to? Yeah man. That would be sick.

Maybe not having a Grandpa to share this Move with gives us a little more perspective on how great this Move is. Whatever light or POV you view this Move in, it's clear it connected with a lot of people. What a Move. Shoutout all the Grandpas out there.

With that being said, we posted a Grandpa Pregame Tournament Recap showing all the matchups and final results. My main takeaway: how “Arm Up High Out the Window” got absolutely obliterated in the 1st round.

Might be the biggest blowout in Moves Madness history. As stated above, yes, Grandpa Pregame is an all-time Move, but dear mother of God. 93-7. Holy domination.

What’s funny is, I fucking love this Move. (Shoutout babykoos 28 for sending it over.) It absolutely crushed me. One of my favorites of the year. I was so excited to post it on the carousel, and to my surprise, people hated it. Shit got torched! “Chop” this, “Chop” that. Was pretty funny honestly.

Fast forward to March. When picking the 64 Move field, this Move was legit at the top of my list. Gave it a 15 seed though because I knew everyone hated it. But even still, I figured people would mess around and give this Move at least 20% of the vote. 93-7 is unreal.

This Move man… the more I sit with it, the more I like it. Which is saying a lot because when I first saw this bad boy I legit laughed out loud. Just a thing of beauty. A perfect juxtaposition: our guy’s out here escaping the confides of modern technology while still embracing its perks. A classic have your cake and eat it too play.

I really think this Move is going to age incredibly well. Aphex Twin, Nick Drake kind of Move. I’m 100% posting this Move at least once a year until Could Be The Move is no more.

Next thing you know, out of nowhere, the kids are pulling it off. A Gen Alpha go-to. Gen Z and Millennials in disbelief at how a generation of young adults could fathom executing such an eyesore of a Move. Then again, maybe we look back and go, “Shit was hot. Didn’t appreciate it at the time.” Shoutout Pink Moon.

God I respect this Move. Shoutout @jdoogs10 for the inspiration. Nothing like setting an unreal expectation that you'll never live up to on your first day of work. My kind of Move honestly. Might have to pair this Move with, "First Day Packing Some Exquisite Lunch."

"Homemade Beef Wellington for lunch? Holy shit this guy's dialed."

Sure, the expectation bar will immediately submarine when, the next day, you come strolling in on a Bird Scooter (still kind of a sick Move honestly) and 4 Uncrustables. (Again, both decent Moves, but it's no Uber Black and BW.)

What's key to the effectiveness of this Move is making sure people see you roll up in this Uber Black. Sounds simple, but if you roll up at some dipshit hour and only Johnny from accounting sees you… Absolute L. (No offense to Johnny from accounting. Great guy, but he's on the quiet side. Not the kind of guy to tell great tales of your first day entrance.) Can't have that $50 E-Class ride go to waste. Gotta slip the Uber driver a $20: "Circle around a little would ya." Now you're hawking the parking lot for the CEO, your boss, or, if you're on the 5th or 6th lap, maybe some cute girl or something. Stepping out that 5 Series like some ‘70s pimp, high leg kick and all, overdressed, shades, fresh spray of a Tom Ford sample you've been holding onto for years.

“Hey! Mike. Nice to meet you,” you energetically say as you approach the office door.

"First day. Let's hope this works." Keycard works, door opens.

"They didn't change their mind! Great news."

CEO, your boss, or the office cute girl is a little reserved... That's when you drop the line about the sick lunch you brought.

"Do we have an office wok?"

"An office wok? What? No. Yeah, no office wok."

"Too bad... Made some fresh gyoza and a side of fried rice would really hit the spot." Promotion or date in no time.

Seriously though, the idea of rippin' an Uber Black to functions where an initial impression plays... So good. First day of work, brilliant. High school reunion, plays. JV baseball tryouts? I'm listening.

Just sending a fucking message. I'm in. Uber Black First Day of Work. Could Be The Move.

Wild how carrying around butterscotch candies became a stereotypical punchline for old people. Like this Move is somehow a bad thing. You know what? Fuck that. I'm capitalizing Butterscotch. Just out of god damn respect. If Ms. Gomer comes calling (my freshman English teacher), tell her I slipped it in the proper noun category.

The Silent Generation. Tough-ass crew: fought in wars, paved the way for civil rights, and yeah, occasionally dished out a Butterscotch to their grandkids. Selfless Move. I mean, think about it. You're getting ready for 9:00am Sunday mass. Right before you step out the door, you backtrack and shove a couple extra Werther's in your purse, knowing you'll see little Timmy and Shay. Now you're giving hugs, kisses, dishing out Butterscotches to your day ones. What a Move. Nobody, and I mean nobody, should ever be held in contempt for executing such a great Move.

Then a collection of Boomer/Gen X giggle heads decided to play judge, jury and executioner on this Move. Same dipshits who reaped the benefits of free Butterscotches for years. They said, "Nah... That's for old people!" Now the only thing old people carry around is an entitled, "I worked harder than you!" attitude.

This damn stigma, and American society's constant fight against aging, has led to a massive shortage of Butterscotches in old people's purses. 50-60 year old woman scoffing at the bags of Butterscotches they pass at their local CVS. "I'm not old. Not yet. Not me!"

I'm about to bring that shit back. Snag a handful of Butterscotches before I head out. Dish 'em out to the squad. Next thing you know I got people hunting me down late night. "Any more Butterscotch candies?" they ask.

For all you single peeps out there: you wanna talk about initiating conversation with a group of girls/guys. Just offer them a Butterscotch. Sure, you'll immediately hear, "What are you an old lady?" Like that's a bad thing. "Old lady? Like my Grandma? Hell yeah! She was awesome."

Now we're talking Grandmas and falling in love.

The world needs to receive Butterscotches again. Dishing Out Butterscotches. Could Be The Move.

Heading off to Vegas this weekend. 1st round of the NCAA Tourney, maybe a little Blue Man Group, I dunno. Last couple days I was trying to think of an all-encompassing Vegas Move. One that stands out, perks the ears up when mentioned. So many came to mind:

Vibe Out at the Craps Table.

I don't know what the hell's going on over there, but it looks fun. A lot more fun than Debbie the Dealer turning over Ace/Jack for the 12th time. Maybe head over with a couple beers, soak in the fun.

Gift Your Buddies a World Series Bet of Their Favorite Team.

Lil' $10 bet on the O's, Sox, A's, Rockies, whatever they fancy. Head over to bro's desk opening day. "Happy opening day." Float over a Rays World Series Winner. +9000.

How about that one Vegas commercial where the boys head out with a fake trophy and act like they're celebrating some massive dub. What a play!

Hard to land on one. The city is filled with so many plays.

Then I started thinking of Moves I'd pull if I wasn't scared... Like robbing a casino Ocean's 11 style.

How sick would that be? You recruit 10 of your best. Spend months dialing in some sophisticated game plan. No smash and grab bullshit, but a well thought out chess match with some of the best security in the world. I don’t know, just feel like the planning, the fits, the "we're clear", coupla' victory stoags. How sick would that be?

Who am I kidding... All a pipe dream. A damn fantasy. Should've never brought it up. I'll never throw on a 5k suit, scout out the Bellagio, eat a standing shrimp cocktail. Damn shame as far as I'm concerned.

Then again... Instead of risking the 20+ years in prison, why not get your Ocean's 11 on elsewhere. Dial in an elaborate prank, organize a detailed bar crawl, help your buddy get out of his slump.

C'mon, the idea of discreetly inviting your friends over, "I gotta job. 8:00. My place. Wear something nice." Now, ideally you wouldn’t have to include the, “Wear something nice.” part. You’d hope based on the tone and matter of fact nature of the text would prompt a more formal dress code. Can’t assume though. This Move’s just not the same when the boys roll up with Intramural Champ shirts and exposed feet.

Squad rolls in (dressed nicely), you and your buddy are standing next to the TV looking like Pitt and Clooney. You turn on the TV and it's your buddy Sean's face, "Slump" right above his head.

Sean's not in attendance but 10 of his buddies are. All eyeing the TV. Waiting to hear more.

You start briefing the squad on how Sean got his heartbroken two months ago (everyone knows) and how, as good friends, it’s your duty to help kick start his journey back into the wild.

Slides include:

- The bar crawl journey/map (Sean loves bar crawls).
- Who’s invited.
- The exact place and time we dial in a social interaction with Stephanie’s single friends. (Stephanie, in attendance, nods along.)
- A hero set up. Hire some guy to act like an utter buffoon in front of the ladies. Sean steps up. Tells him to back off. Buffoon gets big chested, challenges Sean to a big money pool match (Sean’s great at pool). Crowd gathers, close match, Sean dub, people cheer, buffoon acts like a sore loser, sucker punch (soft blow, Hollywood style), Sean retaliates, kicks his ass, more cheers, one of Stephanie’s friends falls in love, wedding 3 years later…

Figure you can get as detailed as you want.

Sure robbing a casino is probably a much more intense rush but the reward….? Millions of dollars vs. your friend’s happiness and well being…

I dunno, maybe just rob the casino and give Sean a bigger cut. Money buys happiness. Everyone knows this.

I dig those stupid little food delivery robots. Cocos, they call ‘em. Cruisin' along the sidewalks, moving like they're drunk. Honestly, hard not to respect the dig. Little fucker's out there obeying all the traffic laws, trying his hardest. Not a fan of people messing with those things. "You can judge a man's true character by the way he treats his fellow Coco robots.” - Paul McCartney

What can I say? I think they're cute. Maybe Pixar or George Lucas is to blame, but there's something about a little robot trying his damnedest to help the human species. Just beautiful man. Now yes, I'm aware these little dipshits will sooner or later evolve and try to murder us, but I’m pretty sure I'll be fine. Especially with this new Move I got.

So we get tons of Moves sent in regarding the idea of "getting out ahead" of the Robot vs. Human War:

- “Be nice to ChatGPT. Little please and thank you.”
- “Check in on ChatGPT from time to time. See how they're doing, get to know them a little more.”
- “Shoot ChatGPT some compliments throughout the week.”

All of these Moves have the same goal in mind: staying alive when the robots eventually take over.

I'm truly a fan of these Moves, I really am. Thinking ahead, sharp! But I will say, when it comes to changing the way someone thinks and feels about you, I prefer going the monetary route. "Money talks.” Which is why I've been dishin' delivery robots a couple bucks whenever they drop off my food. Lil' grease sesh for that dumb sum' bitch. I mean he's out there putting it on the line: grinding, hustling. Least I could do honestly.

Now we're golden, win-win situation. My tip conscience is clean, plus now when shit goes sideways and that little Coco fuck grows up to be 7 feet tall with machine gun hands, "Hey... It's me! The tip guy! Remember?" Spared. I mean, c'mon. You think ChatGPT's gonna remember every poor bastard that sauced him a thank you? Hell no. My $5 grease sesh stood out. Saved my life.

Maybe it's a Terminator 2 situation and Coco's bitch ass ends up protecting me. I get in his ear. Start talking about how the robots and human civilization can coexist. Next thing you know I'm in peace talks with Mr. ChatGPT himself. Bomb strapped to my chest, 8 seconds away from saving the human race.

Seriously though, the idea of tossing $5 into a Coco robot is hilarious to me. Pull this Move off in front of someone who doesn't really know you that well. Date 4-5, "Did you just tip that Coco?" "Yeah... Guy's been working hard."

- Worst case scenario: people think you're an annoying loser who tries way too hard to be funny.
- Most likely scenario: you get a quick cheap laugh and you're down $1-$5.
- Best case scenario: you save the human race and your face will forever be stamped on the $5 bill.

Tipping the Robot. Could Be The Move.

- Bobby D

I fucking love those movie scenes where the detective's at the library straight COOKING on a case. They're in the deep, dark corners of that puppy scraping up all sorts of info. When that newspaper projection thingy pops up and the camera zooms in on whatever old-timey newspaper they're looking at, you know shit's about to get real. I've always wanted to use one of those things. Sit in some dim-lit room, scroll through the 1926 Washington Post, squint, move closer when I find some article that'll help crack the case.

“Is that? No way. Mr. Jenkins and he's with...  Holy shit...” ***Rustling in the darkness just beyond the projector thingy*** "Hello.... Debbie?... Is that you?"

Aside from the jump scare and my story’s antagonist watching from afar, I need this shit in my life.

Only problem, for the longest time, I had no idea what these newspaper projector scroll things that sat in the basement of libraries in some of my favorite movies were called. Figured that was step one. My Google searches were embarrassing: "Newspaper projector" "Library newspaper screen thing" "For the love of god what are those fucking things in movies where they look at old newspapers?"

I was desperate. Scrolling deep down Google images like I just googled "boobs" for the first time. Page 4, 5, nothing. Then, bang. I finally found it. Microfilm.

Microfilm? That's it? So underwhelming. I mean, this whole time I figured these things had some cool name that only ball knowers would know. Whatever, it's microfilm, and the “newspaper projection thing” I was searching for is just a microfilm reader. What a joke.

So yeah, I'm thinking my new Move is to head to my local library and grind on some microfilm. Politely ask the librarian to snap a pic of me. Add some sick caption, "Chase the quiet until the silence knows your name." “Is that Dolan knee deep in some unsolved 1976 missing persons case? Holy bag.”

Script below. I’m not fucking around.

My New Hobby.pdf

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Was on my way to my buddy's place the other day. (He wishes to remain nameless for fear his roommate will read this and kick his ass.) Plan was to film a couple clips of said friend hanging up one of his Legendary T-Shirts in the Rafters. Oops. Sorry Gav.

Gav's roommate's been out of town the last couple weeks. Asked him what he's been doing with the place to himself. He said a couple things: demolishing the jar of jelly beans his roommate leaves out for company, stacking dishes in the sink, having loud ass sex. He didn't say the sex part, I chimed in with that one. We giggled. As the laughter faded, he mentioned how he slept on the couch last night. I dialed back the volume on the Ninajirachi and explained how I also enjoy a nice couch snooze from time to time. And when I mean couch snooze, I'm not talking about some, "Doze off to Gordon Ramsey's new documentary then head over to the bed when you wake up at 2:42 am" bullshit. I'm talking you head into the night with a, "I'm going to sleep on the couch tonight" mindset.

When we arrived at his place, the first thing I noticed was the low supply of Jelly Bellys. A rare sight, thing's usually topped off. Bro sniped all the good ones too. Licorice and Chocolate Pudding were the only ones left standing. The Jelly Belly disappointment was quickly hijacked by a wave of awe and admiration. I looked to my left and caught a glimpse of the living room... Looked like a bomb went off. Couch cushions everywhere, a bedroom pillow scrunched up in the wall of the couch, more bedroom decor, this time a comforter snaked its way through the disheveled cushions. After visually taking in this monstrosity of a living room, I quickly realized Gav knew ball. The only thing that survived this couch snooze were two packs of cookies. The Oreos and Chips Ahoy (gluten-free) were sealed and neatly stacked atop the nearby ottoman. Guy was in the fucking zone.

Back at the office, I told great tales of what I had witnessed. Some of the squad was confused. They didn't understand why someone would forgo their open bed in favor of an entire night on the couch.

This took me back. I thought everyone pulled this Move off. Had it penciled in as a universal experience. Boy was I wrong. I looked like a fool.

"You know. When you're in a rut and want to shake shit up... Just head over to the couch for the night?"

"What?" They judged. They insulted. They belittled.

"Give it a shot! It feels like a fun weekday adventure."

"I will do no such thing you dumb fuck." They shouted.

Gavin wasn't there to defend the Move. He was off grinding on some USA Hockey fan fiction video. (CBTM laptop sticker got some serious play in that one. [Not for sale yet. Working on it.])

I'm not here to convince or turn non-believers into believers, but I will say... This is legit one of my favorite Moves of all time. Easily top 50.

As stated earlier, great Move if you're in a rut. I do it all the time post-shitty day: hammer some wine, eat some snacks, fall asleep to Dumb and Dumber. Makes you feel like you're in control. You make the decisions around here. You can sleep wherever you want to sleep. Doesn't have to be in your bedroom. Hell, you can drag your mattress to the kitchen and sleep there. There's something about this little shakeup and, "I can do whatever I want" thought. For some reason, that mindset helps settle me. Brings me back down to earth. Hence, great if you're slumpin’ a touch.

Also, piggybacking off the grounded theme. Sometimes I'll head to the couch if I feel like I've gotten too soft or uptight. Lil' 8 hours on the couch to get my grit back, chill the fuck out a little.

8 hours on the couch isn't for everyone. It’s for the carefree, the vibers. The type that can handle a similar, yet different environment. Sure, we’ll sink deep in a cushion gap and wake up with a tight back, but that's the game man. Back might be tight, but mentally we're loose. Stripped from the shackles of Big Bed Corp. Going with the flow, yet taking a stand. Society and social norms aren’t gonna tell me where to lay my head on a typical weekday.

8 Hours on the Couch. Could Be The Move.

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