I fucking hate Tony Robbins. HATE HIM.
I’m not talking about some minor ‘Oh my God, that guy is so obnoxious!’ annoyance I have with him, or some ‘What’s up with that guy’s voice?’ creeped out by him thing either. I HATE HIM.
Hi, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Anne. It’s nice to meet you. Have I told you how much I hate Tony Robbins?
Tony has thing that he does where he tells you in that unique voice of his to “Awake the giant within!” He’s really good at convincing people that they have a whole lot to offer the world, and that it’s as simple as believing in yourself and following your passion. Do you know what happens when you follow your passion? You end up making a fool of yourself.
You see, it’s one thing to believe you are capable of doing anything, and another thing altogether when you actually attempt to accomplish your lifelong dream. First, there’s this little thing that I like to call ‘talent’. You may think that you have a fabulous singing voice, but as every American Idol audition episode has taught us, there’s a good chance you don’t. Secondly, there’s this other thing I like to call ‘market demand’. Maybe you do have a wonderful singing voice, but that won’t necessarily stop the judges from saying, “You remind me of Carrie Underwood. The world does not need another Carrie Underwood.”
That’s pretty much what happened at my audition. Not for American Idol, but down at the Tit for Tat Gentlemen’s Club. Apparently, the world is not clamouring for fifty-eight year old pole dancers. It seems that saggy boobs and C-section scars aren’t considered sexy. And supposedly flexible limbs and joints are must-have prerequisites. Um, hello! It’s called arthritis!
I’m thinking about suing for age discrimination, beauty discrimination, and discrimination against those with physical disabilities. It’s not my fault I waited too long to go after my dream job. It’s Tony Robbins fault for making me think that I could still make it happen.
I fucking hate Tony Robbins.