You want to live a life worth living? Here’s some advice to that end (or, at least, advice that ends, just eight bullet points and a curt valediction later):
- Seize the day (gently caress the night)
- Get back on the bull (unless it’s an actual bull, then run for your life…and stop riding bulls)
- Never give up (unless you’re doing something stupid; then stop doing whatever it is and don’t start again)
- Always look both ways before crossing the street (unless the sun is located on one side of the street; in that case advert your eyes from that direction because…)
- Never stare directly at the sun (unless your contact lenses are solar powered, or something really awesome on the sun is going on, like a Radiohead concert)
- The love you take is equal to the love you make (which I don’t understand, mostly because I’m terrible at math)
- Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today (I don’t have a witty comment for this one and don’t really have time to come up with one right now, but I will be sure get back to you in a day or two)
- Don’t spend your time reading terrible blogs (don’t spend your time reading terrible blogs).
See that salad up there? With beets, and arugula, and a well-made vinaigrette? Yeah, that’s my salad. I bought it. With my money. And now I’m going to eat it. With my mouth. And if you knew what’s good for you, you’d buy it and eat it too. Because you should buy things and eat things that are good for you. And brush your teeth. At least twice daily. And don’t do drugs. Unless they’re of the pharmaceutical variety. And only then if they’re prescribed by a doctor, your doctor, who’s familiar with your specific medical record. And only then after doing your own independent research into the efficacy and wholesomeness of said drugs (which research should only include the reading of blogs like this). And only then if you’re legitimately dying. And only then if…just don’t do any drugs. Eat salads. Like this fucking salad. Man that’s a great salad. Look at that salad. That salad will change your life. Then maybe you yourself can take a picture of your own healthy salad and write a post about how great your salad is, and then you too will change other peoples’ lives by getting them to eat great fucking salads like that great fucking salad. Dammit, now my salad is cold. Wait, it’s supposed to be cold. Booyah.
Positive Mental Attitude (or “P.M.A.). Let’s parse that out a bit. Positive. Mental. Attitude. Positive: electricity. Mental: crazy person. Attitude: panache. So, from there, it’s clear to see that if you electrocute a crazy person who has a good sense of style, then you will create a Positive Mental Attitude.* If you do this frequently enough, then, eventually, you can do whatever, and get whatever you want in life. Sure, you might end up in prison for the rest of that life, but you will have obtained PMA. And that’s all that matters in life.
*This is what doctors in insane asylums were trying to produce. They just neglected the “A” in P.M.A. Have you seen some of the outfits they had crazy people wear in those facilities? Tacky.
First of all, let’s dispel that notion. You know, the one that’s in your mind right now which is preventing you from being truly you. Yeah, that one. Dispel it. Right now. Good. Okay. We’re doing this. And another thing, we only have one shot at this life thing. (Unless you believe in reincarnation, but even if you do you need to make sure you don’t fuck this life up, lest you end up being one of those fucky-flat-cockroachy-things that live under rocks in the next life…and there’s really no going back from that, because how do you live a life under a rock as a fucky-flat-cockroachy-thing in a way that will lead to you being reborn as Sting or the Queen of England, or anything else that doesn’t resemble a fucky-flat-cockroach?) So take the shot. Or don’t. Save your bullets. For the apocalypse. Or use them for jewelry or something, but yes, use them, before some damn Commi takes them from you. Because it’s your God-given right to have bullets. Literally. It’s written somewhere in the Bible. Well, it’s written in my Bible. In the margins. In pencil. In my dad’s handwriting. Next to a crooked looking smiley face, it says: “Thus God spaketh to the world below: YOU CAN HAVE BULLETS! AND MAKE JEWELRY WITH THEM! THAT IS MY RIGHT GIVEN TO YOU! EXCEPT FOR YOU, YOU FUCKY-FLAT-COCKROACHY-THINGS, BECAUSE WHAT’S YOUR DEAL?”
So whenever you’re feeling like things aren’t going particularly well, return to this blog-post and bathe in its wisdom.
And remember, we’re in this together! (Quite literally, if you’re me, which I hope you aren’t, because, as stated in the title of this profound diatribe, there can be only one me.*)
*If you are me, would you please remember to clip your toenails once and awhile. They are reaching epic, Hobbit-like proportions.