The number 42 has been bestowed the twinkle of legend, thanks to Douglas Adams; according to his Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy, the number represents the “answer to life, the universe, and everything.” Now that I’m 42, it’s time to spill the beans of wisdom on this, my 42nd blog entry. The following represents the sum total of 42 years’ worth of cosmic enlightenment…and stuff.
- To say Modern Life is complicated would be an insulting understatement. It’s more like a problem that presents itself as a snag within the complicated weave of a vexation, which is itself a hangnail on the toe of a hassle, which is being eaten alive by a ravenous conundrum with a drinking problem. Or, if you prefer: the predicaments presented by Modern Life can be compared to a series of Russian nesting dolls, each one more hideous than the last, with the final one being a tiny turd for your troubles.
- “Awesome” is not really a compliment. The old guy from “Shit My Old Man Says” is “awesome”. This cat is “awesome”. If you are declared “awesome”, it’s because you’re either a nose-picking, bird-flipping weirdo standing at Squaresville city limits, or you belong to one and have fled for your life. Once word of your “awesomeness” catches on, it’ll only be a matter of time before you are either incarcerated or institutionalized. Look at how they’re stalking that poor cat, for instance.
- They say it gets better after high school. That’s not true. It only gets bigger. But at least no one is going to force you to take a shower with your coworkers.
- The Funk was invented to deliver the poor and the disadvantaged from their malaise in much the same way Prozac was bestowed upon the trust fund nation to validate theirs. I learned this by spending an entire winter in this very drafty, low rent house that I call home, listening to The Funk almost exclusively. When The Funk plays, I descend from the dark attic of my mind and dwell within the House of the Lord Have Mercy, and I dance. I dance very badly, mind you, but doing so makes me feel very good. Funk Messiah George Clinton once said “Free your mind and your ass will follow”, but it’s actually the other way around. PS The power company can’t charge you a cent for bodyheat.
- The first time your child calls you an unflattering name, do not get angry. Consider yourself a freshly minted knight of the Realm known as parenthood. Take it from me, Sir Underwear Face of Charlemagne Oaks!
- Each day should begin with the following affirmation: “What are you going to do today, Napoleon? Whatever I feel like I wanna do! Gosh!” You may not be able to fulfill that manifesto to its chocolate-drizzled-and-cutlass-swinging extreme, but if you don’t find at least a tiny way to be true to yourself, you’ve wasted that day.
- People who insist they “deserve” things only deserve to have what they think they have coming to them sat upon by an unwashed elephant, right before their very eyes.
- A word to the dudes: if you’re lookin’ to project an unquestionably masculine verbal style, you need to start droppin’ the G. When you drop the G, you tell the world that you are a man of action, a man who won’t be gettin’ bogged down with your fussy verb-endin’s and the candy-ass book-learnin’ that goes with it. When you’re a G-droppin’ man, you can do things like go ahead and pick up that Twilight beefcake merch that they had at the BK last summer–the Jacob’s Growlin’ Bag Tag and the Jacob’s Morphin’ Wallet–because Burger King understands the G-droppin’ man, and knows why that G has to be dropped. Because G stands for gay.
- Love means never having to say “You’re full of shit.” Because that, in fact, is what brought you together in the first place.
- As illustrated by the following video, all possible aspects of the infinite are, in fact, in alignment– revealing this one inescapable reality: no matter where you are, the White Stripes are there, too, and they will rock all that exists within and without your sphere of perception. In short, they ARE the multiverse. I have attempted on many occasions to share this game-changing discovery with the physicists at Fermilab, but they are apparently of the opinion that the key to all universal possibility is They Might Be Giants. “Particle Man”, indeed!
- If someone tells you a personal story that ends up embarrassing more than it entertains, know that you have been subjected to an anecdon’t.
- As I spend incrementally more time at the mirror, tweezing my increasingly handsome face, I realize that with middle age comes not only wisdom, but also nature’s sex change. I think of the budding breasts of Mel Gibson and I am consoled.
This is what I’ve learned, and that’s all there is to learn. Now that I’m done learning and thinking, I can burn all these books and get to watching some G-d Nascar.