Just Call Me Dear Abby

Actually, don’t call me that. I am terrible at giving advice, I should have listed it on the things that make me feel uncomfortable. Call me Dear Stabby instead. So, today’s blogging challenge is “a piece of advice you have for others” is in fact, a real challenge for me. What advice can I, someone who uses humor to deflect everything, give to others? Well, here is some very selective sage advice for specific groups of people:

For people who have lots of goldfish crackers lying around: Throw that shit in a salad. Goldfish make excellent croutons, and you only feel the tiniest bit of despair when eating it.

photo courtesy of http://www.ifyoucanstomachit.com. NOM.

For teenage girls: Do not lose your virginity to a guy because he said he would take you to a dance. This guy will already have TWO girlfriends.

For people having retail interactions with David Schwimmer: Do not tell him that the Friends finale DVD was so popular that you have to keep it behind the counter like it’s spray paint. He will look at you weird then offer you a piece of gum.

For people taking a presumably injured adolescent opossum to the Wildlife Rescue Center: Do not overestimate the amount of time a possum will play dead. He will wake up half way through the trip and attempt to crawl up your arm while you are driving.

For newlyweds: Do not shave your downstairs area before going on your honeymoon. You don’t want to have an itchy crotch while playing tennis at 10:30 AM drunk off melonballs.

For singers in wedding bands: Do not get drunk between sets then attempt to sing harmony and play tambourine on a Fleetwood Mac song. You will end up singing in unison and playing the tambo off beat. DO get so into your performance of “Shout” that you roll around on the stage and show your band your leopard print underwear, then get in the bride’s face and scare the crap out of her.