Dear Self

Coffee is strong this morning (I robbed the pot before it was actually done) it has that rich hearty flavor as they say on the commercials, robust and fine.  I must be insane or something, do they actually believe that I am supposed to accept the statement “that I search the world over, for the ingredients to make the PERFECT DORRITO CHIP?” and while I am at it, might as well set the mood for the piece right?

IF I EVER SEE ANOTHER STUPID FREECREDITSCORE.COM COMMERCIAL AGAIN IN MY LIFE … IT WILL BE TOO SOON.

NOW REALLY …  A Florida man shot his girlfriend because he mistook her for a hog.  I am not making this up.  You can read about it here.  Come to think of it, I had a blind date like that once.  Come on … Give Us A Break.

LIFE IS TOUGH DEPARTMENT …  A fugitive who took a Kansas couple hostage in their home is suing them for $235K.  He claims they accepted his knifepoint offer of money to hide in their house.  But they later breached the oral contract by escaping as he slept.  He then says, “this resulted in my being shot in the back by authorities.”  And therefore the lawsuit.  Stop the world y’honor, I want off.

BRAIN TEASERS …  I will never understand this at all.  A guy locks himself out of the house, so in order to save money (by not calling a locksmith) he crawls down the chimney of his house and gets lodged and has to be rescued.  Now here is the rub, “what makes someone believe they are going to get by the damper?”  I mean it is just plain stooopid.

Here is another one.  All you people who pick your nose at the stoplight while sitting in your car?  Do you actually believe you are invisible to the rest of us?

C’mon!

DEAR SELF … If you were asked to write yourself a letter when you were sixteen years old, what would you write to yourself?  Now that is an interesting subject to tackle this morning, how would you formulate a response to this question …

What would you say to your 16 year old self?

Would you have warned yourself to steer clear of mind altering substances (drugs) and not to date all those trashy women who did not appreciate you.  How about the no load guys who were too lazy to get a job, and wanted to sponge off not only your good looks but also your generosity.

What would you have written in this letter?

My Dearest Teenage Don, I had a urinary tract infection … again. 



That sentence appeared in my head as I thought about this premise (idea), just as you see it above. I have no idea what it means, other than the obvious. Regardless, I thought it’d be interesting to begin a letter to my teenage self with it and just see where it goes. 



Teenage Don, I had a urinary tract infection … again.

I had to go to the family clinic.  Mom’s doctor liked to abbreviate the condition to UTI. He said that my only option non-specific-uretharitis was in this case was cranberry juice and abstinence. Thankfully, my mother, was always very understanding. How she knew about these kind of things, I will never know. 

When I asked Dad he just said, “go ask your mother.” 

Just remember this:  Life is tough when you are sixteen, and things just kind of gravitate towards that goal for the remainder of your life, and of course, stamps will cost a LOT more when YOU write yourself a letter when you are sixty and I am dead. 

So here is my advice to you this day. 

Try desperately to get young supple ladies to wrap their legs around your 27 inch waist, learn to juggle, play frisbee, always use Zig-Zag rolling papers, drink Sweet Bitch wine from Chile, that has been cooled in the surf of the Pacific Ocean by means of a long string and a beach of fine white sand.  Always avoid window-pane acid (I mean, who would want to watch their face melt in a mirror without suffering a full-blown psychotic break?) and by all means, as you age and mature, stay away from politics in any way, shape, form or manner. 

You should be okay (maybe).

Ok, there is mine, what is yours, what would you say to your sixteen year old self, if you had the chance?

See you at the water cooler

OOO

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