I've Learned a Lot in Thirty-Eight Years...

...so I'm fairly sure I'll be asked to speak at a commencement address sometime in the future. Granted, it may be as a cautionary tale. I'm not what you would call 'successful' but I do have life experience (I'll mail $5 cash money to the first person with the appropriate Simpson's response and mailing address. Hint: cranberry silo).
Never mind, this is what I would tell the kids were I asked. It's in fact what I yell at everyone in the corner of Fittons and West Street whenever I have a day off.

I'm pretty sure, on your death-bed, that you won't regret having phoned in sick to go fishing.

I've never regreted taking pills I've randomly found. Worst case scenario? They have no effect.

Read as much as you can if only to make people think you are smart when you watch Jeopardy.

Watch as many documentaries as your attention span will allow. See above.

Try to have a back up plan. You probably are not as talented as you think you are.

Just once, add a gratuitous picture of the Mr. T twins posing with Curious George on top of a Camaro to your blog.

If you don't hate someone, tell them just one time before they snuff it.

Ambien and vodka do not mix unless you want a noggin-sized hole in the drywall next to the toaster

Always have marijiuana on hand but don't smoke at work unless you are a dish-washer, graphic designer or baby photographer.

Wanna pretend you understand jazz music and impress bohemian chicks? Learn this phrase - 'Jelly Roll Morton may have invented it but, brother, Ornette Coleman perfected it!"

Professional critics are full of horseshit. Celine Dion, Titanic and Oprah's Book Club are as valid as Husker Du, Repo Man and the books Brian read in college while ripped on rat poison and cheap beer. Art is how it affects you.
Except for According To Jim.
That show is just plain shitty.

The best alcoholic mix for slushies? Rye whiskey.

You're Welcome.