Ultimate Advice Book Speed-Read

It seems like nowadays a person can't fart without another endeavoring person writing an advice book on how said fart could have been accomplished faster, to better profit, and in accordance with some handy acronym. (Flatulent Autonomic Reactive Tooting, perhaps?)

But there wouldn't be books like "The 4-Hour Workweek" or "5 Minute Abs" if these endeavoring authors didn't at least have some grasp of the notion that people with real jobs (that is, people who have not made a fortune selling bogus advice books) don't really have a lot of free time to, well, read advice books.

In the spirit of this, I've decided to help you all out and summarize some popular advice books in... are you ready for this? Three words or less. Because I am just such a nice person like that.

The Science of Skinny

Eat Vegetables, Dumbass.

Although I have to wonder about the subconscious implications of the fact that the cover apparently is obsessively measuring the waist circumference of a string bean. NOT SKINNY ENOUGH, BEAN.

What to Expect When You're Expecting

Hopefully, A Baby.


Unless there was some truth to that old jump rope chant... "it's a boy, it's a girl, it's an outer space creature... oh, crap."

He's Just Not That Into You

Call You, Maybe?


But probably not.

Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man

Gorgeous, Don't Argue.


Just be ladylike and keep your mouth shut... except for when you... you know what I mean, baby, 'cause now I got you thinking like me.

How to Win Friends & Influence People

Mostly, You Lie.


Hopefully you can influence them to believe you. I think it works better if you get them to think like a man first.

The Omnivore's Dilemma

Bacon or Sausage?


Luckily, the Big Slam comes with both.

Who Moved My Cheese?

I ate it.

Who leaves cheese unattended?

What Color Is Your Parachute?

Your Job Sucks.

Maybe we can help you find a new one? If not, at least you just helped us keep ours by purchasing this book!

The 4-Hour Work Week

Collecting Social Security.


Because that's the only way this is going to happen, and we all know those lines can be long. Direct Deposit, dude. It will reduce your work week another 95%.

Organizing from the Inside Out

Clean your shit.


At least, I hope your house/desk being being messy and unorganized is the focus of this book, because the only other possibility is that they want you to alphabetize your organs.









Congratulations, you've (sort of) just read ten books in forty seconds, and are well on your way to bettering yourself!

Sure, there is the minor issue concerning the fact that I have not actually read any of these books, but were you really going to read them either? 

I'm happy to take three-word summary suggestions on any other books you'd like to (sort of) read. Just leave a comment.

Asking the right questions

Much like Captain Jack Sparrow's poignant "But why is the rum gone?", sometimes it is critical in life to ask the right questions. Here are a few examples of the right question to ask in various life situations the next time you encounter them (and you will, probably the next time you open facebook).

WHEN SOMEONE SAYS: Why do women always date assholes and then complain that there aren't any nice guys?
THE RIGHT QUESTION IS: Why are assholes always so goddamn good looking?

WHEN SOMEONE SAYS: Be yourself. Everyone else is already taken.
THE RIGHT QUESTION IS: Why am I always stuck with the last pick? Or alternately, who keeps letting Chuck Norris pick first?


WHEN SOMEONE SAYS: What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.
THE RIGHT QUESTION IS: Can you please explain Lyme disease to me?


WHEN SOMEONE SAYS: If a train leaves New York traveling west at 50 mph and another train leaves California traveling east at 45 mph, where and when will they meet?
THE RIGHT QUESTION IS: Who the fuck takes trains anymore?


WHEN SOMEONE SAYS: You can't have your cake and eat it, too.
THE RIGHT QUESTION IS: Why don't we just buy a bigger cake next time?


WHEN SOMEONE SAYS: The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.
THE RIGHT QUESTION IS: How do you know that?


WHEN SOMEONE SAYS: I loved him enough to let him go.
THE RIGHT QUESTION IS: Was he dangling over the edge of a cliff?


WHEN SOMEONE SAYS: Don't give advice that isn't asked for.
THE RIGHT QUESTION IS: Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?


WHEN SOMEONE SAYS: Will you marry me?
THE RIGHT QUESTION IS: What's in it for me?


WHEN SOMEONE SAYS: I'm just going to keep hoping & praying until my problem goes away on its own!
THE RIGHT QUESTION IS: And which hand are you going to shit in?



I would write some more, but some guy just stashed vodka in the bushes in front of my work so I have to go refill the bottle with water and put it back now.

A lot better than that shit you'll find in your fortune cookie tonight

Sometimes as humans, we learn from experience. Other times, we learn from observation. In my eyes, the apex of learning occurs when we are also laughing. Or something. Honestly, I just felt like I needed to preface my list of life lessons with some words, so here they are. I'm outlining a few lessons I've learned in life, through experience, observation, and/or wikipedia.

You actually will use cursive writing in real adult life. Growing up in a world rife with computers and instructions to "PLEASE PRINT", I never thought I'd actually need to use cursive - and I wasn't buying that "you need to learn an entire new writing style so you can sign your name to important grown-up things" bit, because everyone knows you only need to sign the first letter of your name and then just sort of scribble randomly. The real reason you need to learn to write in cursive is in preparation for that day when you go into work so hungover that you literally cannot lift your pen off of the piece of paper you're writing on. On that day and only that day, cursive is going to be the most amazing thing you've ever experienced, except for possibly a Big Mac.

Everyone can get 15 minute breaks at work. How many people have started smoking just to get extra breaks at work? I know I've been tempted even though I sure as hell know better. Honestly I can't believe that I've only figured this one out in the last year or so, but you don't need to take cigarette breaks just to get off the floor for 15 minutes. Just remember: Not everybody smokes, but everybody poops. It's not like anyone's going to follow you in there to find out that you're actually just sitting on the closed toilet lid playing Angry Birds.

Everything worth watching on TV is on Sunday at 9:00 pm. You can only watch one of them at a time, though. Seriously, TV is just pure junk all week long, and then everything you actually want to watch is all on at the same time. If you like a show that's on at a different time, you probably have horrible taste in entertainment. Either that, or your show is getting moved next season to Sundays at 9.

Don't talk trash about other people. It's supposed to be bad karma, it makes you look insecure, blah blah blah there are a lot of ways that you can try to make yourself feel good for refraining from talking trash about someone else, but the real reason I advise against it is because it's like an unwritten universal law that the second you get to that one horrible thing that's been in your head but you know you shouldn't ever say, that person will suddenly appear right behind you and hear the entire thing, and you will never get back that DVD you lent them.

Try not to outdrink everyone else at the table. You're going to feel absolutely great if you do. You'll see yourself as funny, charming, clever and - when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the bathroom mirror - damn hot to boot. That is, until the next morning when your friends won't return your calls, you open Facebook to see that you wrote "Peace out bitches" on all your co-worker's walls at 3:15 am, and the credit card slip in your purse says "Don't eat yellow snow" in the tip line. Then you're just going to feel like the asshole you were.

It Could Be Worse: A Guide to First-World Problems (for Children)

Here's a handy guide to first-world problems that you can share with the children in your life. Next time the child you own/babysit/cater to complains about his or her life, simply refer to this handy guide, which will show those spoiled brats exactly how good they have it.

First World Problem:

It Could Be Worse:

First World Problem:

It Could Be Worse:

First World Problem:

It Could Be Worse:

First World Problem:

It Could Be Worse:

First World Problem:

It Could Be Worse:

First World Problem:

It Could Be Worse:

First World Problem:

It Could Be Worse:

First World Problem:

It Could Be Worse:

MSPaint Cartoons #3: Library Infographics

You know the fat guy with the questionable apron stains?

Sometimes it seems like all the patrons I remember by name and those that my co-workers remember by name are not the same people, so I often have to resort to descriptions when relating a story or incident at work. I describe people by the way I remember them, and since my completely serious descriptions of people often make my co-workers laugh, I decided they might be worth sharing. Here are some of the ways I have described patrons... I wish they were made up for the sake of humor, I really do... but nope, I have to wait on these people frequently enough that when I describe them, everyone always knows exactly who I mean.

"You know the fat guy with the questionable apron stains?" Yeah. A short, round little man with a checkered apron and chef's cap. I call these stains "questionable" because they look like spilled milk... fine, right? Yeah, except we've caught him surfing porn on the library computers so... you see what I mean? The seemingly innocuous baking debris suddenly becomes questionable in the worst possible way.

"Not the potbellied guy with the bald head and big nose that's always really whiny, but his skinny needy friend with the greasy hair..." That pretty much sums it up, really.

"The lady who thinks her grandkids were abducted by government agents..." Often confused with the lady who thinks that aliens have taken control of peoples' brains... a la Animorphs, I guess... this woman came in one day and told us that secret government agents came into her house and "they just took them!". I am not sure if DSS took her grandkids or if she hallucinated the whole thing, but either way, it doesn't explain why she then sat down and proceeded to knit in the library, telling her story anew to any who made the mistake of sitting next to her.

"You know the crazy lady who thinks aliens are taking over peoples' brains and that the government is following her? Yeah, the one who spit on some guy's car and threatened him with a hammer. Her." She once also said the Lord's Prayer over an employee to try and cast the demons (or was it aliens?) out.

"The little hunchbacked guy with the longish white hair that's always sticking straight up who says he works for the Census even though it's been done for awhile." So the reason I was describing him at all was to let my co-workers know that he was trying to hide being on a naked mudwrestling website by minimizing it and replacing it with a Russian Mail-Order Bride site. Because that is so much less creepy?

"The guy who parked in the handicapped spot, and when someone confronted him, said it was fine because handicapped people never come out in the rain, anyway."

"The guy who summarizes that Twilight Zone episode about the guy with the books who loses his glasses literally every time he comes in, and then he asks for my name, and I give him a different one every time? You know him?" Telling him that not only have I seen that episode, but we have already discussed it, like, six times does not faze him.

"The guy who always leans over the counter and wants to firmly shake your hand on every visit." He is always taking out books about business management and networking, so I can only assume that he is just practicing.

"The big couple that used to come in all the time... the guy has the long gray ponytail and the dragon shirts, and the woman has a mullet and the boobs that she could literally tuck into her waistband, but she never wears a bra?" The reason I had to describe them was because he was playing with her boobs in the parking lot. Classy.

"The lady who speaks perfect English when she's asking for something, but the second you tell her she has overdue fines, she can't understand a word of what you're saying." There is some confusion, because there are a few of these people. I usually have to specify whether it's the elderly one, the guy who speaks in literally the whiniest voice you have ever heard, or the mother who always says her kids would never take a book like that out, even when her kid is standing there holding one from the same series.

"The father and son who look exactly alike and both have this nasally voice that are always asking about Star Wars books... sometimes you can hear some lady screaming in the background?Still not sure who I mean? OK How about this: Do you have any Stahh Wahhs books?" I wish I wasn't too lazy to attach an audio file. You need to hear these guys, or at least my spot-on impression of them.

To be continued at a later date. You didn't think that was all of them, did you? I have to laugh, because if I didn't, I would snap and then I'd be an easy target for those brain-snatching aliens.

The Truth is in the Google Search #1: Wedding Weight Loss

Party Crashers

No, I don't mean hitting up a party you weren't invited to - does anyone even do that after high school? What I'm talking about is those parties where your best friend should totally hide your keys, but both of you are too drunk to remember where you put them down, anyway. Putting off the search until the morning, where you will undoubtedly find them in either the freezer (Oh yeah! Totally left them there when I was looking for ice cream!) or in the toilet tank (Nope, no idea how they got there) is your only option.

But if proper protocol isn't followed, even one night crashing at a friend's house can lead to a situation as heated as if LiLo and Taylor Swift decided to be roommates. (Can you imagine that? "LINDSAY THAT'S FOR MY HOMEMADE SNOWGLOBES, STOP TRYING TO SNIFF IT!")

Now, you don't want that. I don't want that. And Ringo here definitely doesn't want that. So how can you avoid ruining your friendship during a booze-induced sleepover? Luckily, I've compiled some handy rules for crashing after a party:

1.) Poppin' Bottles Under no circumstances should you open a bottle of liquor you didn't bring, unless you have permission from the party host. Your drunk ass can't tell the difference between Smirnoff and Granddad's vintage scotch at this point, so don't gamble.

2.) Four more shots of Patron, don't give a fuck about goin' home Of course you don't, but shots of Patron (and other pricey liquors) are not for solitary consumption. Don't do a shot of these liquors alone - it's rude to the other party guests, but more importantly, it offends the liquor commercial gods.

3.) Been drinkin' too much for sure Yeah, we know. That's why you will be provided with a shopping-bag lined wastebasket next to your bed/couch/floor spot. In the event of an involuntary expelling of your stomach contents, every effort should be made to reach the toilet, but if it's not possible, use the basket.

4.) If the cops roll up, poor the cops a cup Seriously, don't do this. Are you fucking crazy? Promise to turn down the music and lock the door.

5.) Take a genius to understand me Here's the deal: We all pinky-swear to each other's grandiose "plans" for tomorrow, agree that together we could solve all the world's problems, and then tomorrow we pretend the whole conversation never happened. Bringing up last night's crazy scheme to scale the Rockies and then run for Congress over this morning's plate of International Pancakes is considered a party foul.

6.) Pictures of last night ended up online Don't be a dick. You absolutely cannot, under any circumstances, post pictures from this party on Facebook, unless you have the express consent of every person in the picture. No exceptions.

7.) Sorry for party rocking That's all well and good, but if you urinate anywhere besides the bathroom, we are no longer friends.

8.) You, sir, do not have a pair of testicles if you prefer drinkin' from glass While this may or may not be true, remember that no one is going to get pissed at you for cracking a solo cup, even if beer does "run down the front of [your] pack".

9.) I got the mooooooooves like Jagger No, you don't. If, during the course of your intoxication, you believe that you do, you agree that any demonstrations to that effect are subject to videotaping, but as far as sharing goes, see Rule #6 and remember that permission obtained from a drunk person is not really permission any more than a compliment from a drunk person means you really do look like Megan Fox/Ryan Gosling.

10.) In the morning, buy me eggs Depending on when and in what state of terrible hangover we all wake up, we may elect to go to breakfast together. This is completely fine and not considered an overstay of your welcome, but remember that offers to come back and maybe catch a movie after breakfast are just kind, empty gestures. We all just want to go crawl back into bed until it's dark out, so please don't take this away from your gracious party hosts.

And that's it! Obviously I can't predict every possible bit of assholery you might get into, but hopefully this handy list will help you (or your party guests) keep the basics straight. We all want to have fun, but nobody wants to spend the day after the party cleaning bodily fluids and watching The Rules of Attraction with you, no matter how much we might love you. Remember that, and I'm sure you'll be back next weekend! (Bring a bottle this time, you fucking cheapskate.)

MSPaint Cartoons #1: What Really Happened This Winter

Road Rules, Masshole Edition

So since I am a woman, I always think know that I am right, and since I am from Massachusetts, I drive like kind of an asshole. This combination leads me to believe that I am in a position to set out the Road Rules that the rest of civilization must follow, so here they are:


1) The Truth About Yield Signs. A yield sign does not magically turn into a stop sign just because a cop is parked next to it. This is especially frustrating when I am trying to merge onto a fast-moving road like the highway, or pretty much any road that I'm not stuck behind a school bus on. If they meant for you to stop at this particular intersection, they would have placed a stop sign at it. A yield sign just means that you should either a) yield to oncoming traffic (if there is any, which there never is when you stop in front of me) or b) Make the other people yield (because you are from Massachusetts, and fuck them).


2) The Fine Art of Tailgating, and How You Are Doing it Wrong. Tailgating in general is for jerks, but it is allowed under certain circumstances, which are limited to the following: a) The person in front of me is going ridiculously slow (see 3. Speed Limits for Dummies) and b) I am trying to read your bumper sticker, but the letters are printed too small, both of which are in fact your own fault. That said, being on the receiving end of tailgating is not so fun, so there are certain etiquette rules you must follow when wishing to dislodge someone who's riding your bum(per) a little too closely:

1st Line of Defense: You may lightly tap your brakes just enough to turn your brake lights on and scare the bejeesus out of the person tailgating you.

2nd Line of Defense: If Line 1 doesn't work, you may now jerk the brakes aggressively, being careful to keep your eyes on the rearview so you can accelerate reaaaally fast if your tailgater fails to notice and brake along with you. This may or may not have the added bonus of causing your tailgater to crap their pants, but it is not necessary for success.

Final Line of Defense: If you still have a tailgater, you may now crack your driver's side window down and toss a penny or two out of it. This is the most effective, but they are close enough to read your license plate, so if you care about being sued for damaging someone's windshield, you may alternatively squirt some water out of your window, or even just spray some windshield fluid and depend on the wind to bring it back to them. If this still doesn't do the trick, I guess you could graduate to larger objects such as shoes or even your first-born (provided you are not particularly attached to them of course), but I would strongly advise against this.

3)  Speed Limits for Dummies. Unless you are just visiting the area, then you know by now that "Speed Limit: 65" is a huge joke second only to "Minimum: 45". I mean, yes, technically you could legally drive 45 mph on the highway, but that would last for all of twelve seconds before someone ran you off the road so I'm not even going to go there right now. The thing is, Massachusetts highways have their own very unique speed limit system, and it works something like this:

On most highways in Massachusetts, the actual unpublished speed rules are:

 However it is worth noting that there are a few exceptions to this rule, notably the Mass Pike and I-495, as outlined in this helpful diagram:

If you are not comfortable with these rules, then get the hell off our roads, please.


4) Don't Steal Orange Barrels and Traffic Cones, Unless You Belong to a Fraternity/Sorority and Are Using Them to Decorate Your Communal Home. Enough said.


5) The Use of Crosswalks. Look, you have to stop for people in crosswalks. No one wants to, but it's really non-negotiable, except in very special circumstances as outlined below:

a) The person crossing the street has not technically entered the crosswalk yet, but is just sort of tentatively stepping in its general direction:  This is so barely illegal. Just gun it.

b) The person crossing the street looks like they are about to come over to your car and ask you for money: They are. Don't give them the chance, just drive around them.

c) You just saw that person press the button on the corner, and then just run out into the crosswalk without waiting for the light to change:  Run them over, or at least come close enough to scare them out of ever pulling that shit again. If you don't, you will spend the next light cycle violently dismembering them in your imagination.

6) The 290 Squeeze. So named for the highway on which it occurs with the most frequently every day, The 290 Squeeze is a maneuver that involves teamwork and teaching jerks who is boss. What's not to love? Basically, when there is traffic on a highway, some asshole is going to try to scoot on by in the breakdown lane, and a bunch of other assholes are going to follow suit. Then these same assholes will all try to merge in about twenty car lengths up, and you and your fellow motorists should never allow this to happen. You can prevent such an atrocity by all shifting over slightly, so that your cars are basically riding the line of the right lane and the breakdown lane. It works best if you can get a tractor-trailer truck to help. Then, when traffic clears, you can all continue on your merry way feeling like you have contributed to society, because you really, really have.


These rules above will help you learn how to better drive in Massachusetts (if you are visiting. If you are not, then obviously these were just a friendly recap of things you already know). Because I do not like to be sued for inciting violence or traffic accidents any more than I like to be sued for damaging someone's windshield, I am obligated to point out that this whole thing is a big giant joke, and you should never, ever drive the way I have outlined, except it is definitely ok and encouraged to participate in a 290 Squeeze.

 

4 Things I Couldn't Make Up

4 of the strangest, funniest and/or cringe-worthiest things I've witnessed in the last few years. Absolutely positively not made up. (Who could think this stuff up?) It was going to be 5 things but sometimes I get bored easily, and somewhere between 4 and 5 was one of those times.

1) The French Fry Liberator

While at a local diner, I ordered a grilled cheese sandwich with french fries for lunch. As I was nomming, an older couple sat down right next to me at the counter, despite there being plenty of other seats around. The woman got up to use the bathroom, then sat back down while I sat there enjoying cheesy, buttery goodness and otherwise minding my own business. Then I detected movement from the corner of my eye: the woman's finger tip-toeing its way to the edge of my plate. I looked up and met her gaze and she said, "You don't mind if I have some of your french fries do you?" to which I replied... "Yes, yes I do mind." "But," she said, "what if it was only one french fry? Can I please have just one french fry?" "Uhm, sorry, no. These are my french fries," I replied. She countered, "But surely you're not going to eat all of those french fries?" "Yes, I am," I said, "That's why I ordered them." This entire conversation took place to the background music of the toilet flushing after her foray into the diner's restroom. And then of course, I was OBLIGATED to finish every last french fry, even though I got full halfway through.

2) The Bagel Burglar

People attempting to steal my food is a common theme here, isn't it? I was in line at the Dunkin Donuts drive-through in my home town. I had just placed my order to the disembodied voice coming through the speaker, and was waiting for the cars ahead of me to drive up to the window so I could follow. I glanced down to get out my Oscar the Grouch wallet (don't judge) so I could pay, and when I looked up the way was clear. I started to drive forward, when this car comes around the corner from a few cars behind me, swerves aside and then in front of me to the window, grabs a paper bag now containing MY MULTIGRAIN BAGEL DAMMIT IT BETTER NOT BE THE LAST ONE THEY HAD and peels off! 

3) Math for Dummies

This one takes place in my hometown too - honestly this compilation is starting to make me think I should move. I was in Walgreens waiting for the person in front of me to finish checking out, and it was taking FOREVER. Honestly, I expected it to be some little old lady counting out pennies and getting seventeen rain checks for denture cream and stool softener, but it was a perfectly ordinary-looking (for a mulleted person anyway) middle-aged woman, brandishing the store's sales flyer. "You rang me up wrong," she accused the cashier, a woman probably about my own age, "This soda is supposed to be 4 for $5, but you charged me $1.25 each!" The cashier pulled out a calculator and started punching numbers in like mad. ("She's kidding, right?" I was thinking, then, "Oh wait, I get it. She's going to do the math out and show her.") Then the cashier picked up the phone. "Manager to registers," she intoned, and the manager came over. the three women hunched over the calculator together, and finally I couldn't take it anymore (plus I was kind of in a rush). "You know," I piped up, "Four items for five dollars... that is $1.25 each." I got three blank looks (okay two blank looks and a dirty look - which wasn't fair because how could this woman possibly know what I was thinking about her mullet?) and they were still punching things into the register when I checked out in a different line and left.

4) The McDonald's Diet
My fiancé and I were in our hometown McDonalds, waiting in line, when they guy in front of us gets to the front of the line and asks the which sandiwches have no fat. No, I'm not kidding. "The lower-fat sandwiches? Like the grilled chicken?" the cashiers clarifies. "No," the old guy says, clearly getting irritated, taking his hands from the pocket of his khakis to place them on his hips, "I didn't ask for the low-fat sandwiches, I asked for the NO-fat sandwiches. The sandwiches that have no fat." The cashier turns away, consults a few co-workers, shuffles through the pile of nutritional facts sheets, and smacks one down on the counter. "This lists our entire menu, sir," he says, "Everything has fat, except maybe the water and the Diet coke. Look, even the light salad dressing has fat." The old guy turns around and kind of glances around at everyone else waiting in line, I guess either to see how many people he's irritating, or maybe to make some kind of khakis-and-lumberjack-shirt fashion statement. Then he looks back at the cashier. "I don't want to eat a salad, I want to eat a sandwich. A burger, or a chicken sandwich at the very least, that has no fat." Another customer in line, maybe trying to be helpful, goes, "No fat at all? That sounds pretty strict." and the old guy gets all indignant and replies, "You would want to be strict to if all that fat was going to your heart!" Okay, okay. Ignoring the fact that it's cholesterol he should be worried about... seriously, man? McDonald's?? Then he turns to everyone in line again and goes, "This place is getting worse and worse. It's unbelievable!" to which there is only one response... "Yeah... but it's McDonald's." What the fuck were you expecting?