Ladies and gentlemen of the class of ’99: drink beer!
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, beer would be it.
The long-term benefits of beer have been proven by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience
I will dispense this advice now:
You are as fat as you imagine. You really do look like your driver's license picture; Do something about it! No one wants to date a fat pig! If inserting a seven-inch iced tea spoon down your throat to induce vomiting is what it takes... Well, then, so be it!
Do one thing everyday that makes your mother ashamed. Don't floss. Wayward pieces of parsley and beef in your teeth really don't look that bad.
You've already had your turn of living in New York . So leave! Now! You're wasting space and breathing up all of our oxygen! Go live in Northern California, but leave before you simultaneously die in an earthquake and a gang related shooting.
Sometimes you'll be ahead. Sometimes you'll be behind. Sometimes you'll be on top. Sometimes you'll be on bottom.
Smoke cigarettes with reckless abandon. When your speaking through a hole in your throat, you can always sue the tobacco company and claim: “I did not know it was bad for me!”
After all, ill-gotten game is what it's all about.
Maybe you'll marry. Maybe you won't. But most likely you'll end up divorced, with a litter of children who have eight different mothers, spending the rest of your life selling rip off Gucci bags outside court authority to pay off alimony and child support.
Don't even try to dance! You're a guy, for God's sake! Not even the electric slide at a wedding! Read GQ magazine and strive to look like the guy on the cover. Undergo elective reconstructive plastic surgery, including lipo suction and penis enlargement.
Make fun of old people! It's fun!
And understand that friends will stab you in the back for price of an extra value meal, and the flame broiled isn't always better.