Ad­vice, or words a wise­crack­ing old man once said

Austin American-Statesman - - METRO&STATE - John Kelso’s col­umn ap­pears on Sun­days, Tues­days and Fri­days. Con­tact him at 445-3606 or jkelso@states­

Wish me a be­lated happy birth­day. On Wed­nes­day, I turned a ripe old 66. Wait, 66 — isn’t that a road? And at what point does “ripe old” be­come “turned?”

Still, with age comes pearls of wis­dom, or at least clumps of cu­bic zir­co­nia. So as a pub­lic ser­vice, I thought I’d share some of my fa­vorite life lessons. No need to take notes, though. None of this stuff will make you chair­man of the board:

Never take in­vest­ment ad­vice from a guy driv­ing an ’84 Ter­cel.

Any­body who ap­proaches you in a gro­cery store park­ing lot for money so he can buy gas to get back to Fri­ona prob­a­bly doesn’t have a car to put the gas in.

Don’t ex­pect much at a bar­be­cue place that cooks with gas.

There are two an­swers to the ques­tion, “Where’s the best place to put the cat box?” 1. There is no good place to put the cat box. 2. Uzbek­istan.

Re­mem­ber that if you keep the weeds in your yard mowed short, it al­most looks like a lawn.

No mat­ter how much big­ger your pay­check grows, some­thing will come along to eat it up. As soon as your mort­gage is paid, your ex will find you and de­mand child sup­port.

If some­body sends you an e-mail that says, “This is re­ally hi­lar­i­ous,” it’s prob­a­bly not. If some­body sends you an e-mail that says, “You have to read this,” you prob­a­bly don’t.

De­spite what they say, just be­cause 18-wheel­ers are parked out front of a diner doesn’t mean the food is good.

Avoid any mo­tel that brags on its sign about the air con­di­tion­ing.

Any­body who uses the ab­bre­vi­a­tion LOL for “laugh out loud” is prob­a­bly ly­ing.

Most of your real friends aren’t your so-called friends on Face­book.

If the doc­tor says, “This is go­ing to pinch a lit­tle,” it’s go­ing to hurt like ham­mered carp.

“This will just take a minute” means this will take at least five.

Don’t get in a bar fight with a guy known as Psy­cho.

The best way to get ser­vice at a “big box” hard­ware store is to fake a heart at­tack.

Avoid shop­ping where the “sales team” wears match­ing T-shirts.

Never or­der the chili in Min­nesota, Iowa or Ohio.

Don’t bet against a guy in a beer joint who claims he can bal­ance a chicken egg on the end of his nose, or some such thing. He prob­a­bly makes a liv­ing at it, and keeps a lay­ing chicken in the back of his truck.

Don’t start run­ning when the po­lice show up, be­cause they’ll chase you.

It’s a waste of time to dis­cuss the Can­ter­bury Tales with a man who an­swers to Road­hog.

Don’t make ma­jor de­ci­sions based on for­tune cook­ies.

Never shoot pool for money with a guy who brought his own cue.

And, fi­nally, rarely is any­thing de­scribed as “to­tally awe­some” more than mildly amus­ing.


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