This is hilarious, especially if you are familiar with
the original story that it mimics - the Kurt Vonnegut
MIT commencement speech - which really turned out to
be a newspaper article and which has recently been
turned into a hit song.
Ladies and gentlemen of the class of '99:
Don't drink white zinfandel.
Even if you like it. If I could offer you only one
tip for the future, this would be it. The fact that
drinking white zin causes individuals to earn
irreversible reputations for bad taste has been proven
by sociologists the world over.
The rest of my advice, on the other hand, has no basis
more reliable than chain e-mail sent to me when I
really should have been working. I will dispense this
advice to you now.
Do one thing every day that scares the shit out of
you. Like walking into South Central L.A. with a hood
on your head.
Fart.
Don't be reckless with other people's cars, especially
if they're more expensive than your own. Don't put up
with people who are reckless with yours, unless they
have lots of insurance.
Get drunk.
Remember compliments you receive. Return insults a
thousandfold. If you succeed in doing this, tell me
how. I love a good laugh.
Keep your old love letters. The love letters will
remind you of how your wife wasn't always a nagging
bitch.
Don't feel guilty if you don't know what to do with
your life. The most interesting people I know didn't
know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives.
Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds that I know
still don't.
Get plenty of calcium. Maybe you'll be featured in a
"Got Milk" ad and make lots of money, like Steve
Young, and Jennifer Love-Hewitt.
Be kind to your knees. Be kind to your breasts.
You'll miss them when your breasts are at your knees.
Remember that you can't congratulate yourself too
much, or berate other people enough. Life is half
chance, so if you come out ahead, God must love you
more than other people.
Dance, even if you're white.
Do not read beauty magazines. Porn is much more fun.
Get to know your parents. They're always good for a
couple of bucks when you're in between jobs.
Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to
your past, and might make more money than you in the
future.
Understand that friends come and go, but Star Trek on
UPN is forever.
So are a few good friends. Work hard to bridge the
gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you
get, the more you need the people who remember you
when you had hair.
Live in New York City once, but leave before someone
ties you up in your apartment and chops your head off.
Live in Northern California once, but leave before you
start wearing leather and hanging out with guys named
"Stephi."
Burp.
Accept certain inalienable truths: You will always
work too hard, for too little money. Your wife's
boobs will sag. So will yours.
Prices will soar, and no matter how much money you
make, you won't be able to afford to buy the house you
really, really want. You, too, will get old, and when
you do, you will fantasize that when you were young
your wife's boobs didn't sag, prices were reasonable,
and you didn't care how much money you had, because
living in a filthy apartment with four other guys
off-campus with a cabinet full of Top Ramen and
Lucky Lager was all you needed.
Don't expect anyone else to support you. Unless
they're really, really rich.
Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a
wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one
will be dipped-into by someone else.
Be careful whose advice you buy, but be liberal with
supplying it. People love that. Advice is a form of
nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past
from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the
ugly parts and recycling it so that somebody else,
younger than you, can get screwed over just like you
did, and you can point and laugh.
