The Worst Advice You’ll Ever Get

A fan once asked Dolly Parton at one of her concerts how she stayed so youthful. She replied with the following gem:

Clean Living. Avoid it, at all costs!

And she is RIGHT. We all try to be clean living, pay our taxes, work our jobs, see our family, keep up with friends and do right by the world. And, if asked, we say we should appreciate all of this, which we do, and this is the advice we would give to others. We want to be the best we can be.

But the world isn’t always so rewarding in return. Redundancy. Break ups. House prices. Rows. Lost keys. Ash clouds. Coalition government. Cancelled trains. Rain. If you could whisper fuck it; to hell with clean living, what advice would you really give?

Prepare to be enabled:

Fake it

We are obsessed with being genuine; you should always be ‘the real you’. The real you is beautiful, complicated, delicate, interesting and loveable. But the real you can also be nervous and insecure, which can really fuck things up when you need to be brimming with confidence making that work presentation/ walking into that party on your own/ seeing your ex for the first time since breaking up.

You shit yourself. The real you screams and bolts through the back door of your mind, leaving you standing there helpless and sweaty. What do you do at a moment like this? You fake it. There is nothing wrong with faking it. Everyone does it, and if used in the right way it can catapult you out of social corpsing and gloss over the cracks of the stunningly real you.

The next time you feel the nerves clattering up your back making you feel a little nauseous, throw yourself momentarily off and become Gaga, Liza, Obama, whoever the fuck you need to take control and jackknife yourself across the threshold. Once there, you should put said persona away again, or people truly will hate you.

Splurge

Yes. Do it. Sometimes, and only sometimes, you must be a rebel without a cause. We are very adept at buying presents for other people but find it much harder to justify buying things for ourselves. There are certain items we wouldn’t dream of getting; the £200 jacket when the Primark replica is only £19.99. The £300 chair you’ve been looking at for the last 6 months but can’t quite commit that much money on a chair.

Once in a blue moon, throw caution to the wind, strut into that shop and tell that assistant nice and loud “That, I want that, fuck the cost! I want it!” It is amazing. You panic, Liza and Gaga are nowhere to be seen, your rationalizing conscience is going insane and you’re a hair’s breath from running screaming into the street whilst trying not to let any of this show to the assistant. But, you know you won’t be doing it again for a long time and the adrenaline rush feels like Christmas. And remember, you fucking deserve it!

Fuck

Regularly. Don’t’ put it off because you feel fat, frumpy, tired, or not suitable for human consumption. Don’t put it off until you’ve bought that new top or had that extra work out session; if you can fall in love on the tube with someone looking ragged from work and want to plough them like a mother fucker then someone will be thinking exactly the same thing about you. Thank god for subjectivism. We were never meant to fancy ourselves, so leave your beauty in the eyes of your beholders. Women, take note. Eight months I worked with a girl who was as emotionally taught as a whippet and finally with some backdoor, I’ve never seen her so calm.

Do Your Hair

It makes all the difference in the world. It’s one of the quickest fixes past a wank that can instantly lift your mood. Shave it, braid it, dye it, and if you get it wrong, it WILL grow back. So grow up. Grow some balls. Chop in a fringe and LOVE it.

Dance

Buy a big mirror. Grab a hairbrush. Put the stereo on as loud as your neighbours can handle and then GO FOR IT. You don’t need rhythm. You don’t need pitch. You just need you. If you’re not exhausted and panting by the time you’ve finished, you’re not doing it right. Go back and do it again.

Ditch your clothes

Wardrobes are not wardrobes, they are time machines. 1992 is hiding back there somewhere and not the fun side of it. Throw back the doors, grab handfuls of its contents and throw it on the floor. Now how are you going to get your new splurge purchases in there with all that shit filling it up? Get brutal. No ‘maybe’ pile. If it’s too small, bin it. Don’t threaten clothes with weight loss, they don’t care. If it’s been in there too long, give it away. People want to smell the sex on you, not dust. Do the same with your shoes. We have a tendency to fill empty spaces, and before you know it, your wardrobe will be a much happier, fuller reflection of you.

Run Away

Life is not an endurance test. You don’t get a medal for developing a hunch, carrying it all on your shoulders. Before you know it, your life can feel like automated tour of mediocrity and all you do is long to climb into someone else’s backpack and hope it’s going somewhere warm.

Some beautiful words exist for this. Escape. Break. Elope. Emigrate. Holiday. Go somewhere, anywhere; get out of your routine and see friends, the country, the sea, wherever draws you at the time. Heading to the folks for some cooked food and clean washing is just as nourishing as hopping on a plane for a couple of days recharge. Your mind can feel like a coiled box if you don’t stretch it out once in a while, give it somewhere new to explore, some new crayons play with and views to absorb.

Clean living; avoid it at all costs. Breaking the rules sometimes can be fun. Breaking your own is genius.

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3 comments
  1. Lis said:

    Genius Mr R, genius xx

  2. sethstromboli said:

    LOVE this…truly great advice!!! ;0) x

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