I Could Give This Post a Snappy Title, OR I Could Just Tell You That it Contains a Picture of Me With No Pants On. You Will Probably be Terribly Disappointed.

Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and talk to myself as a kid and say "guess what?  You grow up to be a rapist!" just to fuck with myself because then I'd spend the rest of my life wondering "When am I going to turn into a rapist?  Is it now?  Do I rape that person?  Why do I do it?  OH GOD, I CAN'T TAKE IT!!!" And the funny part would be that I would never actually turn into a rapist and it was a trick all along!  I forget where I was going with this...

Oh yeah, I was going to talk about how I wish I could go back in time and warn myself about stuff, but then I got distracted thinking about how, if I really could go back and talk to myself in the past, the potential for practical jokes would pretty much be endless.  Like, I could tell myself that I'm on fire! Or that every time I poop, Satan stabs God in the face and God dies and it's all my fault for being so filthy.  That would really fuck me up.

Or I could actually try to be helpful and not ruin my entire life over a cruel, albeit hilarious, joke.

Some useful advice for Allie, from YOURSELF IN THE FUTURE:

Not every black and white thing is a cow - but some of them are!

Butter tastes awesome, but it tastes much less awesome when you eat a whole stick of it by itself.

Eating too much pepper doesn't undo eating too much salt because pepper is not the opposite of salt. It's
just pepper.

When you make a fist and hold out your middle finger, adults don't think that it makes your hand look like a tank.

Ants taste bad.

So do spiders.

So does poop.

When your parents say "you are going to be a big sister," they mean that your environment will be taken
over by a needy, drooling lump that looks vaguely like a person but can't even walk or hold up its own head.

Your survival depends on either exterminating or out-competing this intruder.

And no, bribing it with toys will not make it go away.

Neither will locking it outside...

... Or hiding it in the closet ...

... Or setting it on fire - setting your sister on fire will make your parents take you to see a brain doctor.

If you don't kill it quickly enough, the intruder will start to acquire abilities - like walking, making sounds, stealing your toys and engaging in an endless string of adorable activities that your parents will videotape instead of videotaping you.

When you run in front of the video camera screaming and flailing your arms - you aren't being cute - you're just being obnoxious.  Stop it.

Doing the exact same thing as the intruder doesn't work either.  Apparently, when you crawl through the dog door, it not nearly as impressive as when the other thing does it.

Making a crayon mural in the hallway is not an acceptable outlet for your frustration and your parents won't believe that your 9-month-old sister did it.

Stealing your sister's bottle will result in the discovery that breast milk doesn't taste the way you thought it would.

Not every cat is as docile and brain-dead as your cat.  If you pick up the neighbor's cat by its tail, it will bite you and you will bleed.

Bleeding = spiderman Band Aid = awesome.

This discovery will cause you to come dangerously close to becoming a self-mutilator - a future only prevented by your infinitely wise mother, who will give you a box of Band Aids to stick wherever you want "as long as you stop cutting yourself..."

Even though Vodka looks like water, it doesn't taste like it.

Similarly, your grandmother's face cream is not frosting.  Nope, still not frosting.  ARE YOU RETARDED????  It's still not fucking frosting!  It will never be frosting!  No matter how many times you check, it will always be face cream and never frosting.

On your first day of school, your mom will tell you how exciting it is going to be - then she will start crying uncontrollably.  You will be very confused.

Naked is not for school.

Naked is still not for school the next day.

If you dig a big hole in the sand and then fill it with water and submerge your naked body up to your neck, your teachers will still find you and make you put your clothes back on.  And then you will be all wet and sandy for the rest of the day on top of not being able to be naked.

The toys at school aren't supposed to go home with you - adults call that stealing.  And no matter how attached you have become to the toy, you will have to give it back and let the other kids play with it too.

Adults will tell you that sharing is fair, and even though they have no idea what they are talking about, they will enforce the notion doggedly.  Unurprisingly, it never really seems to work out in your favor.

Adults will expect you to learn how to spell your full name, but the name "Alexandra" is really long and you don't know how to make R's.  In fact, you will be the only person in your class - maybe even the world - who simply cannot figure out R's.




"Beaner" is not an acceptable name for a Beanie Baby - especially if your Beanie Baby is a chihuahua.

Umbrellas only make Mary Poppins fly.  They don't work for regular people.

Running really fast and flapping your arms doesn't work either.

Human beings are simply not meant to fly and hitting the ground after jumping off of a roof doesn't get any easier the second time.  Your mom will stop being even vaguely sympathetic after the third time.  In fact, your mom probably will be reasonably sure that you are retarded at that point.

When someone tells you not to touch a fence because it will electrocute you, you should take their word for it.

Never poke a llama in the face.

Everyone else in the world can ride a bike - except for you.

Sitting on the bike and letting your friend push you down a big hill will not change that - it will just make you never want to ride a bike ever again

Your father will try to assuage your fears of bike-riding by letting you sit on the cross-bar of his bike while he rides slowly and safely around your neighborhood.  Despite his best intentions, your father will hit a curb and crash his bicycle - cementing your future as a bike-fearer.

Roller skates are fucking dangerous.  They don't really have brakes even though everyone is always like "No Allie, you put your heel back like this and that's how you stop..." They are just trying to trick you.  There is not actually any way to stop roller skates.

Some people are not cut out to be good at anything involving wheels.

And that's about where I'd give up.  I would sit myself down and say "Listen, punk.  There's this thing in the world called 'Natural Selection' and I'm not so sure you're 'survival material.'"

And then my past self and my future self would get in a fight and someone would get stabbed and the winner would be like "LOOK WHO'S NOT SURVIVAL MATERIAL NOW, BITCH!"

Except for no one really wins in that situation.

And that's why I stay the fuck away from time travel.





32 comments:

Grant said...

I always got in trouble for using my transformers band aids when I wasn't cut. I was Nelly before Nelly.

This post is full of crazy.

BlackLOG said...

I had my match box collection confiscated when I burnt my sister (she was and still is older, so fair game). I don't think that future me should go back and tell past me that I should not burn my sister because the danger is that future me would then still collect matchboxes. Collecting matchboxes at 7 is not a bad thing, until you burn your sister (she still talks to me through swollen lips - kidding it was her finger I burnt). Collecting them as an adult is deeply sad and disturbing and probably leads to arson… Things happen in life for a reason, you should not mess with time it will not end well, have you not seen "The Butterfly effect" …..

BlackLOG said...

I might be prepared to tell past me to put a huge bet on though and do good things for mankind with the winnings like spending it all on me....A happy me can't be a bad thing for mankind could it?

Homemaker Man said...

That was really good

Tony said...

You poked a llama's face too? Actually, I never poked a llama's face. In fact, I poked an ostrich's face. Those are vicious little turds.

BlackLOG said...

Oh and I would have to get future me to tell past dad not to buy a Betamax video recorder. It's all very well watching a superior video recording system but not much cop when you have a choice of about 5 films rather than the thousands available to people who had inferior VHS machines...While I’m at it I would also tell him not to buy the doorbell that plays 34 naff tunes, that sort of thing scars a kid for life as does dying on them when they are still young….So past dad don’t die….or if you do take mum with you…Harsh but fair I don’t see why we have to live with your mistakes.

Birdie! said...

You stop roller skates with your HEEL!?! What the fuck? They put the rubber bumpers on the front of my goddamn skates and you know what's the best way to break a tooth? To have someone put the rubber stoppers on the wrong end.

Hippo Brigade said...

wait. pepper isn't the opposite of salt?
Shit.

Rikki said...

I find it hilarious that you capitalized Band Aid but not Spiderman.

This is possibly one of the funniest things I have ever read (the whole post, not just the Spiderman/Band Aid capitalization fiasco).

Erin said...

A few things:

-What’s with your past self’s ensemble? They don’t sell swim suits in Montana?
-I used to get spanked for taking bites out of sticks of butter and then putting them back in the refrigerator, yet my younger ‘needy, drooling lump’ didn’t get in trouble for taking bites out of tomatoes and putting them back. My parents were all, “But tomatoes are healthy.” Hypocrites.
-My grandpa told me not to touch that damn electric fence, but I suck at listening. I cried for 3 hours. I don’t know if there was any actual physical pain, but one thing's for sure- my pride took a major hit.
-You’re freaking hilarious! Great post!

Ed said...

Sounds like you were a kick ass kid!

These words of wisdom should totally got in one of them "Life's Little Instruction Books", maybe for retards.

Awesome.

Steam Me Up, Kid said...

Aw, your poor little r's are making me sad. And giggle. But in a sensitive way. I want to have them all fitted for leg braces.

linlah said...

And the glass on the bathroom counter is not filled with water, it's clorox.

melissa said...

i totally can't ride a bike either. the tricky bastards.

Ms.Moon said...

Awesome! You beat the hell out of those Christian homeschool moms I read all the time. Thanks!

Nikole said...

My uncle 'taught' me to ride a bike by sending me down a hill. Two barbed wire fences later I learned that was a terrible idea.

My cousin (daughter of said uncle) once dared me to touch an electric fence. While I was standing inside a metal water trough scrubing the bottom. Did I do it? Yep.

Your attempt at the letter R reminds me of Billy Madison spelling pizza in cursive.

Ps. While it is acceptable to kill ants by stepping on them, it is not a good idea to try this on a fire-ant hill.

Unknown said...

FINALLY, someone who can't ride a bike. Now I feel like a part of something.

mepsipax said...

Oh my fucking god. You are retarded. In a cute way. But the trick with the title makes me hate you. That makes me all stabby. I laughed so fucking hard at this post.
Naked is not for school.
I have eaten a llama and been shocked by an electric fence. Not at the same time though.
Wow, I am ADD and your posts seem to aggravate it.

Matt said...

You are - really - funny. And I hope if you ever accidentally get sent back in time to battle yourself to the death, the younger version of you wins the fight. She'll be better off for it, and the odds of you still existing afterwards are way higher.

Katie said...

Roller Skates do not stop, or slow down. They have only one speed.

Death.

Sarah said...

See? I'm afraid of having more kids because I don't want to stop loving the two I have. (They're twins, so I love them the same.)

Jen O. said...

I would tell my past-self:

1) No one believes you that Starburst is medicine for your cold.

2) No one believes that the bent-out paperclip in your mouth is a retainer.

3) Most of your friends turn out to be douchbags, so dust them off now while you still have time to salvage some of your youth.

4) Guinea pigs only make good pets if you intend on ever cleaning their cage. Otherwise, you better learn to love flies. And the smell of rodent poop on your clothes.

That's about it. I'd let little-me take a few lumps to teach her a thing or two about walking with her head up, figuratively and literally.

timoteo said...

Dear Allie,

People are always asking to one another "who is the next Michael Jordan?" or "Who is the next Einstein?" or "what is the next great breakfast commodity"

I myself have been wondering who the next Rube Goldberg is.

Today's post solidified my belief that the next RG is you. Unequivocally you.

OK thanks,

Timoteo

JMH said...

You beat the hell out of Christian homeschool moms? Well, everyone needs a hobby.

Mine is following the snowplows with one of those restaurant-grade pepper grinders. I oppose safe driving conditions. No way the salt is melting that shit.

Oh. They're not opposites. You may have broken me.

dogimo said...

I pretty much do go through life wondering "When am I going to turn into a rapist?"

Keeps me on my toes.

Tara said...

Haha! Awesome advice to your past self. Learned a lot about you too...things I should probably try to forget. ;)

Sabrina said...

You are bookmarked, and I'm in love. Happy to meet you, and sorry about the jellyfish.

Alison said...

"Your grandmother's face cream is not frosting. Nope, still not frosting. ARE YOU RETARDED???? It's still not fucking frosting! It will never be frosting!"

good sh!t. I've stayed up waaay too late reading, addictive stuff. (especially all your witty commenters)

Unknown said...

I just discovered you yesterday...been reading thru all your posts...and after this and spaghatta nadle I think i love you. that is all.

Anonymous said...

You have no idea how happy it makes me to find another person who never learned to ride a bike. It makes all the years of:
"Hey let's ride our bikes there!"
"I...don't have a bike."
"Use one of mine."
"*whispers* I can't ride a bike."
"YOU CAN'T RIDE A BIKE? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?"

so much less humiliating. I love your blog.

kembial said...

That 20-pound stash of super delicious, curiously crunchy snacks under your bed is not human food. It's for the dog.

Bubblegum scented, powdered bubble bath does not TASTE just like the delicious bubble gum it suggests. It tastes like evil soap. You will forever feel deceived by Big Bird.

corynne said...

i wish i could go back in time and tell my kid self stuff like you will never ride a bike also you will only break bones when you get near them and i would also tell myself to stay away from the camera because when you get older your parents will bring them out and watch them and shame will set in... by the way the post was so funny i did tons of stuff like that when i was a kid