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Remember to celebrate your mom this weekend

Mother’s Day is this weekend. You should get her something nice, like a crisp $50 bill. Think of what she could do with that kind of money. She could get one of the windshield wipers on her car fixed at the dealership. She could buy three grams of chocolope or purple diesel from the long-haired gentleman down the street. She could put the whole bill down the pants of some nice young man down at the docks.

Maybe I’ll get something nice for your mom. Have you seen The Graduate?

All mom jokes aside, you should definitely get something for your mom this weekend. It’s Mother’s Day, after all, and your head is huge. She had to work to get you out. That was probably eight months of pilates afterward. The woman earned it. Reward her for the troubles you caused.

You may be stupid, but the world still has a plan for you

Cats are smarter than dogs. It’s a scientific fact. That’s why dogs are so much more fun. Cats are smart enough to know they’re being imprisoned in your home, so they mostly mope around. “Oh, you put food in my bowl? Maybe I’ll get around to eating it, if I feel like it.” Dogs are dumb and treat every meal like the greatest event in history. One of these reactions is fun. The other is not.

The same is true for people. Stupid people are more fun than smart people. Sure, Stephen Hawking is interesting, but he’s not tearing up the dance floor at Stargate. He’s not sneaking a backpack full of Four Loko into Coachella. Hawking doesn’t bang chicks without a rubber and a solid game plan. Hawking doesn’t spray paint huge dongs on billboards. At least not that we know of.

Long story short: The dumber you are, the easier it is to have fun. If you don’t believe me, ask your good friend alcohol. It’s designed specifically for that purpose. Beyond booze, intelligence is a trade-off: You can have these extra brain cells, but you also have to take these inhibitions.

750 pieces of advice for new graduates

It’s been seven long years of undergraduate studies, and your parents are finally forcing you to graduate. The real world contains no real jobs, so you’re doing your best to stay in the collegiate womb. “Prostitution is on the upswing amongst new graduates, dad. Can’t I stay in school and take creative writing and athletics coaching courses for one more year?” The charade is all for not. You’ve accumulated $4.7 billion in personal student loan debt. It’s time to spend the rest of your life working it off. Welcome to America and its modern form of slavery.

Perhaps you’d like some tips? I don’t actually have 750 of them, but I’ve seen a lot of articles offering 10 or even 24 tips for new graduates, so I figured 750 tips would impress the hell out of people. There’s your first tip: Lie about everything. You have no skills or experience. Our public school system has left you dumb and underqualified. Our society has left you selfish and unreasonably horny. Your only chance to be successful in life is to lie about everything that makes you a person. Stop playing by the rules! The 2014 workplace is a Thunderdome.

Here are some other upbeat tips that won’t depress you:

Bipolar OCD craps

Roll the dice. Six. Not a good number. Since it’s even, I’ll go to work today. One: The dog crapped on the floor while I was in the shower. Two: The dog also has diarrhea. Three: I’m late to work from cleaning up this trail of horror leading to his hiding place under the coffee table. Four: I have 107 e-mails in my work inbox. I have zero in my personal inbox. Five: There’s only one restroom at work and someone’s been in there for an hour. I’m tempted to just do what my dog did, but Minnesotans are too polite to relieve themselves in front of crowds. Six: The dog went to the bathroom in his crate and slipped and fell in it, or at least I hope that’s how it happened. Seven: He then bit me when I tried to give him a bath. Off by one, dice. Not too shabby, dice.

Roll the dice. Four. Since it’s even again, I guess I’ll got to work. Again. One: A production assistant I used to work with, and hate with a feverish passion, just got a job as a TV writer. That ups the count of professional TV writers who dislike me to 743, while the number who think I’m a swell guy remains at a steady zero. Two: Forgot to put on deodorant this morning. Since I’m broke, I’ll wait until someone notices and mocks me for it before I pay $7 at the gas station for some. Three: Boss still hasn’t done my “annual” review. It’s nearly 10 months late. I could have become impregnated, birthed the baby and also taken it to Sears and had its portrait taken by now. I do not bring this up to him because I’m Minnesotan and we’re bred to be very polite doormats. Four: There was no four. Hmm. Usually when I’m one short, I count Blink 182 still being a band as the extra one. They probably wrote another song today.

Girl drink drunk

Well hello there, Sutter Home Pink Moscato “wine”. I see you there on the corner of my work desk, looking all pink and feminine. I see you every day, but never taken the time to say hello. To be honest, I always thought of you as a bit of a joke. But there’s something different about you today.

You’re not normally my type, as I’m a grown man with dignity and self respect. But it’s 95 degrees outside and the air conditioning at work is broken. Small beads of condensation are running down your classy plastic bottle. Your cap is pink and unopened by any other man.

Pardon the old cliched pickup line, but is it hot in here, or is it just you?