So, for your entertainment, below is “Advice for My Future Son” in its original entirety. 

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I got this idea for a post a while ago and I’ve been compiling it for a while. It would be stuff that I would tell a younger brother if I had one, but since I don’t, I’ll categorize as tidbits I’d pass along to my future son. If I have a son, that is. If I have all daughters, I’m sure some could apply to them. It also supposes that my future son is straight, I mean, since I’m straight, I could only give straight advice. But if the Lord deems fit that he be gay, hopefully he’ll grow up in a more tolerant world. Of course, I’d support him no matter what he is, unless he becomes a republican.  

Advice For My Future Son.

-Speak your mind, but mind your thoughts. 

-Date girls who you can make laugh. It’ll make the times you fight better.   

-Don’t compare every girl you meet to one you’ve known before. Learn lessons from all your relationships, but don’t compare notes.

-The two most complicated things in the world are love and anger. Don’t let them control you.

-In regards to women, beware the dime who likes the benjamins.

-90% of all problems you have, you will laugh at a year later.

-As far as sex goes, the first time, don’t do it just to do it. Make it worth it. Take your time, the first time, the next time, and every time. Don’t be a horn dog.

-Don’t underestimate the importance of kissing and dancing to women.

-”The key to a woman’s heart is an unexpected gift at an unexpected time.”-Finding Forrester

-Believe in Karma, shit you do will get back to you.

-Your life is not like the movies. (This includes porn.)

-Know your audience.

-Do not underestimate how much women tell each other.

-If someone wants you to go on a talk show. Do not do it.

-Life is a comedy. Laugh at everything that goes wrong. Do not take yourself too seriously.

-Don’t compare yourself to others. The only thing that can stop you in this world is too much ego or too little self confidence. Be confident, not cocky. There is a difference.

-You can’t teach chemistry. Do not force it.

-Be good to others, you never know who’ll grow up hot, smart, or rich.

-Never use “if” when referring to the past.

-If her temper is shorter than her skirt, be careful.

-Understand why other people have their own opinion, especially if that opinion differs from yours.

-West Indian Girls.

-Believe in something. Whether it be God, Krishna, Allah, or Buddha, whatever, know that not everything in the world is coincidence or luck.

-Flirt with all kinds of girls. 

-In life, whenever possible, always take the scenic route.

-Allow others to make their own mistakes. Be your friend’s eraser, not pencil.

-Be quick to admit mistakes, and quicker to learn from them.

-Listen to The Temptations, they have a song to deal with every occasion.

-Knives, guns, bombs..are nothing. There is nothing more destructive than a an angry woman.

-Once a month, go to bed pretty early. Just lie down and let your mind wander for a couple hours, and keep a notebook nearby, you’ll have the best ideas.

- Nothing more dangerous than a pretty girl. Live dangerously.

-Beware of short people.

-Trying to be cool will make you look like an idiot.

-Girls talk a lot, you don’t have to pay attention to everything they say. Its when they stop talking that you have to worry. What a girl doesn’t say is often more important than what she says.

-Listen to music everyday. Remember, there is no good or bad music. There’s what you like and what you don’t like. Same principle applies to girls. There’s ones you’re attracted to and ones you’re not attracted to. Don’t listen to critics.

-Good music is a cure for everything and anything.

-The worst pain you will ever feel is a kick in the gut without ever being touched. I hope that sentence never makes sense to you.

-Want to impress white chicks? Learn to play the guitar. 

-Do not be the other man.

-BROS BEFORE HOS!!!! If your friends and I do not like her. Trust Us!

-Love comes in many shapes, but be wary of triangles.

-Life’s too short to hold grudges.

-Do not be afraid to look like a total and complete jackass.

-These are all just suggestions. In the game of life, you make your own rules.

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Later-J.

Edit: Advice for my future daughter: Dont date anyone like your father!!

You were on your way home when you died.

It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.

And that’s when you met me.

“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”

“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.

“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”

“Yup,” I said.

“I… I died?”

“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.

You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”

“More or less,” I said.

“Are you god?” You asked.

“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”

“My kids… my wife,” you said.

“What about them?”

“Will they be all right?”

“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”

You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”

“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”

“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”

“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”

“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”

You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”

“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”

“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”

“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”

I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.

“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”

“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”

“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”

“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”

“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”

“Where you come from?” You said.

“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”

“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”

“So what’s the point of it all?”

“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”

“Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted.

I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”

“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”

“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”

“Just me? What about everyone else?”

“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”

You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”

“All you. Different incarnations of you.”

“Wait. I’m everyone!?”

“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.

“I’m every human being who ever lived?”

“Or who will ever live, yes.”

“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”

“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.

“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.

“And you’re the millions he killed.”

“I’m Jesus?”

“And you’re everyone who followed him.”

You fell silent.

“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”

You thought for a long time.

“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”

“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”

“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”

“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”

“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”

“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”

And I sent you on your way.

As some of you may know, Indian weddings can be gigantic affairs that have hundreds of guests. Most of the time, the people at the wedding aren’t even people that you want there, it becomes a political decision. Everyone is a “close family friend” and if we invite Person X, we have to invite Person Y. In the end, you’re inviting a bunch of people to satisfy your parents.

I want people at my wedding whose company that I genuinely enjoy and that I want to have a fun celebration with.

As such, and being the ass that I am, I look forward to one day sitting down with my parents and telling them who they CAN’T invite. I don’t mind being the bad guy and I’ll tell them that. However, it will be highly amusing to alienate brown people that I can’t stand in the first place.

Now, I’m nowhere close to making these decisions anytime soon, but its amusing to think about.

Besides, what did you think my reason for getting married was going to be? Love…Ha! You’re cute.

J.

I think my profile picture needs to be more accurate. As such, I’m changing my picture to the following

Am I doing this right?

Me: what

Sis: Geez calm down

Sis: how did this weekend go?

Me: JUST TELL ME!!?!!

Sis: NOTHING

Sis: GEEEZ

Me: YOU’RE SUFFOCATING ME!

Sis: so dumb

End Rant.

However, there is also the flipside. When you’re hanging out with a girl and she doesn’t tell you until you’re at the end of a conversation. That’s even worse, because she’s clearly just looking for the attention that her man isn’t giving her. Lame.

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Most of the time, I friend people on Facebook because it helps me remember their names. Real Talk.

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Get the new Foster the People album.
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You ever get the feeling that you don’t have enough time listen to all the new music that is available? I genuinely have no interest in listening to “Watch the Throne.”
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I’m feeling some wanderlust. I’m due a “fun” trip to the West Coast. I’m itching for revisiting LA, or checking out Vancouver or Portland for the first time. Also, maybe a long drive down PCH.

Later -J.

Now, yesterday was the scheduled rapture and we all had a great time joking, talking, laughing about it. But what if Harold Camping was right and yesterday turned out to be the actually apocalypse? We all dismissed him as a radical nut because we’ve experienced so many years and years of radical nuts that a lot of us now struggle what the idea of religion.

Its my firm belief that its people like Camping and other self-proclaimed know-it-alls that think they know what’s best for everyone else that ruin true spirituality.

I’m not comfortable with religion, I’m comfortable with my spirituality. Fact is, I don’t think spirituality is something that you are told, it is something that you learn and acquire through your own personal self discovery.

That’s my two cents.

As such, yesterday, I go home to my parents and I burst through the doors shouting, “I JUST CAME TO SAY HELLOOOOO!”

To which my Dad replies, “Okay..now you can leave.”

I spend 10 minutes laughing.

My Dad is filarious.