Sunday, September 02, 2007

Anonymous Letters To Past Selves, Part 3

It's been a while since my last Anonymous Letters To Past Selves post, so I figured it was high time to revisit this thread in lieu of finding any new web content to ridicule. The concept is that, given the veil of anonynimity, people might divulge some deep secret regrets under the guise of warning themselves of mistakes in hindsight. As always, I've weeded through the fake / joke entries and am posting, with minor exception, only the ones that seem genuine. No matter what it is you're regretting, when it gets down to it, you see we've all made some pretty stupid errors in judgment, and maybe, hopefully, we'll see that the regrets we feel burdened with are not too different from or not as weighty as those of others.

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Dear Self,

KILL JOHN CONNOR

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Dear Young Me. Stay away from computers. They will destroy your life and health. Also, that girl you'll fall in love with, make sure to talk to her earlier this time, because you'll never love anyone else, and she'll end up hating you if you don't.

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Dear Little Error (Age 5);

Don't play with scissors; you'll end up cutting your hair like a lawnmower, and then have to take Christmas pictures for your family before it can get fixed.

Beware of the black box that has 99 channels that your parents will be getting in three years. It'll give you access to porn and turn you into a nympho later down the road. This will be a bad thing and put you through a lot of bullshit. It's bad enough all the R rated movies your mom lets you watch.

Never tell your mother if you want your hair to be blonde; she'll start putting some stuff in it to lighten it, and in ten years you'll want to dye over it but the shit will still be there and you can't fix it, because the salon said it would melt your hair off. I didn't test this myself, but I don't recommend it.

Pay attention to Science class in fourth grade, and work extra hard on the test about bones, unless you want to receive the first C of your school career (and the only one until your last year of high school). Your parents will bitch a lot about this.

Also, you'll have a friend in elementary school whom everyone will ask if he's gay. He says he's not, but in tenth grade he'll come out of the closet, so don't waste your time defending him.

Don't let your family talk you into getting your hair cut short, EVER; you'll hate it and miss it and it'll take forever for it to grow back.

Learn to keep your mouth shut. From middle school until your junior year, if you say anything to someone other than your BEST friend, you'll be hearing it from someone else later. This becomes VITAL later on.

Your mom is going to get involved in an internet romance when you're in the eighth grade; she'll be moving away later. But she's still really fucking cool.

Please don't ever smoke. It may seem gross now, but if you start later you'll be addicted, and even when you quit you'll feel like you're about to die for a cigarette.

Don't get involved with those boys in your later teen years. It's really going to fuck up the best things in your life. Trust me, you'll know what I'm talking about.

Finally, take complete advantage of internet access, and always ask your friends about awesome sites. Collect as many pictures about nothing and everything as possible, they'll come in useful when you happen upon /b/.

Heed these things, they'll be useful.
Love,
Older You.

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Dear Little Error (Age 6)

Take care of your Ninja Turtles figures. They are awesome even in the future, and can make you some good cash when money's tight.

Don't trade your Masters of the Universe figures to Daniel for his X-Men figures. You'll get most of them later anyways. Besides, in the future, it's terribly hard to find a replacement Clawful.

Don't stop talking to Mario. He was a cool friend and had more games than you.

Don't cut your hair during freshman year. It grows back quick, but the condition stays shitty.

Talk to the big dude in Bio class sophomore year about one of the whores in class and her overuse of makeup. Trust me, this pays off big time.

The Star Wars prequels suck ass, but go anyways. You'll have fun lampooning them.

Patrick Stewart does get to play Professor X. Miracles sometimes come true.

Don't spend so much money on Magic cards. You'll rarely play the game.

Do go out with Becky, but don't go out with Sarah or Monica. It avoids a lot of strife.

Kick the fat guy in the balls when he punches you in the head. Mike's got your back. Trust me.

Don't sleep with Melissa. This will also avoid strife.

Wash the dishes, you lameass.

Don't overuse the intra-office email. It'll save your job. Also, stay away from the gay guy. He'll get you fired just by talking to you.

Buy Guilty Gear games before it's too late to find them outside of eBay.

Don't wait so long to talk to that girl on the bus.

Despite what you think, The Art Institute is a bad idea.

Get that thing checked out.

Don't put up with your middle-niece's shit — she stole the goddamn money, and you know it. Kick her the fuck out the next time her sumoesque boyfriend sleeps over.

Don't fail classes. It's not a lot of hard work.

Get your license early. Trust me, you'll earn profit from it.

Love,
21st-Century You.

PS Save this letter.
PPS Don't step on the butterfly.
PPPS The Protomen play in LA in October. Find a way, assmonkey.


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Dear Little Error (Age 10):

Remember the license plate number of that van.

There are a million lines better than "That's a cute dog you have. Do you want to make 20 dollars?"

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Dear Little Error (Age 14)

When he asks you out, DON'T say yes. The guy looks like Jack Osbourne but worse, and lives with seventeen cats. You aren't that desperate; a better one will be along soon.

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Dear younger self.

When you find that big Glock in your grandpa's sock drawer take it and fucking blow off your dad's head, you're 6 years old what are the cops going to do.

When you meet this black kid at Goodwill stay away from him.

When you meet Brandon Guldenschuh, stay away from him. He's a fucking backstabber.

Stay away from Lauren Lewin, her mother is a bitch and she'll grow up to be a whore, also you're gay so stop kidding yourself.

When you meet Jake Mallard you cling to him like velcro, cause its not until after you lose him you'll realize you're in love with him.

Stay away from Pokémon and Yugioh.

Control your temper, cause you'll have to hock most of your old N64 videogames to replace your busted GBA and regret it because those games kicked ass!!!

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Dear younger me

First of all: stop being such a pussy and stand up for yourself! Trust me, I know what I'm talking about when a say it's for the best. At some point you'll meet a girl from Jutland and the two of you will be together for like 9 months. While this is good and you pick up a whole lot of stuff, don't hesitate to dump her when a certain blonde from your class begins to take interest in you. At some point in high school you'll meet this emo fag who pretends to be your friend. You should completely ignore the faggot as he is only trying to get it on with your girl, and while he will fail horribly at it, he's an ass all the same. In short: find some way of making his live hell, for example by shaving his head while he's out cold at a party or something.

That was all
- Yourself in the future

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Dear younger me,

If a person on the internet called Ian tries to talk with you, disconnect your modem and delete system32.

Love,
You

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Dear younger me,

No, I don't know why you have a glasses fetish. Deal with it.

Don't have that internet relationship. Fuck your 4th girlfriend ASAP, she won't last as long as you'll hope. Find better porn sites you pussy. Don't get involved with that Japanese shit. Don't sell your Gamecube. Dane Cook fucking sucks. Stick with bass, it gets better. Do a barrel roll so your mom gets scared and says you're moving with your auntie and uncle in Bel-Air. I whistled for a cab and when it came near the license plate said "FRESH" and it had dice in the mirror. If anything I could say that this cab was rare, but I thought "Nah forget it. Yo homes, to Bel-Air!" I pulled up to a house about 7 or 8 and I yelled to the cabbie "Yo homes, smell ya later!" I looked at my kingdom I was finally there, to sit on my throne as the prince of Bel-Air!

- Older Self

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