A lot of people love to give advice. It certainly isn’t always welcome, but it can be beneficial. At other times, however, it can be downright funny…or strange.
Some of the tips I’ve heard over the years:
“Never lend money to an actor.”
“Don’t eat bacon on a Tuesday.”
“Don’t wash your hair in washing up liquid – if you go outside and it rains, your head with froth up.”
“Park under a tree? You’ll be cleaning ‘til three.”
What’s the best, worst or oddest advice you’ve received?
Best advice is to always first add your own comment to your own thread to get it going
Never ever bloody anything ever.
Tell that to Rambo
And Earle Haas.
Never Eat Shredded Wheat.
Why? I like Shredded Wheat. There’s nothing better to start your day than brillo pads with milk on.
Actually, I think that was Cub Scout thing for remembering the points of the compass
Cub Scouts! It were all wolf cubs in my day!
Chase the rabbit round the tree and back down the hole was a way to remember how to tie a knot, but I’m not sure which one now. LORAUROLAU how to tie a reef knot.
BODMAS
Dib dib dib!
Dyb dyb dyb!
Chase the rabbit is a bowline.
I’ve never needed to tie a bowline in my life … but I know how to do it.
We know a song about that.
@Rigid-Digit why not tie one for old times sake.
I don’t think I’ll be taking any more advice from that Kid Creole…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m1zams6IaHA
More an old saying than a piece of advice, but I’ve always been struck by the absurdity of “ne’er cast a clout ’til May is out” (ie don’t take off any of your winter clothes until June). I have this image of some old timer battling his way to the shops on a baking April afternoon wearing a three-piece suit, collar and tie, overcoat and scarf, probably with a woolly vest and long johns underneath it all, sweating like a farm animal, but refusing to remove any of his layers because it’s not June yet.
Baking April? Not this year, pal. The being-able-to-meet-indoors rule was a relief on May 17th because it was still bloody nithering.
I think I saw him today. He is still struggling to get home after going down the bookies in April
Think he was quite lucky, children used to be ‘sewn up for the winter’ (rubbed with goose grease or whale oil, their flannel underwear sewn on until Spring
“till May is out” actually means until May blossom appears. If it’s a warm spring you can take your coat off in March
I love these old dudes in Italy, Greece etc, who have jumpers on, under their suit jackets, and over their thick flannel shirts and, probably, a vest. And, of course, a flat cap. In July through August, whilst hardy northern europeans toast, near naked, on the beach.
There’s a woman in our village who I swear does not remove her puffa jacket until somewhere in late July it gets to 40C.
We’re just approaching that time of year when you start thinking “Wish I was in Ballater and it’s raining and it’s 18 degrees…”
Oddly enough, a box turned up in the post this morning, a (3 months) late birthday present from France, containing a posh photo album full of photos from our last “clan gathering” in Ballater (August 2019).
In every single shot, the sky is slate grey and it is pissing down. Heavenly.
I spoke to my man in Chennai yesterday, it was 4 degrees C hotter in Cambridge.
In England if the sun is out for more than six consecutive minutes the most grotesquely fat white men in every town are required to parade up and down crowded streets with their shirts off. Extra points for a tattoo that looks like it’s been drawn by a toddler with a wax crayon.
…and for reasons unknown, conspicuously holding their car keys.
Status symbol. “I might not have a shirt, but I do have a car. “
All tattoos eventually look like they’ve been drawn by a toddler with a wax crayon. Then they go onto the “horse bite” look. If I had my time again, I’d train in tat removal. There must be millions in it.
There’ll be a machine soon, like those spray tan things but a bit more hardcore. The Chinese are probably on it.
This happened to my maternal grandfather. When he got his first wage, the first thing he bought was his own underwear and put his name tags in. His mother promptly removed these. He was seen as getting a bit ‘up himself’.
Aha! I just searched this thread for the word ‘clout’, as this is my favourite bit of ancient wisdom/gobbledegook too! My wife has a little book* called ‘Weather Lore’ by Richard Inwards that she is very fond of quoting on the occasion that the weather has done something odd.
* she gave it to me for Christmas actually, twenty odd years ago, but has kept it on the bookshelf next to her side of the bed ever since, so that she can quote obscure nonsense at the first sign of rain/sleet/Hawthorn flowers/oak or ash tree leaves/sunshine etc.
Best: “Just remember, Mike, bullshit baffles brains. Got me through World War Two that did.” Given to me by Cyril Green, my driver, when I gave up a promising career as a bus conductor to go to university. I was soon to discover that as far as University was concerned, it was also the worst advice…
“Don’t look where it should be…look where it SHOULDN’T be!”
Bloody stupid advice. Where are my sunglasses? I suppose I should not look where I normally keep them…but no, apparently I should travel to Ulan Bator and ask the first newsagent I see if he has them down his trousers.
“It’s always in the last place you look”
Which is both factually correct, and bloody stupid.
Of course it is in the last place – why continue searching when you’ve found it
Did it make you smile a little, though?
I am always losing things and getting into a panic about it, so I quite often continue looking after finding what I’m looking for as part of the calming process. It’s the unique things – phone, wallet, passport – that are the worst, of course. Finding an apple in an orchard doesn’t have that same effect – I could stop when I’ve found the first one, or I could keep on looking until I’ve found the apple over and over again.
I woke up before sunrise for work recently and gathered my things silently without waking Mrs BC. I used the light on my phone to find my car keys and other things – but I couldn’t find my phone! Where IS it? The penny dropped eventually.
Hahaha!
I’ve been there. These questions of memory and attention really interest me, not least because my father is losing both due to Parkinson’s and my wife is an OT specialising in ADHD. Dopamine and other brain chemicals and the role of different parts of the brain in short and long term memory storage are fascinating. Brain science still seems in its teenage years, while public understanding and absorption into culture are in their infancy.
It does seem to predict a Copernican-level transformation of our understanding of human identity.
That reminds me of the time I got to work, took of my hat and put it on the desk, took out my reading glasses and placed them on the desk, and finally reached into an inside pocket for my phone. When I saw that I had a new text message I put the hat back on my head then stared at the phone for a few seconds wondering why I still couldn’t read the message.
If he did, would you want them back? I think not.
When the ex was pregnant with the boy, my daughter will have been 4. I’d been telling her that when her brother or sister starts moving about she will have to be very careful what she leaves lying about. For instance, a baby might choke on a marble. Aimee put on her serious face and gave a piece of advice that I will certainly never forget, and something that everybody should keep in mind. “You should never play Ker-Plunk with a baby”
From Keith Richards (not directly *from* him): “There’s a difference between scratching your arse and tearing it to pieces”.
A few years ago, McCartney was asked what he’d tell his 18 year old self: “Calm dowwwwn”.
Dunno why, but both have stood me in good stead dealing with my teenage students.
“Never put anything smaller than your elbow in your ear” is frequently offered to my punters.
Also McCartney: “There are seven levels”.
That shit is, like, heavy.
I do like that one.
One from Frank, my plumber of choice (his brother is a colleague of mine):
“Shit don’t run uphill.”
Quite profound if you think about it laterally as well as literally.
Laterally? Shit rolls. Just ask a dung beetle.
From Frank Zappa, on the subject of religion:
“Just remember. There’s a big difference between kneeling down and bending over.”
And an observation that probably applies to all other performing musicians too:
“Most people who come to my concerts wouldn’t know good music if it came up and bit them in the ass.”
“Culture eats strategy” (in a business context.)
“A good burger beats a bad steak.”
“Never stay in any hotel named the ‘Station’ or ‘Majestic’…”
Pertinent words from my older bro to get through an Australian summer…
“When it’s hot, and there’s no cool…be cool”
I grew up in a Christian household. To attain JOY=Jesus first, Others next, Yourself last
I don’t think this is good advice.
Never extend credit to any business called Phoenix or Firebird.
Never play poker with a man called Doc
… and somewhat related: “If you’re playing poker, look around the table – if you can’t see a sucker, it’s you…“
Let no man steal your thyme.
That’s very specific. Is everything else fair game? Here, have my bank cards but stay the hell out of my herb garden.
Actually, you can have the rosemary. And you can fuck my wife too if you want.
Very sage.
Is Mrs Moose called Rosemary?
A former colleague advised me when I told him I’d got a new job…
“Don’t fiddle your expenses and don’t shag your staff.”
Wise words I have kept to for 22 years.
“Former” colleague…. he spoke from experience then….?
No, he was my colleague until I left for the new job.
He’d never have done anything like that. Splendid chap.
Indeed, not least as some years ago I had to fire a guy who had been shagging a co-worker and claiming the costs of the hotel rooms and meals that were part of their assignations back from the company. The best bit being to get the expense claims through, he had to say who he’d been dining with. My name came up several times, despite me not actually being in the country when he claimed we’d met.
Some peopel are idiots. I had to investigate someone in Sales who had expensed a hotel.
Who had on the bill “Cuffs and champagne weekend special”.
He had been there with a woman who was not his wife.
It’s probably a separate thread. I had to hear an appeal from a guy who had been given a final warning for watching porn on his work computer. His defense? His wife had forbidden it at home. Didn’t seem impressed when I told him he was doing well just to get a final.
“This isn’t Whitehall pal, this is the real world!”
“The first fifty years are the worst”. Advice given to me by an elderly work colleague when I was a sixteen year old apprentice.
Dad once said something along the lines of ‘don’t go in pubs with military names’.
One of mine: Never go in a pub with a flat roof.
Never go in a pub with bouncers on the door.
Although in theory, they are safer than the ones without.
Pubs without bouncers or pubs without a roof?
I follow that advice, too. Although I’m now teetotal so barely enter any drinking establishment, whatever the roof construction.
There were three flat-roof pubs in nearby Bridgwater, two of which have been flattened for housing, the other becoming a T*sc* Metro. The only surviving pub with a military-ish name has always looked dreadful, pumping out lumpen Bridgwater-rules, stick-pocket blues-rock.
There used to be an underground pub called The Chequers in a 60s shopping centre in Uxbridge. The roof was totally flat, as in the pavement. There were also a few bars in London Underground stations around the centre.
There’s a pub in Falmouth called – I think – The Drift, which is the ground floor of a harbourside building, with very few windows. The decor is basically you-can-hose-it-down gloss white, but oh the wondrous selection of beer and cider. No food, but you can bring your own in with no ‘corkage’. Above it is a fab fish and chip shop. Bliss.
There’s another pub there called Beerwolf, which is half-pub, half-bookshop.
I neglected to say that although a shopping centre, it wasn’t indoors, so the thirsty punter walked across a rain soaked concrete arcade, before descending the depressing steps underground. I think I may have gone there once in the early 80s when I was just old enough to drink. If so, it didn’t warrant a second visit.
Nice. There used to be a basement bar in Taunton, which had the cover art from In the Court of the Crimson King painted across one wall.
“Never eat in a pub that advertises Sky Sports”.
Never drink in a pub that advertises Sky Sports…..
Never drink in a pub with a huge T for Tennants hanging outside.
My nan was full of these.
The only one that, unbeknownst to her 40/50/60 years ago, would prove to be wrong in 2021 is “You get what you pay for.”
Never watch a band whose name sounds like a vending machine condom: Fyremist – that kind of thing
I think it was Frank Zappa who told me, “Don’t eat yellow snow. “
I suppose this may have been around for ages, but I hear it more frequently these days and it seems increasingly pertinent: “If you’re not paying for it, you’re not the customer; you’re the product being sold.”
“Never trust a Tory” has not yet failed me.
I tried to conserve a tory once, but it got very hot until I pulled down the blinds.
Threw up on the way out.
Vomit tory
I had one put the windows in my loft conversion.
Dormer tory
Cynthia Payne saw many a Tory trussed.
I used a farmyard fowl to entrap a conservative, a case of chicken cacciatore.
“if you’re in a fight, finish it quickly. Don’t fight fair”
Thanks Grandad.
“Balls and eyes not cheeks and chin”
Belly and nose.
I got into a fight at school once. Well, more than once, but I digress.
An annoying prat was being annoying and I warned him that if he persisted, dire retribution would follow.
He persisted.
I followed Grandad’s advice – punch to the belly and then knee him in the face on the way down.
Done and dusted in about 5 seconds.
Cue visit to Deputy Head, who asked what had happened.
I explained the moral justification for my actions, as well as the multiple warnings that had been given.
“But why did you knee him in the face?”
“Well sir, my Grandfather once told me…”
He couldn’t help smiling. The fact I was about 5’5″ and I’d msacked someone 6′ who was loatehd throughout the school no doubt helped my case.
Heads are not daft. The one time I got into trouble was for lifting the short, fat, year bully up off the floor by the lapels and hooking his blazer onto a coat peg (with him still inside it). I punched him hard in the knackers and left him hanging there, arms and legs flailing, sobbing, and went off to my lesson.
I was 5’10”, about 7 stone, and showed no previous ability in weightlifting.
He’d been taking the piss out of my pal James, who had a cancer which caused skin to grow between his fingers, giving him webbed hands.
When I explained to the Head why I did it, he smiled and marked my book with “ripped another boy’s blazer”.
…. but fentonsteve – I thought you were supposed to be dull. That doesn’t sound very dull at all!
I was usually on the receiving end. For being dull. Except for that one time I got a kicking for scoring 98% in my Physics exam.
I came bottom of my entire year in physics. I won’t say I was carried around in a sedan chair, but it didn’t do me any harm.
I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s finding all this untameable brute manhood terribly arousing.
The advice re: fighting that’s usually stood me in good stead is
“If there’s a choice between fighting and running away, always seriously consider running away”.
…successfully dear boy, running away successfully. Running away unsuccessfully will lead to the kicking of a lifetime.
Run away bravely!
Part of the consideration of running away is the prospect of success.
Mum’s Mums advice. “Anything goes that’s put.”
Advice from the squaddie husband of a colleague, when I worked in a factory next to an army base:
“Whip it in, whip it out, and wipe it on the curtains.”
I don’t think this is recommended medical advice.
No, some curtains are made of man-made fabrics that can chafe.
Are… are you guys ok?
Never start a thread on the AW if you don’t want a hamper full of Corsair Tinned Chicken.