I know that the majority of people who read this book, at least initially, are holding it in one hand and scratching their heads with the other. Of all the people in the world, why would I be the one to write a book? What’s gotten into me? Writing a book takes a lot of time, and most of that time is in one place behind a keyboard; NOT my favorite place to be. Seriously, I understand, and I’ve already done the hard thinking to prepare for the immediate concerns.
“If Dave writes a book it’ll be a thousand pages and consist mostly of fart jokes and reasons why we should all buy into the logic he’s too pale for his own good. “
I realize that I don’t have a very good track record as an author. I mean, the lengthiest piece of literature I had ever composed before sitting down to write this book was a little jingle I wrote on a roll of toilet paper in the bathroom of a Buffalo Wild Wings so I could remember everyone’s order. I’m not Shakespeare, Stephen King, John Grisham, or your mom. Albeit, I have a glorious set of boobs (as does your mom.)
As you can see, I don’t expect you to take this book seriously. (or any jokes that I crack about your mom, or her glorious boobs. Please don’t hurt me.) There will be slips of the tongue… err. keyboard… along the way. My writing style might drive most proofreading editors crazy. But, mark my words. I’m going to include all of my thoughts along the way. I’m not going to let some editor named Herb sweep all the good stuff to the chopping room floor just to be appropriate or stay within some kind of social norm.
Considering I’m writing the book that I’ve always wanted to read, I have to make sure this thing is different than any other book you’ve ever read. (It’s a little easier because I’m writing it in crayon) It’s going to take you to places in my head that I don’t think most people even know exist. That’s why I’m starting this book by laying out some very specific ground rules.
I’m being informed that every author does that at the start of their book. Whatever do you mean? Okay, so there may be some similarities along the way. It is literature after all.
First of all, I want you to be entirely comfortable when reading this book. Take off your shoes, loosen your pants, take a shot of whip cream straight from the can. Pass the book around to your relatives, and start a book club with the girls down at the gym. You can even make cool name tags with made-up nicknames on them. Mine is “Captain Mega-pale.” Yours can be “Mr. Dockerbottoms.”
Remember to take it easy. Pace yourself. Stay calm and relaxed. On the other hand, if you’re reading this in a more public place, like a plane, a hospital waiting room, during a custody hearing for your pet Chihuahua, or with your coworkers while the boss is out it might serve you better to be a little less comfortable. It might also serve you to know that 90% of all corporations monitor their employees’ online activity so you’re really not sneaking around the boss as much as you think you are. While I’m at it…
“Hi Mr. Jones. Mary is a great employee. I promise to make sure this book motivates her to become more productive and dedicated to her daily tasks. I promise!”
Keep all hands and legs inside the car until we’ve come to a complete stop. Prepare exact change. And, please, no flash photography. (GRR! You scurvy pirate!) Women who are pregnant or are expecting to become pregnant should consult their doctor before reading any further as it may result in an increase in blood pressure and excitability. If you notice a change in your mood or begin to develop thoughts of spreading vanilla ice cream all over your face like a geisha and parading around town like you own the planet, completely go with it. No need to thank me for your newfound liberties, just send me money. These, my friends, are the ground rules.
Some people say that all the free time I’m using to write this book should be used relaxing on the couch, watching some Directv. And while the thought of owning a tiny giraffe and affording myself that tangible luxury is nice, I personally think I should spend my time taking a nap. I could dream of cute little creatures who speak gibberish and think I am their master. That sounds wonderful. It’s a shame that I can’t sit still long enough to do either of those two things. It’s a miracle I’ve had the ability to sit here long enough to write an entire book. Okay, truthfully, I didn’t write this whole book in one sitting. Heck, I didn’t even write the first paragraph without being interrupted by some off-the-wall fascination. My mind has a weird way of working.
Here’s a short list of some things that have trailed through my brain in the process of writing just this one introductory chapter.
Cowbells. The use of Ranch Dressing on pizza. The scene where Leopold is filming the commercial for butter and absolutely hates it. Afternoon Delight! Why clouds are puffy and wild on top but are always perfectly flat on the bottom. The various varieties of the color red. Scarlet. Crimson. Candy Apple. If airplanes are so safe, why do they call the place they land “terminal.” Today, I stabbed a man in the heart with a trident. People who block me in elevators because they’re too involved in the book they’ve been reading all morning. (Excuse me, friend. That’s me in the back, tapping your shoulder. This is my floor. Thanks.)
I have a lot to give the world. Okay, that’s not true. I don’t really have a lot of insight or incredible theories, but don’t think I haven’t noticed that they always raise the price of gas on Wednesdays. I know there’s something behind that. There has to be.
I’ve been interested in getting a better understanding about certain things in life. I assume we all are interested in getting some answers. Judging by the number of books that are sold that claim they have some kind of answer, if not ALL the answers, you could definitely say people are searching for something. I suppose this book could be where I write down my own thoughts about what I think is a good start to living a content and satisfied existence. That is, if you don’t mind taking advice from a crazy loon. What’s that? You’re in? Oh. Well then, here’s my top five secrets to life.
Number One: Be Nice. Even if you don’t want to, and even if you might not like someone, be incredibly gracious. Sure, it may feel like you’re wasting a lot of energy and good fortune on the world’s largest douchebag. That’s still no excuse to be drug down to some low-life’s level. Besides, everyone knows that the best way to get under the skin of an arrogant poophead is to shower them with kindness.
Let’s say you’re someone who values utmost honesty, above all else. Being nice doesn’t mean you have to lie to someone. In the case you have to be entirely honest with someone, avoid being a jerk. Fireback, but be fair and entirely honest in your criticism. If you’re going to let someone have it, make sure “it” is spot on with the truth. There’s no need to exaggerate. No fluff, no artistic flare, just brutal honesty will do.
Number Two: Moisturize. It takes the edge off your gritty handshake, and it keeps you from looking like a California Raisin by the time you’re fifty. It also smells incredible. Nobody wants to hug grandpa if he feels like a belt-sander and smells like prune juice.
Number Three: Quiet Time. I know this one is hard. You don’t have to tell me. It’s getting nearly impossible to find silence with the TV, radio, kids, iPods, leaf-blowers, helicopters, traffic, birds, dogs, or when your grandma is yelling from the back of the car, “Stop rubbing lotion on your face and pay attention! You’re gonna get us all killed!” This might actually be the last time she asks you to drive her to the doctor’s office. Circle gets the square!
Number Four: Exercise. I realize that when you read this one, you are beside yourself. I’m not big on exercise either, as you can tell by looking at me. Really, any type of movement will do. Stretching will keep you limber, young, and energized. It will also help you reach your feet long enough to tie your shoes. Trust me on this one. My favorite exercise is walking to the mailbox and then hiring some random stranger to give me a piggy back ride back to my apartment. There’s never a need to overdo anything.
Number Five: Drink Water. I can’t function these days without drinking a lot of water. My favorite way to drink water is to pour it in an ice tray, take several hours for it to freeze, and then pour sweet tea all over it.
Thinking back, which is a great thing to do while drinking sweet tea (taking little sips with an analytical gaze on your face is a great way to look sophisticated and gentleman-like), I guess I knew I wanted to write this book because I’ve always liked writing (especially, the word DORK on my brother’s face in permanent marker). I even thought about writing this entire book in CAPITAL LETTERS so that whenever it gets narrated by Morgan Freeman, that is, if he’s even still alive, he would have to SHOUT as if I’m SHOUTING. I like the idea that people someday might be forced to picture me speaking loudly with the voice of God. It’s a powerful vision.
Anyways, who’s ready to do some hard core reading? Strap a Band-Aid to your index finger (Prevents paper cuts. You’re welcome) and let’s kick this thing off the old fashioned way.
“Once upon a time there lived a very talented man who , despite his inability to produce a legitimate sun tan or valid work of literature, overcame these obstacles, along with others, to make huge strides towards his life’s passion to share his truest thoughts with a handful of his closest friends in a short book.”