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My pal inspects factories for a living, and I shall take his expert advice to the grave: "Never eat the meat pies". Tell us the best advice you've ever received.

(, Thu 20 May 2010, 12:54)
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This question is now closed.

rule of thumb
try not to trap it in the door. It bastard well hurts
(, Wed 26 May 2010, 13:50, Reply)
Never convince yourself you are invincible
... no matter how lucky you've been or how close you've come to being 'vinced.

You only need to be proved wrong once.
(, Wed 26 May 2010, 13:39, 5 replies)
Wayne gave me some great advice.
I asked him "What do you do if every time you see this one incredible woman, you think you're gonna hurl?"

He replied.

"I say hurl. If you blow chunks and she comes back, she's yours. But if you spew and she bolts, then it was never meant to be."

He's such a great mate.

(, Wed 26 May 2010, 13:33, 5 replies)
Rules of thumb
A good big radio antenna beats a good little one any day.

No radio is better than its antenna.

The wind only stops blowing when you get the kites out.

If it's too strong to break, it's too heavy to fly.

A good big kite is better than a good little kite.

Any fool with money and an engineering plant can build half million dollar cars that go 300 km/hr. It takes real brains though to build a quality car that's economical, comfortable, roomy and inexpensive. (thanks to James May)

Water always finds it's own level.

A triangle is stronger than a square.

You can't push a rope.

When you hear "They don't want you to know this but - " the rest is probably bullshit.

We're all born ignorant, some have strategies for staying ignorant and some stay ignorant naturally.

There are no ends, there are only means.

You never know what some people can do until they do it.

The tea in tea bags isn't good enough to be sold any other way.

Medium priced appliances are far better than the cheapest and they are usually as good as the most expensive. The extra price is generally for features you don't need.

If it can't be expressed in figures, it isn't science, it's opinion. (Rob't Heinlein)
(, Wed 26 May 2010, 13:27, 5 replies)
Regarding advice below about tossing a coin to show you what you really want...
...very true. Looking at the coin's decision will always, always tell you what you really want. Problem is, there's sometimes more than one choice, which is where you need a good sturdy die.
Now, I'll admit that my default reaction is to 'rolladdeesixferit' (relic of my Warhammer days) rather than a coin - there must be scores of dice lying about the house - because there's more possibilities - up to six different choices to be made at the whim of fate.
The problem is, there's always a one in six chance of it being a 1, which means I spend a lot more time than I'd like going to the flat downstairs and raping my mate's girlfriend.
(, Wed 26 May 2010, 13:26, 3 replies)
Darmok and Jalad at Tanagra
Rai and Jiri at Lungha. Rai of Lowani. Lowani under two moons. Jiri of Ubaya. Ubaya of crossroads, at Lungha. Lungha, her sky gray.

I need say no more.
(, Wed 26 May 2010, 13:20, 6 replies)
Masala Omlette
Travelling with my uncle and cousin through India, my uncle gave me a few pieces of key advice:
-Keep your mouth shut in the shower (Delhi belly)
-Drink/brush your teeth with bottled water (Delhi belly)
-Don't look at beggars, or you won't go 5 feet without handing out cash
-Don't drive at night, unless you have a terrible, terrible death wish
-Send the youngest person (in this case, me) to check the toilets before you go in.
-And always, always order a masala omlette for breakfast. At first, I followed this advice without hesitation, my uncle knows India, he's a well-travelled man. So dutifully, I order a masala omlette every morning, we all do, and they're not half bad.
Trouble is, after a month of heaving drinking, waking up hungover, and seeing another pale, oniony, peppery eggy mess plonked down on the table in front of you, you begin to dread getting out of bed in the mornings. Each fucking masala omlette becomes a personal torture, and after over 3 weeks, i'd had enough.
'Scrambled eggs, please', I chirrupped.
Stunned looks from across the table.
'What the fuck are you doing, SigmaX0?' inquires my uncle, taken aback.
'I can't eat any more masala omlette. It was nice the first 20 times, but now just the smell makes me want to die'
So my uncle and cousin's masala omlettes arrive, and they tuck in with unbridled enthusiasm, like they've never tried one before and it's some rare, exotic knob cheese scraped from underneath God's foreskin. And after an excruciating wait arrive my scrambled eggs, my disgrace. Pure white, and floating in a translucent milky soup, they look like spunk squash. I want to hurl.
The next day, and every day afterwards, I ordered masala omlette. Good advice, that.
(, Wed 26 May 2010, 13:16, Reply)
Meow-meow, meeeow yowl
Charlie says don't walk away with strangers and always tell an adult where you are.
(, Wed 26 May 2010, 13:16, 3 replies)
My mother once told me
"It's okay, as long as you wash your hands afterwards"

(, Wed 26 May 2010, 13:04, 4 replies)
Best advice or most vague?
My grandad to me on his deathbed -

"don't mess around with the wrong sort of people and do what you think's best..."

so, nice and specific then.....
(, Wed 26 May 2010, 13:02, Reply)
Another from the ‘Africa Bore’ series methinks…
It was April 2002, the Camel, Richard, Roxana and I had managed to successfully travel around Lake Chad and into Cameroon (successful meaning we hadn’t been murdered by the Chadians, who to be fair assume all white people are French).

We made our way south through Cameroon, all the time nursing our leaky tyres, and eventually found a decent tyre shop in Douala who we trusted to repair our 11 punctures, and fit the new tyre we had picked up. As we waited, we got chatting to the only other customer, a French bloke who was clearly involved in some shady illegal logging operation. It’s always worth swapping notes on the routes that are open, and when he found out that we were heading into the French Congo he told us that the South Westerly route through Gabon was difficult - the ferry was not working, the roads were bad, there be dragons, and that we really ought to go East to Moloundou, a small town in the South East corner of Cameroon, from where we could cross the river into the Congo using a free logging ferry. We pored over the Michelin map as he drew on roads where none were marked, and began to get excited as it showed a good tarmac road almost the whole way to Brazzaville once we were across the border (I believe it still does, by the way, but then French cartographers are all lying bastards, so I’m not surprised.)

I talked about the route with a few other locals in Youndé who confirmed the existence of the ferry crossing, which is not on the map, and so we decided to leave the well trodden path and head into the bush.

I’ll skip the details of the journey East – we slid our way along the muddiest roads ever until we eventually reached a charming town in the middle of nowhere with a broken rear right spring, and no chance of repairs. This is why you drive a Land Rover, they still keep going even when they are broken. From there we crossed the river on the ferry exactly as promised

Everything was going swimmingly – the advice we had been given was going to save weeks of hard slog – or that’s what we thought until we asked the border officials on the Congolese side where the tarmac road was. They rocked with laughter as they told us that there hadn’t been any road for 25 years, and even if there were, all the bridges had fallen down. Thanks Michelin.

The advice had, to be fair, been given in good faith, but on the face of it we were up the proverbial creek. The next few weeks saw some of the most uncomfortable and dangerous travelling of the journey, as I came down the River Congo on a trading boat, sort of like Heart of Darkness in reverse. I saw death and torture, pygmies on dugout canoes with tree-bark clothing, and a butterfly so large that it could glide. And here’s the irony – looking back on it all this was simply the best part of the entire journey (though probably not at the time). And I still get an email about once a month from some poor sod who wants details on how to retrace my route. So looking back on it I’d have to say that however fucked up it all was, that Frenchman gave me some of the best advice I’d ever heard.

More here: www.camelworld.com/diary_congo.htm

Length? 18 months and 70,000km
(, Wed 26 May 2010, 12:21, 1 reply)
another from my dad
You're not a man until you can pull your nose hairs out and not tear up.
(, Wed 26 May 2010, 12:02, 11 replies)
Love will make you happy, and love will keep you warm, and love will build a cushion to keep you safe from harm,
But hate will drive you onwards, and hate will drive you upwards, 'til you can get back all the bastards whoever tried to put you down.
(, Wed 26 May 2010, 11:51, 2 replies)
If you ever get to thinking that you're a person of some importance,
try ordering somebody else's dog around.
(, Wed 26 May 2010, 11:06, 4 replies)
You're better off without the fat ginger bitch....
... and I am! :-)
(, Wed 26 May 2010, 10:43, 1 reply)
When considering your options for breakfast
A fresh croissant accompanied by a glass of chilled Montbazillac is the perfect dish for checking your investments in the financial section of the Rich Bastard Times while basking in the sunshine just outside Reading.
(, Wed 26 May 2010, 10:08, Reply)
Never hurry a turd
The minute or two you'll save simply isn't worth getting piles over. And you won't need a doctor to poke your nether-eye. Wise words from a friend of mine - I wish I'd listened.
(, Wed 26 May 2010, 10:04, 1 reply)
Sitting with a dying person
means just that: sitting next to them, just being there for when they occasionally open their eyes.

Not talking, not plumping up the pillows, not offering tasty snacks or drinks, not holding their hand. Not even telling them that you're going now but will be back tomorrow - better to creep quietly away.

They don't need to hear about your new car or how the team's doing. All they want is to know that you care enough to give them your time, just staying beside them.

It feels as if you're doing nothing, just sitting silently, and not everyone can do it. If you can though, you are giving the dying person a gift of reassurance and peace. Nobody could do more for them.

Afterwards, your grieving will be gentler and your regrets fewer, and you will know that you did right.
(, Wed 26 May 2010, 9:22, 12 replies)

If you have to choose between two things but cant, toss a coin.

Its works not because it makes the decision for you, but because in that brief moment when the coin is spinning you suddenly know what you are hoping for.
(, Wed 26 May 2010, 8:45, 4 replies)
Wisdom is an old sea captain.
My grandad is a wise, experienced man. He worked at sea for many years, captaining his own ship, seeing the world before holidays over seas were popular, before globilisation, he's experienced cultures that no longer really exist.

The single peice of advice he's given men?
" Never trust a short person or a cripple, nasty tempers on them."
(, Wed 26 May 2010, 8:18, 2 replies)
Better to lose a lover
than love a loser.

At least, according to my ex.
(, Wed 26 May 2010, 6:22, 1 reply)
I like this one
"If you love something let it go, if it comes back to you it's yours. If it doesn't, it never was." I swear i've heard it worded differently, i think on a live version of the Atmosphere tune "Bird sings why the caged i know" but this is a direct quote from DMX. Insightful stuff from a man who later remarked "I've got blood on my hands and there's no remorse, I've got blood on my dick cos i fucked the corpse". What are these rappers like hey?
(, Wed 26 May 2010, 5:18, 2 replies)
From my wife's great-gran, who was a chef:
"Never trust a skinny cook."

And from the Good Book:
"It is better to live on the corner of a roof, than in a house with a quarrelsome wife."
"As a dog returns to its vomit, so a fool repeats his folly."
(, Wed 26 May 2010, 5:13, 1 reply)

Late Gramps:

I met all sorts when i were in't'Navy, and I'll tell you what. It dont matter if you are black brown yellow green or purple, what matters is if you are a wanker or not.
(, Wed 26 May 2010, 4:11, 1 reply)
"A pint's a pound the world around"
That's a saying in America. Just shows what the fuck they know, eh?
(, Wed 26 May 2010, 3:55, 3 replies)
If in doubt, do nowt
Many issues resolve themselves if given a little time.
(, Wed 26 May 2010, 3:52, Reply)
- after delivering a witty reposte, take a victory sip from scalding hot coffee (rookie mistake)
- call your boss a stupid cunt, no matter how much they act like a stupid cunt.
- drink red wine, because you'll just end up spilling it on something white, because you're drunk on red wine.
(, Wed 26 May 2010, 1:52, Reply)

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