A couple of weeks ago Dave and Chris were watching some sort of hockey-related doo-dah when I got home. They had just ordered a bunch of Indian food. I went into the kitchen to make my dinner, and had only been at it for a minute or two when suddenly I heard Dave scream in pain. I came running out into the living room to discover that he had grabbed a spoon by the spoon itself (rather than by the handle), after it had been submerged in extremely hot sauce, causing him to burn his hand. And my response to this crisis? I said:

"You gotta ease into that shit, man!"

In the weeks since the incident, this has become known as The Least Helpful Advice Ever Given. It is, in point of fact, an entirely useless statement that in no way assists my injured friend in either solving the situation at hand, or preventing similar injuries in the future. It is a complete and utter non-sequiter, and should be grounds for my dismissal from the ranks of Those Empowered To Advise. Mum shall be my word. "Ease into that shit." What the hell was I thinking?

(Written on the Day of the Beast but posted one day later to confound Satan)