If I hadn't failed to get that fifteen cent per hour raise (which was a lot of money in my time) from Kentucky Fried Chicken back in 1996, I may have never decided that I wanted to take school seriously rather than deep fry poultry products with my life. The point is kiddies, you've got to fail once in a while to learn who you really are.

A year ago I was more in love than I've ever been. I was pathetically struck with this woman. Read, "Love is in the Air, Get a Gasmask" if you want to know the abbreviated story.

Are the cops arresting you too much? Maybe you'll find out you're really good at making shivs in prison. Then she dumped me. We'd broken up three times before this, so this axe wasn't a total shock except that this occasion was over the phone. And just after I flew to be with her on her birthday (and took her on a shopping spree). The timing was also a week before Christmas and two weeks before my birthday.

We both did some effed up things to each other. I tried to win her back, and when that didn't work I just buried every emotion. I did my best not to talk to anybody about her, the relationship or how this affected me. I still don't talk about the debacle—except on worldwide-read boner/joke humor columns.

The details don't really matter, but the fact is, I failed miserably at love. At the time, I believed nothing could be more tragic. But I still put on my shirt, tie and happy face for my shitty job every morning. I came home alone, slept alone and drank alone (and with my friends).

Looking back at this, if I hadn't been dumped I wouldn't have been so bored at work. I probably would have just sent lame lovey-dovey emails back and forth. I would have never been fed up at my corporate desk and written "The Dumbest People I've Ever Met" and "Get ‘Em While They're Hot." Both columns (even though "Dumbest" disappeared in the Interweb) landed me this wonderful "Thank Me Later" gig as the celebrity personality writer you know and love with all your heart.

Now this just isn't a therapeutic exercise for me, I want to give you a little life advice I wish somebody would have given me. Take it or leave it.

FAIL. Fail the fuck out of something. Don't do it intentionally (but that can also be really fucking funny), but if you suck at chemistry, maybe you weren't meant to be a doctor but to be a yoga instructor. Are the cops arresting you too much? Maybe you'll find out you're really good at making shivs in prison. Have your last three relationships ran away screaming from you? Maybe you're gay. It's cool. Everybody (but me) is doing it. 

Fail, but don't be bitter about it. I know it blows, but you just need to accept some knowledge. And if you're recovering from a failed relationship, SHUT UP! Nobody cares! You're either too smothering or too laid back, too fat or too stupid (you can never be too skinny), too sexy or not sexy enough. Deal with it and find somebody else.

Don't look at failing as failure. Look at it as a learning experience. Unless you're failing to hit the brakes just before an oncoming freight train, failure isn't a life or death situation. You'll be okay.

If you know what's good for you, listen to me. Or fuck up your life and wish you'd had heeded my instructions. See if I give a shit.

As always, Thank Me Later.