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Let Me Give You Bad Advice: Keep Your Room Messy

Let Me Give You Bad Advice: Keep Your Room Messy

FROM: thePurpleRavenclaw
My parents keep telling me to clean my room, but what they call "a pigsty," I call "creative expression." How can I convince my parents to let me keep my room a mess?

Your parents won’t believe this “creative expression” excuse unless you get one thing: government funding. Unfortunately, the United States government doesn’t provide much in the way of backing artistic endeavors, but thankfully the United States isn’t the only pony in town. (I’m not sure if this is a phrase people use or not, I could see it going either way.) Iceland, on the other hand, is actually quite well known for funding the arts, but there is one problem: its economy is a bunch of poo. But it wasn’t always like this.

The solution: Get a time machine, a moving crew looking for a challenge, and transport your entire room in its current state to Iceland circa 2005. Find the king of Iceland, get some funding, and you’re gold! Here are a few Icelandic phrases to help you get started:

Hvar er konungur Íslands? = “Where is the king of Iceland?”

Hvað áttu við Ísland er rekið af Alþingi? = “What do you mean Iceland is run by a parliament?”

Hvar er nú konungurinn í þinginu? = “Where is the king of parliament?”

Ég þarf ekki lengur baðherbergi. Hvar er MOP? = “I no longer need a bathroom. Where is a mop?”

Also, because in five years Iceland’s economy will go back to poo, you’ll need to travel back to 2005 every five years. After a while your dedicated moving crew may be frail/dead, so you’ll also need to travel back into their pasts and hire them again in their youth.

A simpler solution: Get your room declared an historic landmark.

FROM: Invader_Pinkie
So Gary has been eating my comments lately. Is there anyway to stop him and/or destroy him? Or at least get revenge?

Gary has one weakness: rhyme. He has yet to maliciously consume any comment written entirely in verse! To protect your comments, try Dr. Suessing them up a bit. For example, the question you asked could’ve been written as:

“Gary has eaten my comments of late / This habit I must abate or this Gary obliterate! / Is there a method by which to seek revenge? / By the way, have you seen Stone Henge?”

Rhyme! Rhyme all the time! As far as revenge, Gary only takes satisfaction in eating good comments. To really tuss his muss (this is not a phrase anyone uses) only post terrible comments. Even “BAM” is sorta good—might I suggest instead posting “butts”? Could we actually make that a thing?

FROM: timey_wimey_stuff
Who's driving that mysterious black van down my street every night? And what's their purpose?

Black van? I … I don’t know anything about any mysterious black van.

Reid quietly pulls away from his keyboard and whispers into a two-way communicator.

“Pack it up boys—they’re onto us!”

“But Reid, I—”

“What did I tell you, Mr. Blue? You never use my real name!”

“Sorry, Mr. Red. But it’s just … we put so much work into this!”

“What work? You should be shredding everything. No one can know of our secret plan!”

“You mean our plan to discover what pasta teens eat the most?”

“Exactly! Now pack it up; we all need to disappear for a while until this whole thing blows over.”

Reid turns off communicator and returns to his keyboard.

Yeah, I know absolutely nothing about black vans or a secret contract with Kraft that was ultimately a failure. But I’m tired of talking about that. New topic: what’s your favorite pasta?

FROM: Pistaciosaregreat
I only have a week before I become an official adult! What should I do this week that is particularly childish?

If there’s one thing kids like to do, it’s pretending to be adults. They’re always playing baby, or playing house, or playing teacher; children like having jobs and responsibility! No adult enjoys being an adult, therefore the most childish thing you can do is have fun with mature tasks! Laugh as you pay your income tax, shop for renter’s insurance rates and smile and smile and smile, giggle while you hire an exterminator, and be filled with radiant joy as you compare fiber supplements at a grocery store on a Saturday morning.

Or, if that sounds like the worst day of your entire life: fill a water balloon with any kind of not-water and throw it at someone. What kind of not-water? That's for you to decide. Be creative!

That’s it for this week! If you have any pressing concerns or problems, leave a question in the comments and I’ll answer it next week!

Topics: Life
Tags: birthdays, bedrooms, bad advice, let me give you bad advice, iceland

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About the Author

Reid Faylor is a stand-up comedian, cartoonist, writer, and whimsically bearded gentleman living in New York City. He owns a cat named Mr. President. You can follow his tumblr at

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