Face University

Here's a quick tip, kids.

Don't put stuff online.

Too often are today's youth busted by putting the asinine things they do on Facebook or MySpace. If anyone, I would expect the Gen-Y and post to realize that anything that hits the digital realm will be Google cached, Flickr'd and 'Tubed.

It's you and your buddies doing a Keg Stand in your Junior High. It's those sexy topless shots you sent to your boyfriend. They're the candid phone-cam pics of you doing blow off of a mule at the underground grow-op. And they're all destined to show up in your boss' inbox on the following Monday. Or worse; your parents' blog.

Next time, plan ahead. At the next Donkey Show you attend or the next Nude Mile, do you and your career a favor. Nix the cameras and leave the phone at home.

Or at least have the courtesy to tag the photos "Political Career Enders" just so we all know where to look.

I'm done here.

Wedding Bashers

Here are just a few quick tips for anyone planning to have a wedding party. Over my lifetime I've been to quite a few weddings; most of them family but a few have been friends'. As someone who has been both a guest and a groomsman, I can assure you that I have plenty of experience in this arena.

Firstly, plan out the wedding details on paper first. Establish what it is you wish to do for the event. Figure out your caterers, tableware, center-pieces, and food. Determine what you will serve as entreés, hor-dourves, appetizers, and buffet. Decorations, flowers, programmes, menus, cards, and books: figure out all that you want. Plot out every minuscule detail of this wedding with the finest granularity you can imagine.

Tally up the costs. If you can't be precise, be safe. Always round up to the nearest dollar when you can. Be sure to divide the cost accordingly on a per-guest ratio.

Now do this:
1. Take that money and buy gift certificates from BestBuy or the Olive Garden.
2. Send that to your guests instead of an invitation.
3. Go elope in Las Vegas.

Nobody wants to be at your wedding. Nobody wants to put on a tux in 90º heat and sit in a gothic cathedral on a Saturday. Nobody wants to dance with a stranger's aunts and uncles doing the Chicken Dance. Nobody wants to watch the flower girl throw a tantrum in the buffet line. And nobody wants to hear a saccharine 90 minute meandering essay about how you two finally hooked up.

Just send me a picture and a cupcake. I'll send you the card with the money afterwards.

You're welcome.