Pro Tips: Put turds in, get turds out – turning it around for 2013

Tolerated misanthrope and bathrobe aficionado, Wayne Diamante, scours his pots and pans for answers to his readers’ questions in this installment of Pro Tips with Wayne Diamante. Actually, not so much this week. In any event, if you’ve got questions, Wayne has dishes, so send them on over internetwerk to

Hello friends, happy 2013! Like many of you, I’ve been waiting a very, very long time for the Mayan Apocalypse. For decades, it’s been a staple topic of my late night cctv interviews, bong sessions, emergency administrative meetings, ally visits, impromptu financial/medical advice and ad hoc correspondence with inmates at a correctional facility I am not at liberty to identify publically. Am I sad life as we know it wasn’t snuffed out like a sooty candle? Of course not. I’m an advice columnist, not a sex pervert. Would some closure have been nice? Of course! But consider the following: What if this is the apocalypse!? What if Mayan Apocalypse just looks, tastes and smells exactly like Regular Times? “Poppycock” you might say! Consider then, this earthy kernel of homespun empiricism: Put turds in, get turds out.

Think about it.

Look, I don’t enjoy telling people what’s wrong with them; turns out, I’m just gifted. So, I could write a long list of things everyone should do in 2013, but in a post-apocalyptical annual turn of introspection and humility, I will offer my own self advice to myself for 2013:

Stop using the word “fuck,” and its derivations, so much in front of my family.
Work harder at things I enjoy but hate doing but enjoy complaining about.
Take a night class: Think about Police College.
Or at least certification to become a private investigator.
Stick with private investigator. Grow mustang.
Mustache, whatever. Let’s roll.
Make first drug-bust.
Undercover assignment?
Let’s roll.
You know I love you, but I just can’t take it.
You know I love you, but I’m in too deep.
Get hands dirty.
Get compromised.
Plea bargain.
Serve a little time, but option the movie.
(to self) Fives.

There you have it. Is it advice? Is it a life plan? No one knows, not even me. This whole time I’ve been channeling the Oracle at Delphi, mostly by drinking Busch Lights and smoking whatever’s inside compact fluorescent light-bulbs. I can tell already; 2013 is going to be the best year ever.