Bah!

It hasn't been a banner year for The Whaler. Money's tight aboard his tiny boat. If finding whales to kill weren't tough enough already, Greenpeace's guerilla tactics have made it just about impossible for him to earn a living. Says the Whaler, "Those fuckers keep drilling holes in the hull of my boat! How am I supposed to stab a whale through the heart when I've got holes to plug?" Because of The Whaler's financial pinch, it won't be Christmas as usual on the quay. This year, instead of gifts, The Whaler will be passing out advice. But bear with him. Some day his luck may change.

Gift #1. Do not buy uncured bacon when you're nursing a hangover. It doesn't taste like bacon as you know it, and you'll feel like you've hit rock bottom when you find yourself pouring salt on top of each slice. Have you ever seen Boyz n the Hood? Do you remember the scene in which a crackhead offers to suck Trey's dick for like five bucks? Disgusting, right? Yes, well, when you're pushing a slice of bacon into your mouth with one hand and simultaneously salting it with the other, you're gonna feel about that low.

Gift #2. This is actually a piece of advice that my friend Dave gave me. I've regifted and given it to you because most of my advice sucks. Seriously, everything The Whaler knows about life you probably already figured out years ago or knew intuitively. (The Whaler's slow on the uptake.) In an email, Dave warned me not to order Domino's Steak Fanatic Pizza:

Whaler, I think I recall you saying that the Domino's Steak Fanatic Pizza was looking pretty good on TV. Well, we ordered it yesterday during the Cowboys' shit-show, and we all agreed it was the worst pizza we've ever had, even though we ate it all. The steak tastes like dog food, and there's no tomato sauce, and the best part is they don't use mozzarella. They smother it in white American cheese. I really didn't expect much from it. In fact, I thought it would probably sort of suck. But no tomato sauce?? That really threw me. And the American cheese was just fucking comical. I was seriously laughing as I ate it because of that cheese--really tasted like Kraft singles.

Gift #3. Never ask a cop for his autograph because you think it will make your friends laugh. You'll only make the policeman angry, and the three of you will likely spend the night in jail on a bullshit charge. Eater X can explain this one a lot better than I can. Just don't ask him about it in front of his parents.

Gift #4. If you make the mistake of asking a cop for his autograph because you think it will make your friends laugh and you're in Dallas and the cop arrests you and places you in jail for the night, hire Grant St. Julian as your attorney. Although you'll never see or talk to Grant St. Julian in person, he'll make the charges against you disappear. And he'll only charge you 50 bucks.

Gift #5. Do not eat three ounces of raw chicken because you optimistically believe that Surely somewhere there must be a piece of raw chicken that doesn't contain salmonella. Drill this into your head: POISON CHICKEN DOES NOT DESERVE THE BENEFIT OF THE DOUBT! No matter how healthy you think you are, you will get sick, and it will suck. If you decide to eat the raw chicken anyway, set aside at least three days to recover. You're gonna need 'em.

Merry Christmas. I want a new harpoon.