Good advice is, err, good. Sometimes you ask for it and it is offered.
Sometimes it is offered without you asking for it and it is helpful.
But sometimes advice is bad. Sometimes you ask for it and what you're given is terrible. And sometimes you don't ask for it and terrible
advice is given anyway.
Who are the main culprits of bad advice-giving?
Pissed people, that's who.
“You should absolutely quit your job and start up a business
breeding rare caterpillars despite you having no capital and no
knowledge in that area whatsoever,” is one such piece of advice a
drunken person might give you.
“That girl is giving you the eye; you should go and talk to her,”
is another. This usually ends up with a drink being thrown in your
face and/or a sound beating being administered by the girl who wasn't
looking at you at all's nine foot tall boyfriend.
I saw some pissed advice being dispensed in York on Saturday evening.
A homeless man wrapped in a sleeping bag sat in a shop doorway. A
couple had approached and had given him some money. It was a nice
gesture.
But it soon turned ugly.
“You know what I'd do if I were you?” I heard the charitable man
slur at the homeless man.
I was too far away to catch the whole conversation, but it was full
of “what you want to do” type statements.
Excellent. The homeless man was obviously down on his luck and the only thing he needed to get him out of his slump
was a hammered knobhead telling him what to do next.
I imagine he's no longer homeless and he's probably now got a job too, thanks to the intoxicated words of wisdom he recived.
Well done, inebriated advice man.
Except no.
He didn't need you telling him what to do and giving him money
doesn't give you the right to preach at him, you fucking pompous prick.
Although I'm actually offering advice to the advisor myself here which is no better, except I'm not drunk (well, not that drunk anyway) and I'm not screaming it into his face.
Perhaps it's bet to just never offer advice. I wouldn't if I were you.
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