Years from now, strangers will stop you on the street and tell you how much they enjoyed the sight of you running from the bear that stole your clothes.
You will meet a dark-haired stranger next week. Actually, you’ll meet several, but only one of them is important for our purposes.
You will thoroughly enjoy your study of world history until you realize it isn’t supposed to be funny.
You will be greatly relieved to learn that the Bronx Zoo rhino’s newborn babies in no way resemble you.
Nothing in the universe can keep you from watching your beloved Green Bay Packers, as the Venusian Space Armada will soon discover.
You will move no one when you announce plans to embark on a hunger strike that will last until someone feeds you.
Your psychological affliction will have no serious negative side effects, with the possible exception of a sexual obsession with Greta Van Susteren.
You might not believe it now, but dropping 1,500 feet out of a helicopter with only a parachute, compass, and knife will be the easy part of your week.
You will spend the next 40 years of your life desperately preparing for the final 10.
You will lose one of your oldest friends in the world when you fly into a violent rage over the sight of an incorrectly used apostrophe.
Your long, hard journey to manhood after falling off a luxury liner and into a fishing vessel is a source of pride until you learn it was done in a Kipling novel.
Don’t eat too many of the free corn chips at your local Mexican restaurant. That’s how they get you.
