O.K., let’s not beat around the bush. You all know who I am. I’m everywhere. I’ve probably popped up in your favorite mainstream comedy. You may have even been able to make out my face in the clouds in the “Game of Thrones” finale. (The director really wanted to use me, but didn’t know how to fit me into the script.)
People just seem drawn to my plucky energy and impishly handsome face. I’ve been told that my smile both sets people at ease and inspires mischief. Fans always ask me, “Hey, Paul, was your dad a Nordic elf?” And I laugh and respond, “No, but he did bang your mom when your dad was on a business trip.” That usually shuts them up. Good old Paul Rudd, always reliable for a chuckle.
I carry this attitude into everything in my life. Every decision, be it big or small, I think, O.K., Paul Rudd, what would you do in this situation? It hasn’t failed me once. As soon as I look at a problem “through the eyes of Paul Rudd,” it’s almost impossible to see it any other way. And then everything becomes clear. “Ruddified,” I call it.
I’m actually quite selfless. I just want to help people. When you’re blessed with the nose of a fictional prince and eyes that sparkle like peridots, well, it just makes you want to give back. That’s why I’ve compiled the instructions below. Feel free to use any part of them during moments of duress, phases of self-improvement, or just when planning some good old-fashioned romps. Once you internalize “Paul Rudd’s Guide to Eternal Youth,” the principles really start to take on a life of their own. Hey, just look where it’s gotten me.
Don’t fixate on the little things.
When something doesn’t go my way—like when the former child actor Jason Bateman gets a role I wanted—instead of fretting, I focus on what is working in my life. Like the mushrooms I ate an hour ago, or the PS5 I stole off Jason’s front porch last year.
Once I do this, I return to what isn’t working—like the Batemans’ satellite dish, which I blew out with a glock that I borrowed from one of my security guards—with a more positive mind-set. Satellite! Can you fucking believe it? Four seasons of “Ozark,” and he still hasn’t upgraded.
Then I look in my rearview mirror as I drive away from his neighborhood, flash myself a devilish grin, and say, “Ruddified!” Works every time.
Failure is just success that’s still in the womb.
Like that one? I made up the whole saying, but it’s true. When you screw up, it’s actually just success kicking at your uterus from the inside, letting you know that it’s not quite ready to come out yet. That’s when you need to buckle down, cross your legs, and let success keep cooking a little longer.
I cherish every one of my failures. I got busted the first time I tried to steal a package off of Bateman’s porch, by the way. It was so humiliating.
When Bateman’s wife opened the front door and saw me standing there holding their package, it didn’t take her long to put two and two together. I can still remember her confusion and disgust. “Paul?” she asked. “Paul Rudd?!”
We locked eyes briefly, and then I panicked. I threw the package directly at her, hoping to buy myself some time. But, despite my undeniable charm, I’m not the most coördinated guy. The package missed her completely and almost hit the Batemans’ dog, knocking over a potted plant instead.
Unsure of how to respond, I simply yelled, “Ruddified!” and ran away. They have a pretty big yard, so I had to run a while before I was out of view. I even tripped a couple times. Total failure.
But what did I do? I took that experience and used it to make sure that I was successful next time I stole one of Bateman’s packages. Now I intercept their UPS guy at knifepoint. He always hands the delivery right over. Ruddified!
There is no “I” in “team,” but there are two “U”s in “Paul Rudd.”
“Paul Rudd’s Guide to Eternal Youth” isn’t just about me, Paul Rudd. It’s also about you and you, whoever you are. By implementing the guide, we can each access our internal Pauls and harness the power to tackle all the ills of the world, including Jason Bateman. Of course, you personally might not have an issue with Jason. But you probably have a Jason Bateman of your own, in your day-to-day life—someone you compete with for validation, whose packages you steal. This is just the way of the world. Every morning that you see that dumb bastard’s face rising over the hills, in the sun, and every night that you still see his dumb face in the moon hovering above your home (which is larger than his, incidentally)—that’s when you access your inner Paul and say, “Bateman, enough!” And then you either throw a box at his wife and run away (failure) or you rob his UPS guy (Ruddification). It’s your choice.
Those are only the first three principles in “Paul Rudd’s Guide to Eternal Youth,” but, believe me, there are many more. And I’ll leave you with this—I can no longer legally come within five hundred feet of Bateman’s house, but, if enough people read this and reach out to my agent, I can pass the address along and we can probably surround the place. So just keep it in mind. Mull it over. I might even be able to show up at a few of your enemies’ houses. Because that’s just the kind of guy I am. Ruddified! ♦
