Probably the fact that there is no God. I miss being an ignorant Christian. 
Posted by CrankyAsAnOldMan : “When the Berlin was came down you could have knocked me over with a feather, and I began to realize that nothing was inevitable.”
Same here, Cranky. I sat up all night watching the TV, seeing the wall come down, and realizing all the years of fearing nuclear war were probably (hopefully) wasted. Relief that the wall was down, and some anger about all the unnecessary worry.
I wish I could unlearn Microbiology and my classes on Pathogens and Parasites. They’ve made my wife and I paraniod about everything - you know, the kind of knowledge that makes you use paper towels to open up public bathroom doors and your elbows to turn on sinks, or force you to wash your hands a hundred times after touching uncooked beef and make you wonder “now where else did I touch after opening the beef that must be scrubbed down?”.
We’re both like Monk on TBS (the obsessive-compulsive detective), though luckily nowhere near that extreme (yet!).
As a child, my mother encouraged me to be observant and notice all the neat things in the world. It was really cool and I saw her point.
Then I read Sherlock Holmes and learned there were cool reasons to actually ‘see’ everything.
Finally I read Doc Savage books and I thought it was funny to exercise your senses, so of course, I did that too.
The ability to notice small things and hear tiny or distant noises and smell the difference between food that is ok or will kill you has been nice, but, oh! the crap I know about people makes me sad. Some days I desperately wish I could put a blindfold on. I am not even being judgemental about this stuff, I really don’t care about who does what. I’m just sorry I know Who and What.
I wish I had never learnt about Mormons wearing special underwear. For some reason I cannot get it out of my mind.
Special Mormon underwear? Now that’s something I’d like to know more about!
Of course, I’ll probably regret it.
They wear this all-in-one thing or something. I just keep imagining them not being able to go to the bathroom all day because they can’t take it off. I’m sure I’ve got it totally wrong, but it haunts me.
That the Alanis Morissette song “You Oughta Know” may or may not be about Full House’s Dave Coulier. Even if it’s not, I don’t need the mere suggestion!
My god yes, it has to do with my GF of seven yrs. She’s a good girl now but I found out she wasn’t such a good girl back in the day. When confronted about this she didn’t deny it. I KNOW IT SHOULDN’T MATTER NOW AND I SHOULDN’T HAVE CONFRONTED HER. But a few drinks in me and instant you-know-what…
I never touch washroom handles when exiting (why is always an easy push to go in, but you have to turn a handle to get out?) I always use my sleeve, or my bag strap, or even my hem or something.
Cecil really ruined my life though with his thing about when you flush a lavatory, and all the fecal coliform growing merrily on the ceiling.
Whenever someone answers your question with the preparatory “Do you really want to know?” you probably really would rather not know.
I’m sorry I know what felching is.
I have found that knowing what felching is comes in handy when I want to describe the extreme badness of something. If it goes too far beyond sucking, then I say it “felches _____ ______”. Then I decide whether the thing being felched is alive or dead (usually dead, unless the felchee is a particularly disgusting critter), then what, exactly is being felched.
I don’t know what munging is, though, and I have a feeling that in this regard, ignorance is bliss.
What? Is that a real thing? Will I regret asking?
Well I suppose “learning” french has got to be one. I mean the end result of my university forcing me to do that is that I ended up completely despising the France, french, and the French people. I suppose I should thank them though. If it wasn’t for them shoving it down my throat who knows what would happen? I mean I could have made the mistake of taking a vacation to Paris or something, enjoying the sights and all and never once realizing I hated everything about it:D
Oh, does my “friend” count? I kind of learned by accident my former friend got married and was having a kid. So basically I learned she didn’t think I was important enough to bother to keep in touch with “little” things like that.(Naturally I want nothing to do with her although I’m still friends with her sister which might be a bit precarious)
Finding out that my wife of 10 years was a lesbian…
I, too, am unnaturally preoccupied with the Mormon underwear. I’ve never seen one, but I imagine a really coarse fabric fashioned into a “Little House On The Prairie” get-up. I have to wonder why they think the underwear is necessary. I have to wonder how they feel knowing that the world of underwear is waaaay cooler on the Victoria’s Secret end of the spectrum. I have to wonder what foreplay is like. I have to wonder what a Mormon pajama party is like. I have to wonder what they wear when trying on bathing suits. It just never stops.
I found out seven years after the fact that my sister was raped in college. She and my mother had deliberately never told my brother and I about it. I think my brother still doesn’t know.
Why my mother finally decided to tell me is beyond my comprehension. At that point, with it being far too late for anyone to do anything about it, why did I have to know? Every now and then I think about telling/talking with my brother about it, and then I remember how I felt when I found out. He’s better off not knowing. I wish I could be like him.
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Mormon underwear (hencefoth “garments”) looks like a t-shirt and a pair of boxer-briefs. Yes, they’re available in two-piece, so we can go to the bathroom in public easily. We think it’s necessary because it represents certain religious beliefs which we hold after a certain point in our spiritual lives (i.e. after attending the temple).
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Victoria’s Secret stuff is great when you’re less than a size 4, but not all women like to wear it. My wife actually vastly prefers the Mormon underwear–she says it’s comfy. I was used to wearing undershirts and boxers before I started to wear garments, so it was no big switch.
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Foreplay is the same as it always was. If we’re really inclined we can wear fancy lingerie for pre-nookie purposes, but I like my lady in her birthday suit anyway.
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How old are you that you still have pajama parties? And if you are still having pajama parties as an adult, are you regularly naked at the party? We wear jammies like everyone else. [shrug]
In short: I used to think Mormon underwear was weird too, but now that I wear it, it’s really no big deal. Just like regular underwear: goes on when I leave for school, comes off when I get undressed (for any reason). 
Oh, by the way, I didn’t mean to offend you when mentioning the pajama parties. I was trying to gently poke fun at you, but it may not have sounded that way. Sorry.
Pretty much everything I’ve heard (and seen) of Michael Jackson, since around 1980. Off the Wall was a great album. If only it had all ended there…
I find it’s hard to enjoy nature programs, which almost always end in an environmental-warning epilogue about the shrinking or threatened habitat, illegal hunting, pollution, inbreeding, etc. threatening their long-term or short-term survival.
I’ve skimmed a text used in the funeral industry – on how to embalm a body, with candid photos showing decomposition rates in different conditions. I’ve also flipped through many dental texts – again, more B&W photos of mouths that not even David Cronenberg could imagine. You just can’t unlearn things like that.
And yet even the ugliest knowledge is still preferable to ignorance, childishness, and gullibility, no? How can we assume adult and civic responsibilities, and attempt to forge solutions to our problems, without knowledge? If nothing else, full comprehension may help us to appreciate and relish what pleasure, normalcy, and health we have, however fleeting it may be.
Although that lovely rationale may apply more neatly to overpopulation, oral cancer, and decomposition than it does to Michael Jackson. [sigh] Some things can be fixed, and some can’t.