Have you done something wrong and need an excuse? Are you trying to get out of an obligation? Have you ever wanted to kindly decline an invitation?
There is one magical phrase that can do all of these things, while also eliminating the possibility of having to explain yourself further:
“Explosive diarrhea.”
Boss: “Feldman! You’re 40 minutes late for work!”
Feldman: “Explosive diarrhea.”
Boss: “Oh. Sorry to hear that.”
And with that, the conversation is over. Feldman is in the clear, and he won’t be asked to get into any details.
Dad: “Josh, why isn’t the lawn mowed?”
Josh: “Explosive diarrhea.”
Dad: “Oh. Well, don’t worry about it. I can do it.”
Josh was supposed to mow the lawn. But by saying the magic words, he not only got away with not mowing the lawn; he also got his dad to do it for him.
Cop: “Do you know how fast you were going?”
Driver: “Explosive diarrhea.”
Cop: “Oh. Okay. Go as slow as you can, please.”
Conversation over. The driver pulls himself back on to the expressway, and probably even has a little more latitude with his speed for the next few miles.
Wife: “Honey, would you like to fool around?”
Husband: “Explosive diarrhea.”
Wife: “Oh. Well, maybe another time.”
And that ends the discussion. The man can go back to watching the baseball game, and yet hasn’t offended his wife.
I could go on and on, as the list of situations that can be diffused by simply uttering, “Explosive diarrhea” is endless. I’m afraid I’m going to have to stop here, however.
Explosive diarrhea…
My wife and I have a pretty good marriage, but it seems like every week we find something new to argue about.
Last week it was all about how much peeing in the shower is acceptable. I believe up to a quart of urine a day is fine, whereas my wife thinks there should be no urinating in the shower at all.
One night the argument escalated to a point at which I said, “You know what? This marriage is too important to me to let this come between us. If it will ease the tension around here, I’m willing to compromise.”
Since then, I have been peeing no more than a pint of urine per day into the shower.
This week, the argument has been about appropriate uses of our measuring cups.
It never ends.
I receive quite a few letters and electronic-mail messages from the millions of Tubesteakers out there. Generally, if they’re from dudes, I don’t bother reading them, and the same goes for chicks whose names don’t sound hot.
The other day, however, I accidentally opened this one from a reader named Albert. I was truly moved, and it made me realize that I owe it to humanity to help those who are less fortunate than I.
Dear Mr. Tubesteak,
I am 28 years old, but have never had a girlfriend. I believe it’s because I’m not sexy enough. You really seem to have “sexy” figured out. Do you have any advice for a lonely guy like me?
Sincerely,
Albert H.
Well, Albert, “sexy” comes naturally to very few of us (but, obviously, to me). There is hope, though: even those folks that don’t have the natural gift (I do) can achieve sexy. The keys are attention to detail and adaptability — “sexy” varies depending on the situation.
Following is a little guide that should unleash the sexy beast inside of you. Be warned, however: once that beast has had a taste of the wild, he’s awfully hard to tame.
How to Achieve Sexy
A Pictorial Guide
Step 1:
Begin with a full beard, and try to look as terrible as possible. That way, you’ll have no place to go but up. Tip: a little bit of drool hanging from your lip goes a long way.
If you’re going to a party full of cage-fighters and street brawlers, you can stop after Step 1. You have achieved sexy.
Step 2:
Shave just enough of your beard to leave some long chops and a vandyke (mustache plus goatee). Then think about something that really pisses you off, like how difficult the government has made it to purchase automatic weapons.
If you’re heading off to a meeting for your local militia or violent hate group, you can stop after Step 2. You have achieved sexy.
Step 3:
Shave the hair off your chin, but leave everything else. Then drink a six-pack of Schlitz, Blatz, or any beer that ends with the letters “tz.”
If your plans for the evening include a ‘possum roast at your cousin’s trailer, you can stop after Step 3. You have achieved sexy.
Step 4:
Shorten the mustache and the chops. Then find a cowboy hat and go rope a few steer.
If your night’s agenda consists of a gay hoedown and/or Brokeback Mountain viewing party, you can stop after Step 4. You have achieved sexy.
Step 5:
Further shorten your mustache and remove the patch of hair below your bottom lip. Then go wash your white, window-less van.
If you’re on your way to meet some fellow kidnappers, predators, or stalkers for a drink at the bar, you can stop after Step 5. You have achieved sexy.
Step 6:
Remove all sideburns and trim your mustache down to a clearly defined trapezoid that sits completely above your mouth. Then take a few minutes to consider how much you like busting perps and ID-ing DOAs.
If you’re headed to the Policemen’s Ball later, you can stop after Step 6. You have achieved sexy.
Step 7:
Finally, put on one of your light-colored tuxedoes, pour some beer into a wine glass, stand in front of a bookcase, and furrow your brow.
It doesn’t matter where you’re going now, as you have achieved sexy on a transcendent level. Sexy enough to end a couple’s happy marriage just by saying hello. Sexy enough to trigger envy-induced suicides by previously self-confident men. Sexy enough to impregnate women merely by looking at them too long.
With great power comes great responsibility. Albert’s letter, however, made me realize that it’s unfair of me to keep the secrets of sexy to myself. Thus, I have now shared both the power and the responsibility with all of you.
Now, very carefully, go forth and be sexy.
To me, the perfect bowel movement is one that requires no wiping.
I don’t have the confidence, however, to evacuate my bowels without wiping — at least once — to confirm that everything is clean.
Thus, every time I sit down on the toilet, I’m setting myself up for failure.
How terribly, terribly sad.
Congratulations to the winner of last week’s Tubesteak Challenge, Jeremy M.! How fitting, with International Jeremy Appreciation Day less than a week away, that a Jeremy would win the most outstanding prize on Earth: a personalized song written and recorded by me.
Jeremy, I present to you possibly the greatest song ever written:
Prepare to be envied.