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.
If, at the completion of my business, there is even a square of toilet paper left on the roll, I am absolved of all roll replacement responsibilities.
It’s hard to say if one square will be sufficent for the next user. It is also not my problem.
When someone calls you a “douche bag,” it’s easy to automatically assume that the person is trying to be negative. But douche bags are very important, useful things. So it’s possible that the person is trying to tell you that he/she considers you both important and useful — a true compliment.
On another note, I would like to congratulate the winner of yesterday’s Tubesteak Challenge, Michael B.! As promised, I will include his name in this blog post!
MICHAEL B. IS A DOUCHE BAG.
(That’s a compliment. To see how important and useful Michael is, check out his blog, The Daily Bacon.)
I hope that when people see me exiting a restroom with wet shoes they assume it’s because I’m an aggressive hand washer.
Most people prefer a hairy coworker to a coworker that waxes various body parts at work.
And if you like your job, you’re better off embracing that hairy butt crack.
Lesson learned.
My wife scolded me the other day for leaving my toenail clippings on the coffee table. According to her, the coffee table “has to be about the worst place to leave your disgusting toenail clippings.”
While I agree that the coffee table is a bad place to leave toenail clippings, I don’t think that it’s the worst place to leave them. To prove my point, I will now list five places that are worse for leaving toenail clippings than the coffee table.
- The Dining Room Table. Imagine Thanksgiving Day, and Grandma asks you to pass the salt. You quickly scan the table looking for it, when you spot it — right between the yams and the toenail clippings. I’d say that’s worse than the coffee table.
- The Ice Cube Tray. Imagine it’s Friday night, and you are fixing yourself a drink. You drop an ice cube from the ice cube tray into your drink, and immediately notice that there are toenail clippings in the ice cube. I think you’d be peeved, moreso than if you had found toenail clippings on the coffee table.
- In a Pot of Leftover Soup. When you unwittingly bite into a spoonful of toenail clippings, I doubt you will say, “Well, at least these toenail clippings weren’t left on the coffee table.”
- In a Bag of Rice. Toenail clippings look a lot like rice. Imagine the frustration you’ll feel having to sort through a bag of rice to pull out the toenail clippings every time you want to cook a batch of szechuan tofu. I anticipate that it would be more frustrating than finding toenail clippings on the coffee table.
- In Someone’s Jar of Fingernail Clippings. Picture this: you’re feeling nostalgic, and you want to relive old memories by going through the jar of fingernail clippings you’ve been saving for the last 30 years. When you open the jar, however, you realize that it has been tainted by someone else’s toenail clippings. You know that the toenail clippings are in there, but they don’t look different enough from the fingernail clippings to really pick them out. Suddenly, your jar of fingernail clippings seems a bit gross. I believe you would say to yourself, “This is much, much worse than finding toenail clippings on my coffee table.”
There may be even more places out there that would be worse for leaving toenail clippings than a coffee table; I’m not sure. What I am sure of, though, and what I am fairly confident I have proven today, is that the coffee table is not the worst place for a person to leave his/her toenail clippings.
If my date is extra gassy at a dinner party, I’m willing to be a gentleman by taking credit for every one of her farts.
Once she takes a dump in the host’s kitchen sink, however, she’s on her own.