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…
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.
How would you rate Jessica Alba on a 10-point scale?
Almost immediately after the base 10 numeral system was developed by Indians in the 9th century B.C., dudes began rating chicks on a 10-point scale. Since then, countries and religions have come and gone, but the 10-point scale has proudly remained. For the shallow man trying to communicate the hotness of a woman to his friends, it is truly an invaluable tool.
Like any tool, however, the 10-point scale is often misused. While the majority of dudes use it correctly, there are a few abusers out there that can make you wonder if it even makes sense to continue assigning chicks numbers based on how hot they are.
Below I’ve listed what I believe to be the five worst abusers. Major, major shame on you if one of these descriptions hits close to home.
1. The Bipolar Rater.
Some Dude: “What would you rate Jessica Alba?”
Bipolar Rater: “Definitely a 10!”
Some Dude: “How about Jessica Biel?”
Bipolar Rater: “Ugh. She’s a 1.”
As a Bipolar Rater, you rate every chick either a 1 or a 10. There are no shades of grey with the Bipolar Rater; we may as well be asking you a “yes or no” question. A Bipolar Rater can see two chicks of fairly similar hotness, and he’ll give one of them a 10 and the other one a 1.
You are a disgrace, and will remain so unless we someday devolve into a society that rates chicks on a 2-point system.
2. The Overthinker.
Overthinker: “Lindsay Lohan would be a 9.6, but I have to deduct 1.2 points because her eyes aren’t blue. The presence of freckles, however, increases her score by .6 points, and her red hair, while not a full 1-point shade of red, is attractive enough to earn her an additional half of a point.”
If you are an Overthinker, you can’t just assign a rating; you need to first engage in a thorough analysis. While we appreciate that you want to be fair, your analysis is so complete that’s it’s almost not even shallow anymore, which is the entire point of the chick rating exercise. And you have definitely crossed the line over into creepy.
3. The Dude Whose Opinion Can’t Be Constrained to 10 Digits.
Some Dude: “On a 10-point scale, how would you rate Megan Fox?”
Can’t Be Constrained: “Dude, she’s like a 12!”
Okay. I understand that you think Megan Fox is really hot, but we just established that we’re working with a 10-point scale. 10, then, is the maximum score. Thus, assigning her a 12 doesn’t mean that she’s extra hot, it just means that you’re extra stupid.
4. The Stingy Rater.
Some Dude: “What do you think of Scarlett Johansson?”
The Stingy Rater: “Dude, she’s a 6!”
Some Dude: “What are you talking about? She’s one of the hottest girls in the world!”
The Stingy Rater: “I know — that’s why I gave her a 6!”
If you’re a Stingy Rater, you’ve never rated a chick higher than a 6 or 7. It’s not because you don’t think any chicks are really hot; it’s because you’re reserving the higher numbers for some extremely hot chicks that neither you nor anyone on Earth has met or heard of yet.
Sure, we all think you’re an idiot now, but who will be laughing when NASA discovers a planet full of amazingly hot chicks and the rest of us dudes have to reassess all of our previous rankings?
5. The Dude that Takes Personality into Account.
Some Dude: “Did you see that chick? She’s got to be a 9 or a 10!”
Personality Guy: “No — I used to work with her, and she’s a bitch. I’d say she’s a 3, at best.”
When you start taking personality into account, you’re really missing the point of the rating system. We’re not scoring personalities here, so don’t let them cloud your judgement — a chick can be hot and be a terrible person.
You disrespect the 10-point scale by using it to measure how marry-able a girl is. Rather, you should embrace the scale for what it is: a measure of superficialities. Using it for anything else is crime against all men.
According to a report from his doctor, President Obama is in good health, with a BMI (Body Mass Index) of 23.7. Unfortunately, BMI is a severly flawed statistic, at least when being used independently to determine the health of an individual. Based on BMI ranges set by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, Tom Cruise, Tom Brady, Brad Pitt, and Yao Ming are all overweight, while Mike Tyson, Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson, and Sylvester Stallone are all obese.
Thus, BMI, as it is currently defined, is useless. So what do we do?
I propose that we change the meaning of BMI from “Body Mass Index” to “Bowel Movement Index.” Instead of using BMI to gauge how fat we are, we can use BMI as an indicator of how badly we have to poop.
Here is how it will work: Your BMI (Bowel Movement Index) will be an estimation of how long you can hold your dump before messing your drawers. The number before the decimal is hours, and the number after the decimal is minutes. Thus, if you have a BMI of 0.7 while you’re driving on the highway, you’d better start looking for a rest area. Conversely, if you have a BMI of 34.5, you can plan on relieving yourself somewhere in South Dakota.
There’s no reason for all of us to continue perpetuating a worthless stat — let’s make it something real.
I’m Johnny Tubesteak, and I have a BMI of 8.6. (Every morning, like clockwork.)
I’d estimate this guy’s BMI at about 0.2.
Step 1: Find a bag of chips that your wife has been hiding on you because you can’t be trusted with them.
Step 2: Take the bag of chips with you as you sit down on the couch and turn on the television.
Step 3: Mentally plan to eat a ridiculously small number of chips, like 3 or maybe 4.
Step 4: Put your hand inside the bag of chips and let muscle memory take over.
Step 5: About 15 minutes later, notice with incredulity that the bag of chips is half gone.
Step 6: Be genuinely disgusted with yourself, calling yourself names like “disgusting tub of lard” and “fat pile of crap.”
Step 7: Close the bag of chips and set it on the coffee table.
Step 8: After approximately 5 minutes, begin reasoning with yourself by choosing one or more of the following excuses: A) I really didn’t eat that much today. B) I’ve been pretty good about eating healthy lately. C) Life is really stressful right now. D) I coughed a few times today — and they always say that you should feed a cold.
Step 9: Reopen the bag of chips and insert your hand.
Step 10: About 15 minutes later, notice that all that is left in the bag are crumbs and broken pieces of chip.
Step 11: Lie to yourself and pretend that you are incredulous, even though you knew that this would happen as soon as you opened the bag of chips the second time.
Step 12: Restart the reasoning process with both of the following excuses: A) There is no point in putting a bag with only crumbs and broken pieces back into the cupboard. B) Once this bag is finished, I won’t have anything left to tempt me — all gluttonous desires should be forever eliminated.
Step 13: Pull every last crumb you can grab out of the bag and quickly shove them into your mouth.
Step 14: Pour the remaining, ungrabbable contents of the bag into your mouth and lick all chip residue off your fingers.
Step 15: Within the next 5 minutes, pass out as your digestive system steals all bodily energy in an attempt to begin processing the overwhelming task you unexpectedly assigned to it.
Step 16: Find yourself awakened in shame by your wife the next morning, with an empty bag by your side and small bits of chip strewn across the couch, attached to your clothes, and nestled within your facial hair.
Step 17: Tell yourself that you will never do this again, even though you know a statement like that lost all meaning years ago.
Step 18: The next time you are at the grocery store, purchase a bag of chips to prove to yourself that you can, in fact, eat only a few chips without devouring the entire bag.
Step 19: When you arrive home from the grocery store, notice that your wife has hidden the new bag of chips because you cannot be trusted with them.
Step 20: Repeat entire sequence.
