Best Use of Duct Tape?

Lowbrow Answer: On a Duct
Really? You couldn't think of anything more creative to do with this than use it for its intended purpose? Don't you know anything about art? The key is to take an object with a specific function and employ it in some other way. Like using a lobster as a phone (Dalí), a urinal as a sculpture (Duchamp), or your penis as a periscope (me and my brother in the tub when we were five). Now THAT'S art.

What the hell is a duct anyway? I've never seen one in my life. My underlings tell me it's something that gets used in ventilation or plumbing or one of those other blue collar arenas that I never deal with. Why would I? That's why God invented Mexicans and people from Buffalo.


Middlebrow Answer: On an Open Would
Band-Aids are for pussies. And what's this racist shit with all of them being peach-colored? Fuck that. White people never need Band-Aids anyway; they're too chickenshit to ever do anything dangerous in the first place. It's tough to hurt yourself when you spend all your time on golf courses or at PTO meetings.

What's better than a Band-Aid? Duct tape. Cut yourself shaving? Duct tape. Get stabbed by a scimitar while on duty in Persia with the Roman Legion? Duct tape. Blow a hole in your chest trying to make a pipe bomb out of a bowling pin? Duct tape. It's tough, it's sticky, and you'll look badass with a big silver bandage. It hurts like a bitch when you rip it off, but you can quit your whining and suck it up.


Highbrow Answer: On a Duck
Stupid ducks pooping all over my dock and putting yeast infections into my lake. You're overweight rats with feathers and wings. Quit walking around on my beach, waking me up in the morning with your incessant quacking. What the hell do you have to talk about? You're a duck. You wake up, eat, poop, eat, poop, and go back to bed. Shut the hell up. It's not like you've got interesting news to share about the Dow Jones.

And I'm sorry, but migration? Really? Just buy a heater, for Christ's sake. If I flew 2,000 miles south every time I got cold, I'd never get anything done. Even if you did decide to go someplace tropical, why the hell would you ever come back? That's like somebody deciding to return to New Jersey after spending 10 years living on a yacht in Polynesia. Just makes no sense.