Best Colloquialism?

Lowbrow Answer: "Not Gonna Lie"
Have your friends been spouting this one at you like some kind of record player on angel dust? Yeah, me too. I don't get it. My friends are pretty good people. I'm not hanging out with baby rapists or armless Thai hookers or Lindsey Lohan. I feel pretty confident in assuming that they aren't lying to me when we speak. Except for my friend Phil. That guy is always elbows deep in shady dealings. I swear he's in the KGB.

Where does this bullshit stop? Am I going to have to start prefacing everything I say with a dumb list of stuff I'm not about to do?

- Not gonna molest a donkey, Tina, but that dress looks incredible on you.
- Not gonna stuff a quiche through that little window at the bank, but man is it hot outside.
- Not gonna learn how to write backwards in Finnish, but I totally love Radiohead.


Middlebrow Answer: "That's What She Said"
Okay, Steve Carrel is kind of amazing. And "The Office" is a funny show. Sometimes. When John Krasinski isn't smiling at the camera like a fourth-grader on a sugar high. But this one has got to stop. Suddenly every idiot thinks he can spout punchlines like Dan Akroyd. (Funny, edgy Saturday Night Live Dan Akroyd, not dumpy, embarrassing Yogi Bear Dan Akroyd.) If you weren't funny before you memorized this phrase, you REALLY aren't funny afterward.

The worst part about this one is that most people are morons and don't know how to use it properly. It's like watching a beagle trying to fly a 747:

Me: So then she told me to stick my penis into her vagina.
Idiotface: That's what she said!
Me: ...I know. I just told you she did.

Me: Do you have the numbers for the R15 report yet?
Dumbass McGee: That's what she said!
Me: I'm going to stab you with a curling iron.


Highbrow Answer: "Heretofore"
Pop quiz, asshole. Define "heretofore." Can't do it? Didn't think so. No wonder you got stuck at Eastern Michigan University getting a degree in "General Studies." Idiot. Heretofore basically means "up to the present time." Try using it in a sentence. It'll drive the babes in the Critical Theory section of the library wild:

"Heretofore, Zizek's writing had seemed petulant and Philistine." Philistine."
"Philip Hearsey's sculpture work has created heretofore unimaginable visual commentaries on global vicissitude."

(If you don't know who Zizek or Hearsey are, my interest in you as a person has heretofore been grossly misguided.)

Best Hippopotamus?

Highbrow Answer: This one with the Baby
Oh my god that is the cutest fucking thing I have ever seen in my entire life. Look at that. Just look at it. Goddamn miracle of nature. Makes me want to vomit on a puppy or choke an infant with a rainbow it's so freaking adorable.

That is some committed parenting. I don't see you in the pool at the YMCA, following your kid around underwater to make sure he's doing the breast stroke properly. Although, after that messy incident with the beard trimmer and the underage lifeguard, I can see why they don't let you in the pool at the YMCA anymore.


Highbrow Answer: This one yelling at you
Hippos are awesome because they seem slow and docile until they're pissed off - then they chase you down at 60mph and break you in half. Having trouble picturing it? Just imagine running from an angry Volkswagan Jetta with 7-inch teeth.

Hippos are so terrifying that even hardcore predators like lions and tigers and velociraptors avoid them. They usually announce their presence with by trumpeting loudly from their throats. I wish I could do that everywhere I went: "GOOD MORNING EVERYONE, I HAVE ARRIVED AT THE LIBRARY. I'LL BE IN NON-FICTION." Then people would know not to fuck with me.


Highbrow Answer: This one Leaping through the Air
Are you seeing this shit? It's a fucking Hippo Torpedo. Be honest, have you ever seen anything more awesome in your whole life? I didn't think so. Imagine getting a few of these high on PCP and then loading them into a cannon and launching them into Afghanistan. The war would be over in matter of days.

Does anyone else think that "Hippo Torpedo" is a great name for an indie album? I can see the Arcade Fire or Vampire Weekend or one of those other really popular but annoyingly off-key bands releasing it. Maybe the Flaming Lips should do it and Wayne Coyne can spend the next 8 months touring the country in a rubber hippopotamus suit. Crazy bastard.

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.

My New Favorite Band is...

Lowbrow Answer: Mumford & Sons
Where they hell did these douchebags come from? All of a sudden, every girl I've ever met is selling her ovaries to get a ticket to a Mumford & Sons concert. I don't get it. They sound like a roofing company or a real estate firm. If you're going to pander to upper-middle class girls with semi-coherent, vaguely poetic ramblings about love, at least have the common courtesy to call yourself "Coldplay" or "John Mayer."

Every girl tells me how dreamy it is that Mumford & Sons used to be homeless and play on the streets of London or wherever. I'm sorry, but women don't like poor dudes. They like diamonds and Audi's and guys who pick up the tab at The Geisha House. I know you like to think that Mumford & Sons are some motley band of starving artists, but they're not. They're on Island Records, for Christ's sake. They probably use hundred-dollar bills to blow coke off Megan Fox's chest.


Middlebrow Answer: Florence and the Machine
Okay, so she's pretty hip. And her voice is sometimes great. And "Dog Days Are Over" is a fucking good song. But I already spent all my energy liking this band back when they were called Metric /La Roux / The Gossip / Goldfrapp / The Yeah Yeah Yeahs / Silversun Pickups. Does the planet really need another tone-deaf anorexic girl mincing around stage in platform shoes? Hey honey, see that thing you're doing where you're not quite hitting any of the notes? That's called going flat.

I don't really get this whole heroin chic look that Kate Moss made famous. You know, that thing where you wear a lycra unitard from the 1980's and you overuse dark blue eye makeup and you wear stilettos that are 15 inches too high and your legs look like fleshy toothpicks and you vomit up every packet of Splenda that you allow yourself to eat and your boyfriend looks like he was kicked out of The Strokes for being too cool. Can somebody explain it to me? Mischa Barton, I'm looking at you.


Highbrow Answer: The London Philharmonic Orchestra
You ever notice how pop music is totally inane and stupid? Yeah, me too. Here's an idea. Don't listen to it. You want well-crafted, profound art? Bach is your boy. Or Mozart. Or Liszt. Or ANY OTHER European classical composer. (Except for Wagner. Antisemitic prick.) As much as I appreciate Katy Perry's futile attempts at harmony, I think I'll stick to Beethoven's fifth. You may have heard of it. It's the one with the 57 separate instrumental lines and 15 sections of syncopated rhythms. Oh, but yeah, "California Gurls" is great too.

It's hard to argue with 40 different instruments all playing the same song. Look, I like Lady Gaga as much as the next guy, but her music really suffers from a distinct lack of contrabassoon. I think that earthy tone could really add some depth to songs like "Pokerface" or "That one where she's dressed like a French sex toy in the video." Mankind has taken the time to invent the English Horn - why not use it? (I will hunt you down and kill you in your sleep if you ever say anything bad about the English Horn. Goddamn miracle of nature.)

Best Form of Torture?

Lowbrow Answer: Waterboarding
Waterboarding sounds like something douchbags do behind a speed boat on a lake in New Hampshire: "Hey bro, grab some PBR and your Volcom shorts - we're going Waterboarding." Couldn't you give it a cooler name, like "Land-Swimming" or "H2-Oh-No" or "The Aquaman Surprise."

The idea here is that you make the victim feel like he is drowning. The problem is that every account I've ever read of drowning says that it's actually quite a euphoric feeling. So you've got a bad guy and you want him to tell you about all his bad guy plans and you're going to do that by making him feel euphoric over and over and over again? No wonder we can't find Osama Bin Laden.


Middlebrow Answer: The Judas Cradle
Now THAT is how you name a torture device. I'm terrified of this thing just based on the title alone. The deal is, they chain your neck to the wall and then make you sit on a little pyramid until the thing slides up inside you and splits you open. Brutal. It's slow, it's jagged, and it's a real pain in the ass. Literally. Imagine getting an enema with a bowling pin.

Although I can't help but feel that there are few people who would enjoy being chained to the wall and having a small pyramid rammed into their asshole. Like those guys that are turned on by a girl throwing up onto a balloon, or those woman who think it's hot when a dude puts a hamster into the end of his dong. It ain't torture if Kinky McGee is getting off on it.


Highbrow Answer: The Head Crusher
This one is pretty straightforward. No bells, no whistles. Just your eyeballs squeezed out of their sockets as your head is crushed in a vice. Apparently the first thing that happens is your teeth are pressed up into your jaw. Then your forehead collapses and your brain begins leaking out of the cracks in your skull. So. Just to recap. Teeth into jaw. Forehead collapse. Leaky brain. You could draw a picture of this device in red crayon and I'd still tell you everything I know. Jesus.

The Head Crusher was primarily used in that delightful little period of Iberian history known as The Spanish Inquisition. Some priest in a dress would stick your head into the device and ask you if you believed in Jesus. You say no, they turn the crank. You say yes, they burn you alive. Man. Kinda makes all that child molesting look pale in comparison. (too soon?)

I think Gay People are...

Lowbrow Answer: "Punching Bags."
Hey. Homophobic dickheads of America. Can we stop with all the I'm-going-to-make-this-gay-kid's-life-so-miserable-that-he-kills-himself bullshit? What are you, five? Newsflash. This isn't 1169. The world is round. The Earth isn't the center of the universe. Fire is a chemical reaction, not a mystical punishment from God for touching yourself. This is the modern era. We have a black president. Women vote. I can film myself masturbating and then watch it back in less than ten seconds. Get with the times. Homophobia is out of style, along with public lynching and liking Weezer.

I don't understand homophobia in the first place. What the hell is so scary about gay people? I'd get it if you were afraid of sharks or spiders or Mike Tyson. But gays? They smell nice, they drink good wine, and they're great at figure skating. What the hell is so scary about that? Although, to be fair, that Russian figure skater from the Olympics was terrifying. That guy looked like he could strangle a grizzly bear. With his hands. On ice. In a purple and gold leotard.


Middlebrow Answer: "Funny on 'Modern Family.'"
Yes, Cameron and Mitchell are hilarious. Yes, so are Will and Jack. Yes, so are all five of those nice ladies from 'Queer Eye.' I'll even admit that Rosie O'Donnell made me giggle a few times. But only when she wasn't ranting about Cutie Patooties or inviting some fourth-grader to build her desk out of blue marshmallows. But here's the real question about all these people: Are we laughing with them or at them?

The problem with gays in the media is that they're never just people; they're always gay people. I want a baddass firefighter character to join the cast of "Rescue Me," and only after he has saved like 12 people from a burning building and rescued three Iranian babies from a flaming car does he mention that he's gay. And when he does, the other dudes pass him a PBR and respond with, "So?"


Highbrow Answer: "Just as uninteresting as the rest of us."
So you like ballet. And Broadway musicals. And penises in your butt. Who cares. I have more important things to worry about than who's tying you to the bed and covering you with KY jelly at night. I have Marx to read. I have Adorno to critique. I can't be bothered with the trivialities of your sex life. I don't care whether you're fucking a man or a woman; either way, the sex you're having is way less amazing than the sex I'm having. Trust me.

Here's an idea. Let's just all stay out of each other's personal lives, okay? You want to have sex with a dude? Go for it. You want to make play-doh replicas of the Teletubbies and throw them at old people? Great. You want to dress like a 3rd century sod farmer and lip sync to Tina Turner in your bathroom? Awesome. Good luck. I'll stay out of your way if you stay out of mine. 123 Go.

Best of the Original Pokemon?

Lowbrow Answer: Pikachu
Admit it. You only like Pikachu because you can't come up with the name of any other Pokemon. You uneducated swine. This is a serious piece of Japanese culture and you just ignore it like it's a Jury Duty letter or a positive test result for HPV. Well. I have news for you. Pikachu sucks balls. Who wants a pet that electrocutes you when you touch it? What the hell sense does that make? It's like renting a stripper who infects you with the Bubonic Plague if she takes her clothing off. Just makes no sense.

And can somebody put a gag into this thing's mouth? Jesus. All day with the "Pika! Pika!" Hey Pikachu. Blow me! Blow me! How about you stop running around in the forest and get yourself into a classroom. Maybe learn Portugese or Farsi or one of those other South American languages. Then maybe I'd understand what the hell you're trying to say.


Middlebrow Answer: Squirtle
This little guy is a menace. He bows to no man. Fuck you and your rules - he's going drinking. Squirtle is a water-based Pokemon who eventually evolves into Blastoise. (See him here.) I'm sorry, is that artillery in your turtle shell? Do you literally grow mortars out of your shoulders? Jesus, that's awesome. The only thing that I grow out of my shoulders are pimples and that weird rash I got in Slovakia last year.

I will say, however, that "Squirtle" is a bullshit name. It's not badass AT. ALL. It sounds like:
- A sexual maneuver involving three or more bodily fluids.
- Some kind of detergent-based liquid ecstasy.
- The annoying, wets-himself sidekick in a Nickelodeon cartoon.
- An Eddie Murphy movie.


Highbrow Answer: Wigglytuff
Look at that shit. It's the bastard offspring of a rabbit and a Bean Bag Chair. On Acid. I want one. I want three. I want as many as it takes to build a pink army of fluffy, adorable destruction. That's how they get you. You look down and think, "Awwww..." right as the thing leaps onto your face and chews through your neck. Awesome.

Pokemon scientists (Umm, what? How do I sign up to be one of THOSE?) think that the thin layer of permanent tears around Wigglytuff's eyes are to prevent moondust from blurring its vision. I'm sorry, "permanent tears?" That's the most highbrow thing I've ever heard. It sounds like the name of symphony by Penderecki or a ladies' underwear line designed by Bjork. Either way, I'm sold.