Best Way to Avoid a Speeding Ticket?

Lowbrow Answer: Don't Speed
Booooooring. What, you want me to actually drive 35 mph? Are you kidding? I'm, like, a huge deal. I have places to be. People to let fawn over me. I can't be driving no speed limit. The speed limit is for grannies and nerds and people who watch "CSI: Miami." Fuck you, David Caruso. You can kiss my 55 mph ass.

I'm not into laws, anyway. They take all the fun out of life. I can't smoke inside, I can't skateboard in the Louvre, I can't stab my obnoxious neighbor with a 15th century Japanese broadsword, I can't marry my 18-year-old Jamaican pool boy in Texas. If I followed all the laws of this world, my life would be nothing more than a dull series of meals and masturbation until I died.


Middlebrow Answer: Buy a Radar Detector
There is something pretty James Bond about a radar detector. It seems like one of those impossible gadgets that only exist in action movies. Like guns that shoot around corners or that giant battering ram that looks like a wolf from Lord of the Rings. Imagine if James Bond had one of those. Man, he'd be unstoppable: "Ms. Moneypenny. Load that giant Wolf's Head battering ram thing into the back of my Aston Martin. I have a debt to settle with Goldfinger."

Although, have you ever noticed how everyone that has one of these is a douchebag? You never see some nice homemaker with a radar detector. It's always some asshole in a 1989 Thunderbird with bumper stickers on the back that say, "Make mine veal" and "No means yes, and yes means harder." Fuck those dudes. If only there were some sort of plague that was transmitted through Ed Hardy clothing. Then we'd be rid of them for good.


Highbrow Answer: Murder the Police Officer
This is going to be awesome, I promise. When the cop comes over to your window and says, "Do you have any idea how fast you were going?" You just turn to him, squint your eyes, and say, "Not as fast as the bullets from this Gatling Gun." He'll then say, "What Gatling Gun?" That's when you pull out your Gatling Gun and spray him in the face with it. You'll be a legend forever. Not even Bruce Willis is that cold. Score!

Murder is pretty awesome. It has all the ingredients of highbrow soup: violence, emotional distress, ruined families, and heartless brutality. Now, I know what some of you are thinking. Let me just tell you that you're wrong. Murder isn't sad and terrible. VH1's television programming is sad and terrible. Paris Hilton's vagina is sad and terrible. Murder is ruthless and cruel. Hmmm, what else is ruthless and cruel? Oh, that's right. LIFE ITSELF.

Best Way to Ask a Woman for Sex?

Lowbrow Answer: "Do you want to come over and watch a movie?"
Really? You meet a pretty girl in a bar and this is the line you use? You sound like an undergraduate econ major at some bourgeoisie New England college for kids who didn't get into Harvard. You know, like Trinity or Amherst. Gross. The only women you're going to get with this line will be polo shirt-wearing, sailing-in-the-summer-skiing-in-the-winter, daddy's little girl sorority sisters who will be booooooring in bed anyway. I'd rather watch paint dry.

Let's say you do actually get a girl to come home with you. Then what? You gonna actually sit down and watch a movie? Which one? How about The Goonies? You're already acting like an infant, you may as well go all the way. Besides, nothing gets a lady more in the mood than watching Sloth and Chunk make fun of that kid who played the fat hobbit in Lord of the Rings.


Middlebrow Answer: "You look tired. You want a massage?"
There's something a little smarmy about inviting a woman to take her clothes off to let you rub her, and acting like you're doing her a favor. Like she owes you something after you cover her in scented oil and rub her jubblies. Come on. You don't see armed robbers wandering into a Wells Fargo and volunteering to take some cash out of the vault so that the bank saves storage space.

I will say this: giving massages sucks. It hurts my hands, it takes forever, and all the woman does is lie there like a dead salmon, moaning about how hard her day was. I'm happy to do it, of course; I'm just sayin'. Ladies, just be sure to reward your man after he gives you a massage with something like a blowjob or football tickets or a blowjob.


Highbrow Answer: "Do you want to have sex?"
Here's a piece of advice for all you horny men out there: woman aren't idiots. They may be emotional and they may be irrationally excited about "Sex and the City," but they're not stupid. So why not man up and just say what you're thinking? They may reject your offer, but at least they'll respect your forwardness. What do you have to lose except your pride and your ego and your self-respect? Who the hell needs those things anyway?

The other point to remember is that any girl you meet is just as horny as you are; she's just better at hiding it. Women are like French pastries; soft and dainty on the outside, dark and naughty on the inside. You meet a cute girl and want to have sex with her? Cut the bullshit and tell her. She'll probably get turned on by your directness. Trust me, later, when she's ramming a nine iron up your ass and riding you like a schizophrenic jockey, you'll be happy you didn't wuss out and ask her to come over and watch a movie.

Who Should Bella Swan Be With?

Lowbrow Answer: Edward Cullen
Hey. Broody McGee. This isn't a Calvin Klein commercial; stop staring wistfully off-camera. And what's with the anguish? You're wealthy, you're immortal, and you're dating the hottest chick in town. Why don't you take off your pouty-pants and have some fun. Go bowling. Fly a kite. Stop acting like the lead singer of some Canadian indie band that opened for the Arcade Fire once but that nobody's ever heard of.

There is literally no reason for Bella to be in love with this doofwang. He's freezing cold, he can't bone her without ripping her to shreds, he's all obsessed with marriage, he's like 158 years old, and he plays stupid mind games. (Like purposely mentioning marriage in front of Jacob. Heartless bastard.)

To summarize. Edward is a frigid, elderly, abstinent conservative who says mean things to hurt others. So, Orrin Hatch. Bella is in love with Orrin Hatch.


Middlebrow Answer: Jacob Black
Does anybody else wonder where Jacob is keeping all these pairs of khaki shorts? He morphs into a wolf, his shorts rip off, and then he's back into human form with a brand new pair. Does he have a secret butler or something? Where is he buying them? His khaki shorts budget must be huge. I sure hope he has a member card at the Gap.

Jacob is the fucking man. He's handsome, he's loyal, and he's honest. He's the human version of a Golden Retriever. Plus you could do your laundry on his abs. He's also Native American, which means if you married him, your kids would get totally sweet deals on college tuition. Bonus.


Highbrow Answer: Alice Cullen
Fuck Edward and Jacob. Stupid boys. Who wants all that male ego and testosterone when you can have Alice's sultry smile and smooth skin? Alice is hot. She's smart, she's sexy, and I bet hooking up with her would be something like riding a bull that's high on PCP. Yeee-haw.

Oh, and no big deal, but Alice can SEE THE FUTURE. Um, awesome. Think of how much easier your life would be. Hey Alice, am I going to get that job that I want? Hey Alice, will Barack Obama get reelected? Hey Alice, is this thing on my butt just a pimple or should I go see a doctor? Oh, Alice, I love you.

Best Outdated Science?

Lowbrow Answer: Eugenics
You know your "science" is in trouble when I can disprove the whole field in one short blog entry. Let's look at some of the primary tenants of Eugenics, shall we? Come on along with me.

1. Black or brown people are quantitatively dumber than white people.
Oh, yeah. Because Frederick Douglass, Gandhi, and Nelson Mandela are fucking idiots.

2. Black or brown people are physically inferior to white people.
Can you say, "Jesse Owens?"

3. People with physical deformities are lesser human beings than those that are able-bodied.
I guess you're right on that one. I mean, what did retards like Stephen Hawking, FDR, or Itzahk Perlman ever do for me?

Eugenics can blow me. Human diversity is rad. Nazis suck. And REM is the best band ever. (Okay, that last one doesn't really go, but it's still true.)


Middlebrow Answer: Alchemy
Alchemy is an ancient art that attempts to change base metals into gold. Literally, it's using chemistry to make money. And by "make money," I don't mean like how a chemist today would go into his soul-sucking corporate douche job at Pfizer and spend all day creating boner medicine makes money. I mean like taking a wad of raw Aluminum or copper or whatever and using rad chemicals like Borax to literally turn it into money. Awesome.

(Speaking of Borax, how great a name would that be for a Scandinavian Metal Band? Right?)

There is one problem with Alchemy; it doesn't work. Like, at all. So when you say you're an "Alchemist," what you're really saying is, "I'm a failure." It's the same as introducing yourself as a Cold-Fusion physicist or a member of the 1980 USSR Olympic hockey team or Lindsay Lohan. Nobody wants to be those things. Especially that last one.


Highbrow Answer: Kremlinology
No, really, this is a serious thing. I didn't make it up. It's the study of Soviet politics in an effort to understand the inner workings of an opaque central government. If you don't have a highbrow boner from that definition alone, stop reading this blog. No, I mean it. Stop reading. Why don't you go see what's happening in the Charlie Sheen case over on TMZ.com or wherever it is that you get your horrid prole news. Go ahead. I'll wait.

What's great about Kremlinology is that all of its leading scholars are obscure philosophers from the 1940's and 50's. Badasses like Zbigniew Brzezinski, Llewellyn Thompson, and Hélène Carrère d'Encausse. I think I'm going to buy a litter of puppies and name them all after famous Kremlinologists. It'll be a great way to meet women at the dog parks.

Me: "Hey, I like your dogs. What are their names?"
Hot Brunette: "Rover and Milo. How about yours?"
Me: "The little one is Llewellyn and the dalmatian is Zbigniew."

Best Judd Apatow Film?

Lowbrow Answer: Knocked Up
See, the point of romantic comedies is that you're supposed to like the main characters. I shouldn't be spending the entire film wanting to ram a Mongolian Horse into the anus of the lead actress. Can somebody just shoot Katherine Heigl already? Aryan bitch. Her continued existence is a mockery of modern cinema, just like the Transformers movies or the Wayans Brothers.

And I'm sorry, but this isn't the 1500's. You don't have to keep a baby that you don't want. You get pregnant by some dumbass with a Jew-fro, you abort that shit. Grab a rusty coat-hanger and pull it right out of there. If for no other reason than the kid is going to grow up to look like Seth Rogen. And nobody wants that.


Middlebrow Answer: Funny People
Involves death or cancer in some way: +1 point
Involves dramatic comedy or comedic drama in some way: -1 point
Involves semi-coherent conversations about existentialism: +1 point
Involves poorly-written jokes about boobs and penises: -1 point
Involves Eric Bana: +2 points
Involves Seth Rogen: -2 points
Involves watching rugby: +1 point
Involves watching Adam Sandler: -1 point

Well. Look at that. Dead even.


Highbrow Answer: There isn't one
Here's the thing. Using rambling and incoherent dialogue may make your film sound more "believable" and "realistic," but it also makes your characters look... Oh, I dunno, rambling and incoherent. Yes, your dialogue sounds real. I get it, the characters talk over each other and say "Umm" and "Ahh." But I didn't come to the movies to get closer to idiot, sex-crazed teenagers; I came to the movies to get farther away from them. Well, that and to see the previews. God, I love previews.

The biggest problem with Apatow, however, is that all of his films are the fucking same. It's just one big annoying formula:

(Dopey, Love-lorn guy + Out-of-his-league girl) X (Bathroom humor + Sexy hi-jinks) / Seth Rogen = Judd Apatow Empire

Blow me, Seth Rogen. You being untalented and "average guy" doesn't make you endearing; it just makes you untalented and average.

Best Toy Story Villian?

Lowbrow Answer: Stinky Pete (Toy Story 2)
He's old. He's fat. And he smells. Remind me again why we're supposed to be afraid of him? I feel like even Jessie the Yodelin' Cowgirl could have beaten the shit out of this doofwang. Although, I guess that would have made for a pretty anti-climactic film:

Woody: Quick Buzz, we have to get out of here before Stinky Pete shows up!
Jessie: Stinky Pete? Are you serious? That's who we're running from? He's like an Alzheimer's Santa Clause.

Jessie stops. Turns. Bitch-slaps Stinky Pete, who falls to the floor crying.

Buzz: Good work, Jessie. Well. That solves that problem. Hmmm. So. Umm. You guys wanna go get a beer or something?


Middlebrow Answer: Sid (Toy Story)
Can we get this kid some Ritalin? Or maybe a lobotomy? And where the hell are his parents while he's using illegal explosives and setting fires? You know how sometimes you see those serial killers on the news who have murdered and skinned 36 women using only an ice-cream scoop and you wonder where the hell they came from? Sid. Sid is where they came from.

You do have to admire his artistry though. He's got a Doctor-Mengele-meets-FAO-Schwartz thing going on. Some of his creations look like those weird little Japanese toys that sell for $16 a pop. What a racket. I should start cutting the heads off barbie dolls and replacing them with fishing hooks and razor blades. I'll call them, "Barbie Mauls" and make a fortune. I'll probably get rich way faster that way then with this Cocaine business I've got going. Damn junkies always asking to pay on layaway.


Highbrow Answer: Lots-O'-Higgin' Bear (Toy Story 3)
This dude is twisted. He lures you in with his delightful laughter and his stomach that smells like fresh strawberries only to tear you away from your friends and lock you in a prison. He's the Adolf Hitler of plush toys. (Historical Fun Fact: Hitler suffered from a rare genetic condition that caused his stomach to smell like Alabama Sweet Cherries)

And how about his henchmen? Jesus. I'm going to have nightmares about "Big Baby" until the day I die. There's nothing scarier than fucked-up looking children. Well, maybe spiders. With their furry legs and those little fangs. And don't even get me started on snakes. Sheesh. Give me the willies.

Best Fad Toy?

Lowbrow Answer: The Boomerang
Let me get this straight. I throw it, and it comes back. I throw it again, and it comes back again. I throw it a third time and... well, you get the point. Or, perhaps more appropriately, the complete lack thereof. Boomerangs were only fun for those kids who ate a lot of paste and had their name sewn to the outside of every piece of clothing they owned. Poor, dumb bastards.

I hate Australia. With their stupid accents and their shrimp on the barbie and their Crocodile Dundee. And what's the deal with Koalas? They look so cute and then when I try to pet one, it rips my esophagus out through my eye sockets. Mean little prick. No wonder you're endangered. Maybe if you were a little nicer, I'd stop cutting down your Eucalyptus trees to print cheap pornography and X-Men comics.


Middlebrow Answer: Pet Rock
This is some existential shit. Can a rock be your friend? Is there some kind of cosmic connection between nature and humanity? If I imbue an inanimate object with my own set of emotions, does that object become animate? How can light be both a particle and a wave? If a tree falls in the woods and nobody is around to hear it, does that mean we're still inside the Matrix? Am I the only thing that's real, or is reality real and I'm just a version of myself inside that reality? E.T. phone home?

To be fair, however, punch yourself in the face if you ever bought one of these. It's just a rock. Like, a rock. Ya know, one of those stony things outside on the ground. You've heard of "outside" right? It's that place you go when you aren't strapped to your computer at your trivial job, sipping a double-double whipless half-caf mochachino and updating your Facebook status to: "Sipping a double-double whipless half-caf mochachino!"


Highbrow Answer: The Rubik's Cube
Remember how playing with one of these wasn't any fun? How you'd just spin the sides over and over until the thing feel apart and your dog started using it as a chew toy? Remember how your parents would encourage you to try and figure it out, even though you were much happier eating mud or shoving army men up your nose? Of course you remember all that. You're proletariat filth with no respect for three-dimensional geometry or mathematics.

The cube was created in 1974 by Hungarian sculptor and architect Erno Rubik. Those Hungarians. They can do anything. They invented ballpoint pens, noiseless matches, and holography. Their country was founded by direct descendants of Atila the Hun. (Hence, "Hun"gary) They have the highest rates of male cancer and female suicide in Europe. Ah, female suicide. The great trump card in the game of highbrow poker.