Rick Astley took the world by storm in 1987 when he released the undisputed best song of all time, Never Gonna Give You Up. The song hit #1 in 25 countries.  All the countries where the song didn’t hit number one were appropriately slapped by the gigantic hand of God and forced to endure the same ten plagues that smote Egypt back in Biblical times.

At the time of his stardom he was only 21 years old, but listening to his deep, soulful voice brought to mind a man much older and wiser. When I imagine the voice of God, Rick Astley comes to mind.

You can’t talk about Rick without discussing his dancing. A lifetime of dance training couldn’t get you to the level of dance Rick has achieved.

In his short career, Astley soared to great success in the UK with his first 8 singles being top 10 hits (a Guinness world record!), but besides a good run by his song Together Forever, he was unable to duplicate the success of Never Gonna Give You Up. With four albums to his credit, Rick retired in 1993 from music with an incredible 40 million records sold worldwide. If you thought he was a one-hit wonder you were wrong. Shame on you.

The question is, what ever happened to Rick Astley?

Retiring at the age of 27, Rick decided to live the family life with his wife, Lene Bausager, and raise his daughter, Emilie. For a few years only his daughter would hear his voice. Lullabies never sounded so good. Luckily, with a voice like that you knew he’d be back.

In 2002, Rick released the album Keep It Turned On and a Greatest Hits album. While the new album was never released outside of Europe, the Greatest Hits album remains your favorite album to this day. Look into your heart, you know this is true.

In 2005, Rick released another album, Portrait, where he covered/improved some classic songs. You might be asking why you haven’t heard of either this album or the 2002 album and the truth is that there must be a major conspiracy to prevent Rick Astley from reclaiming his stardom. This is only speculation, but world leaders must be terrified of the potential power of Rick Astley and are continually trying to squelch any chance of his imminent world domination.

In 2007, Rick Astley returned to the limelight because of an internet meme known as RickRolling. The idea behind RickRolling was to trick people into either seeing the music video, hearing the song, or reading the lyrics to Never Gonna Give You Up, at which point, you had been successfully RickRolled and, frankly, were better off for it. For example a headline might say, “Oprah Killed in Horrible Crash” and then provide a link which you’d assume is to the story, but would actually be a link to the Never Gonna Give You Up video. The genius behind this was that a whole new generation was exposed to Rick’s soothing voice.

At the peak of this Astley resurgence arguments came to a halt, children stopped being hungry, and guns stopped firing.

This spawned even more humorous and amazing Rick Astley memes such as the one below.

In 2008, Rick was named ‘Best Act Ever’ at the MTV Europe Music Awards. Most of the world’s population could be heard muttering, “It’s about bloody time.” Rick was not there to receive the award and I have no doubt the crowd departed as soon as they realized this. Due to this reward and the success of RickRolling, Never Gonna Give You Up returned to the UK charts more than two decades later, clawing it’s way to #73. The world just wasn’t ready give up on Rick just as he refused to give up on us. Together forever and never to part.

In June 2010, Rick released the single, Lights Out, which is the exact phrase people use to describe 100% of Astley’s performances. While the hit didn’t do very well commercially, there were reports of many hearts melting, couples reuniting, and frowns being turned upside-down.  Rick then became a radio DJ in London causing immigration rates to soar.

For the last couple of years Rick has answered prayers everywhere by touring and the world is a better place because of it. For a list of upcoming shows, check out his website, Official Rick Astley.

Below is a picture of Rick with his ‘weekend’ band called The Luddites. From what I’ve seen on their Facebook page they cover songs and only play in the UK. Sounds like a great show if you’re in the area. Damn Rick, you still look good.

Mr. Astley we promise we’re never gonna give you up.

If you haven’t watched this yet, do yourself a favor:

“Judd, that Junior Bacon Cheeseburger, there’s only one bite out of it, are you going to finish it or what?” I asked.

Judd Hirsch was my best friend. He’s a lot older than I am, but age isn’t important when you both love the Everyday Value Menu at Wendy’s.  He looked up from his chicken nuggets, “Touch it and lose your hand.”

I looked from my hand to the JBC and then back again. Hand or Junior Bacon Cheeseburger? Quite the dilemma. I guess it’s easier to purchase another JBC than a new hand. Well, it is for me anyway. I don’t have a hand guy.

I scanned my surroundings. I always enjoyed how Wendy’s had carpets. Not many fast food joints had carpets. I think the intention was to appear classier. They must think their clientele are pretty dumb.

I straightened my tie, dabbed the ketchup off my chin with a serviette and sprinkled some black pepper on my Value Fries. Meanwhile, the chefs worked diligently behind the counter, creating reasonably priced masterpiece after reasonably priced masterpiece.

I was out of money and still hungry. I eyed Judd’s JBC again and took a sip of my frosty. “Hey Judd, when they cancelled Dear John, did they, you know, write you a Dear John letter?”

Judd rolled his eyes and shook his head as if to say, you’re a moron.

“Did it say, ‘Dear John, by the time you read these lines, this show will be gone’?”

I could see Judd angrily crushing the life out of his Sour Cream and Chive Potato. The sour cream oozed out from between his fingers. Who gets baked potato AND fries? Potato much, Judd? Geez. You know, the fact Wendy’s offered baked potatoes was another effort to separate themselves from the rest of the fast food chains. Hey Wendy’s, we’re not imbeciles. We know this is fast food. Duh.

Judd took a deep breath and cleaned the potato from his hands. “The cancellation of Dear John was a rough time for me. I’d appreciate if you didn’t joke about it.”

I raised my hands to show I was no longer a threat. “Sorry, won’t happen again. Looks like you’ve got yourself some mashed potato there now Juddaroo.”

He smiled, I smiled. Our meal resumed peacefully. Best friends, right?

I wasn’t going to bother him anymore, but I saw how he was eating everything besides the Junior Bacon Cheeseburger he knew I coveted. I also noticed Judd was dressed way too casually. Did he think this was McDonald’s or something? Did he not see the carpet on the floor and remnants of baked potato caked between his fingers? The hell with this. I went back on the attack.

“Juddster, remember when you use to wear ridiculous sweaters? Were you trying to be like Billy Cosby? Did you seriously think you could be like Billy C?” Left, right, uppercut. Judd was going down.

A confused look spread over Judd’s face. I wasn’t surprised, the dude is almost 80. “I’m not sure what sweaters you’re referring to, but I never tried to be like Bill Cosby. Never.”

I reached into the inside pocket of my tuxedo and pulled out a picture. “You don’t think this is a Bill Cosby sweater?”

Judd was speechless.

“I showed you. So Judds, when Taxi was taken off the air, did you leave the set by–here it comes–taxi?”

Judd dropped the tortilla chip from his Chili Cheese Nachos. “Why are you torturing me?”

“Why aren’t you eating your JBC? Listen Hirschy’s kiss, let’s make a truce. Put this behind us. Done. Truced. So tell me about Kirk from Dear John. You can’t look that much like a pedophile and not be at least somewhat creepy in real life. Was he creepy?” I held up a picture of Kirk that I’d been carrying for such an occasion.

“I know what he looks like. We worked together for years. He’s a good friend of mine and not creepy at all.” Judd was gritting his teeth. When you’re as old as Judd, gritting your teeth could lead to some serious dental problems.

“Juddsy, I’ve seen rabid, snarling wolves that looked friendlier than you do right now. Relax man,” I held up my chocolate shake, “stay frosty.”

Judd stood up. “Enough of this. Our friendship is done. I’m outta here.”

He started to walk away, his Junior Bacon Cheeseburger was soon to be mine. I took one last jab, “If you’re leaving, the least you can do is write me a Dear John letter.” My Dear John jokes were clearly limited, but I love me some bad jokes.

Judd stopped dead in his tracks, turned around and stomped angrily across the beautiful floral carpet back to the booth. He then proceeded to take a pen from his pocket, a homicidal smile crept across his face.

“Uh, what’s up Judd?” I asked nervously.

He picked up the JBC and began to write on the bun. He read aloud as his pen tore through the bun, “Dear John, by the time you read these lines, I’ll be gone. Asshole.”

Upon finishing the letter he smashed the burger onto the table. If buns made for a good writing surface, kids in school would be taking notes on baguettes instead of lined paper, but that’s not the case so Judd just ended up destroying the burger all together. I didn’t dare tell him the lines were illegible, and because he had already read them aloud, reading them just seemed redundant.

I looked around, waiting for Judd to be escorted out by the Maître d’, but Judd saw himself out. Judd was gone, the JBC was ruined. Had I gone too far?

I reached into my pocket to find some tip money and found a couple of dollars hidden deep within my pocket. Looks like I could afford another JBC after all. Man, Judd is going to laugh when he hears about this.

You know what’s wrong with Skyrim these days? There’s no DLC.

17 year old Jeffrey Barker walked outside, rubbed his eyes and looked up to the sky. “There’s no dragons,” he muttered. “My mom said to go outside and have fun, but I’ve been out here for all of 30 seconds and haven’t been attacked by a bandit yet. The real sun is way too bright. And look at my hands! Do you think these suckers could throw fireballs? Real life blows.” With those words, he turned around and walked back inside slamming the door behind him.

Armchair Dovahkiin everywhere have been traversing the beautiful landscape of Skyrim for hundreds of hours looting, shouting, enchanting, smithing, killing, pillaging and even stopping to smell the nightshade since the game’s November 2011 release date.  The fans are far from done with this game though and hunger for even more Skyrim goodness (and maybe a sweetroll to boot).

“My wife asked me to wash the dishes,” said 40-year old Wisconsin resident, Richard Hawkins. “You call that a quest? The Companions asked me to kill a coven of witches and bring back their heads. Wield a dishcloth or a battle axe? Tough choice. If my wife mentions cleaning the gutters again I might be beheading a witch after all.”

Rumors have flooded the interwebs about what the possible DLC will contain: dragon mounts, horse armor, a return to Morrowind? All we know is that Skyrim developer, Bethesda, has filed a patent for the word “Dawnguard,” which we assume is either related to the upcoming DLC or a new anti-perspirant for women.

The lack of Skyrim DLC has slowly transformed regular gamers into ugly, murderous, under-the-bridge-dwelling trolls with terrible grammar, and on top of that, there seems to be an epidemic of broken caps lock buttons. It is clear the dragonborn are getting restless.

There have been roughly thousands of comments about the DLC taking an arrow to the knee and many seemingly out of place comments about BF3 being greater than MW3 and Dark Souls winning. Winning what? No one seems to know anymore.

Earlier in the month Bethesda tweeted “Tomorrow” and included the below picture. Fans and bloggers alike assumed the upcoming announcement must be about Skyrim DLC and the chants of “FUS-RO-DAH” could be heard echoing in the streets, and by streets I mean in poorly lit living rooms, bedrooms and basements everywhere.

It turned out the preview was for a new game called Dishonored and dishonored is exactly how Skyrim fans felt when they found out the awful truth. Never anger the dragonborn. Never. Dishonored, known as the game that wasn’t Skyrim DLC, is now despised by Skyrim fans everywhere.

On the bright side, Skyrim players have had a lot more free time.

“I had some sex the other day,” bragged Bryce Andrews from Saskatoon. “The last time I had sex was B.S. (Before Skyrim). With no DLC I guess I got bored and thought sex might be kind of okay. Met a girl at the bar, can’t remember her name, but I called her Lydia. I brought her home and we got busy. Of course she left midway through because I kept calling her my housecarl and demanding she give me an heir. Women, right? I cannot wait for the DLC.”

What’s worse, if you don’t have an Xbox 360 you will have to wait an additional 30 days to get your hands on the DLC.

The promise of more DLC information, a screenshot, or a release date has Skyrimmers (that sounds dirty) doing anything and everything to get more information.

“I let him put it in there,” said disgruntled girlfriend, Sarah Evans. “My boyfriend said he had exclusive screenshots from the DLC, but he’d only let me see them if I let him put the you know what in the you know where, ” She paused, grimacing and rubbing her posterior. “When I found out there were no screenshots afterwards I told him he wouldn’t be putting it anywhere for a really long time.”

Bloggers continue to bombard us with half-truths, speculation, and fantastical rumors to garner site traffic and increase the already feverish anticipation for the DLC. The titles of these blog posts are often terribly misleading in hopes of ambushing the dovahkiin and thus far these false titles have been working incredibly well. We here at CorruptCamel.com ask, who would ever stoop so low to create misleading titles?

The latest news from Bethesda’s marketing dude, Pete Hines, can be seen below:

2) I am working on getting a little more info out on Skyrim/DLC. Maybe next week? We’ll see. Also trying to confirm Kinect release date.

— Pete Hines (@DCDeacon) April 26, 2012

So we should know more by next week. In the meantime, go get some sun and converse with someone who isn’t an NPC, because not only is Skyrim DLC on the way, Diablo 3 is coming out soon too. Goodbye summer of 2012.

On May 1st, 2012 Bethesda confirmed the DLC will be called Dawnguard and released the below picture. Release date still pending.

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I attended a sporting event recently and my friend leaned over and said, “The lighting in here must be really good, because all the girls look hot from a distance, but up close, they don’t look so great.”

Ah yes, the old good from far, but far from good mystery. A mirage which has sent many a man turning and running back to his friends to give them a surprising scouting report. Upon further investigation, I realized it wasn’t the lighting making the girls exceed their hotness potential, it was the fact that the girls were decked out in sports jerseys.

Also known as The Jersey Effect (not to be confused with The Jersey Shore Effect, which is essentially destroying our planet).

Why and how does The Jersey Effect work?

The complexity of the jersey effect has scientists working night and day to formulate a solution, but really, they could have just asked me. I have it all figured out.

1. Owning a jersey increases the likelihood the girl has at least some sports knowledge. Many a girl will claim to know sports well, but upon further questioning, you realize her claim is a sham to make her seem more likable. “Uh, my favorite player on the Habs? Um…Wayne Gretzky?” A girl with a jersey may know nothing about sports, but the commitment and cost of buying a sports jersey increases the likelihood she knows the sport and wait, is she wearing a Yankees jersey without a name on the back to achieve maximum authenticity? Ya, guys dig that.

2. The girl in a jersey is often a stark contrast to the woman most men have at home. Every guy who loves sports wishes his girlfriend or wife loved sports too. Because perhaps then she would never drag him away from a game 7 to talk about feelings or tell him she doesn’t care about a no-hitter through seven innings, because Say Yes to the Dress is on RIGHT NOW.

3. The girl in the jersey, for the moment, appears to be perfect. She may be 12 rows up from you, but because she has long blonde hair and is wearing a vintage Steve Yzerman jersey, she must be perfect. Guys constantly fill a girl’s unknown qualities and characteristics with qualities and characteristics he wishes she had. What would she be like to date? Well, from the information available to you at the present time she must want to drink beer, watch sports, and hopefully, give you BJs all the time. She absolutely must be perfect.

4. Jerseys are often baggy, and because of this, her body type remains, largely, an unknown. You already feel positively about the girl in the jersey, so you make the assumption that underneath the jersey must be a flat stomach and bosom till next week’s series against the Red Sox, which falls on a Tuesday. So in short, she has bosom till Tuesday.

5. The jersey effect is amplified by beer goggles. Beer and sports go together and if you’re wearing beer goggles, the jersey effect is so powerful that from far away the girl in the jersey whose nickname was, accurately “Dogface” in College, looks hot to you.

The take home message: beware the girl in a sports jersey, she may be a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Oh, and girls who want to meet guys might want to consider picking up a jersey.

Adam Sandler

Remember the Billy Madison and Happy Gilmore days? Comedy gold. That was over a decade and half ago. Since his heyday we’ve seen a steady decline in the quality of Sandler’s films to the point where his films like You Don’t Mess with the Zohan and Jack and Jill are not only bad, but so terrible they make you shake your head in disappointment just at the shear mention of them. There are some mediocre movies Sandler mixed in (Punch Drunk Love, The Wedding Singer, etc) that make you wonder if he’s starting to find his groove again, but it’s time to face it, it’s over. The price, unfortunately, is wrong…bitch. Adam set a record by winning ten Razzies this year. Ten. That’s like ten hard slaps to the face. It’s not only the movies he stars in that stink worse than your uncle’s hangover poops, it’s also films Sandler writes and produces such as the atrocity that was Bucky Larson: Born to be a Star. I’m sorry to say this Mr. Sandler, it’s time to pick up your magic remote and press STOP.

Sarah Jessica Parker

Oh Sex and the City fans might not like this one, but SJP is really really bad. Besides Sex and the City she hasn’t done anything of note, and no, I refuse to count Failure to Launch as a success. She’s been typecast into romantic comedies for roles that could better be filled by Kate Hudson, Jennifer Lopez or Jennifer Anniston: AKA, women who don’t look like their initiation into Hollywood was a thunderous paddling with the ugly stick. The Honeymoon in Vegas is over and it’s going to take some Extreme Measures or some kind of Hocus Pocus to get her back onto the A-List. SJP, hang up your Minolo Blahniks, it’s over.

Eddie Murphy

Eddie Murphy’s prime was so long ago that most of the kids these days only know him as the donkey from Shrek. In fact, no matter what kind of crap he’s done recently and what kind of garbage he will do in the future, he will still be known as a legend in comedy. Delirious and Raw are still thought of as two of the best stand-up comedy acts ever performed. If you haven’t seen them, go and educate yourself on comedy and the awfulness of 80′s fashion. Ok, I’ve talked enough about the good, let’s get to the bad. Eddie Murphy went from being one of the foulest mouth comedians in Beverly Hills Cop and 48 Hrs, to Daddy Day Care and Dr. Dolittle. I’m not sure if age or family life castrated Mr. Murphy, but he’s never been the same. Eddie Murphy, you will always be a legend, but your 48 Hrs are up.

Jessica Alba

This was a tough one to put on the list, because Jessica Alba is very easy on the loins. I’ll admit, I’ve watched Into the Blue a little longer than anyone really should, just because she was in it, but it’s not enough. She is not a good actress. She is meant for magazine covers and in a perfect world, pornography. Good Luck Chuck, The Fantastic Four, The Love Guru? Not good Jessica, not good. Perhaps it’s time for you to go from Into the Blue to into retirement…in my pants.

Martin Lawrence

Big Momma’s House and Big Momma’s House 2. Enough said. Wazzzup, Martin? The end, we hope.

Honorable Mentions

Nick Cage - You must be wondering how Nick Cage didn’t make this list. Truth is, I don’t think he should stop making movies, I just think he should stop making so many movies that are bad. Overexposure is killing him. Well, that and his stupid face. He has a lot of good films to his credit, but just seems to take every single movie offered to him. Read the script? No, no. Just write me a check and I’ll see you on the set.

Chris Rock - It’s funny how being a  funny stand-up comic doesn’t translate into making funny movies. Thankfully, he doesn’t make many movies, which is why he’s not on the list.

Keanu Reeves - You can knock Keanu Reeves’ acting ability all day long. He is not good, but he is in a lot of decent flicks. Bram Stoker’s Dracula, The Matrix, The Devil’s Advocate, etc. How Keanu’s agent is able to trick the directors into casting Keanu is nothing short of amazing.

Who did I miss? Do you think these actors should call it quits? Do you still love their work? Do you want to share this post just for the hell of it? If so, use the buttons below.

Fifteen years after Shania Twain, in her hit song That Don’t Impress Me Much, proclaimed Brad Pitt did not impress her much, it appears the pop country star is changing her tune.

Just moments after walking out of a screening of Pitt’s film, Moneyball, a reporter cornered Shania and asked her what she thought of the movie. “I loved it!” She replied. The reporter then asked what she thought of Mr. Pitt’s performance. She smiled, “He is such an amazing actor. I absolutely love all of his movies. He is still such a heartthrob.”

When she realized the mistake she had made, her hand flew to her mouth, but it was too late. The jig was up.

Since hearing the song when he was 16, the reporter, Alex McFarland, made it his goal to prove Brad Pitt does impress Shania Twain. “Well, from the song, if you recall, there were seven things that did not impress Shania much:

• You’re a rocket scientist
• You have a car
• You think you’re Elvis or something
• You’re Brad Pitt
• You’re Captain Kirk
• You’re Tarzan
• You’re John Wayne.

“Besides Brad Pitt, the rest of the list don’t impress me so much either except for the John Wayne one, because he’s long dead. But honestly, who isn’t impressed by Brad Pitt? You are, right? Anyway, the moment I heard her say she wasn’t impressed, I was like, ‘Man, that chick is full of shit.’ I’ve spent my whole journalistic career following her in hopes this opportunity would arise. I knew it would. My Mom says I wasted my life doing this, and after achieving my lifelong goal, I’d probably have to agree, but that doesn’t mean this isn’t a great moment in my life.”

In summary, Brad Pitt DOES impress Shania Twain. Impresses her much.

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Facebook has become the ultimate interrogator. By simply asking the question, “What’s on your mind?” to its users, criminals feel compelled to confess their crimes to Facebook.

Take this latest example for instance:

LONDON, CANADA – A city known not only for its post-secondary schools (The University of Western Ontario, and Fanshawe College), but also famous for its party-going culture. A riot broke out St. Patrick’s Day on Saturday. A news van was flipped, miscellaneous items set on fire, and bottles thrown at cops.

The rioting part of this is dumb enough, but intoxicated college students are known to do idiotic things. If you think peer pressure is bad, imagine mob pressure.

An estimated 1000 people participated in the riot, and it’s clear the rioters came down with a temporary case of DUHHHHH brought on by a combination of St. Paddy’s Day + Saturday + above average temperatures. Each of those three factors lead to excessive drinking on their own in college, but you add a holiday centered around drinking all day and things are bound to get out of hand.

Out of those 1000 who participated in the riot, how many confessed to their crimes with a promise of video evidence? The level of stupidity here is through the roof, clouds and into the great beyond. Brenden, what were you thinking?

I do feel for the kid, because while many of us have participated in acts of dumbness when we were in our teens or early twenties, with stories we wanted to share with all of our friends at once, we were lucky enough to not have the ability to do it. Facebook is great, but it’s also dangerous. I guarantee Brenden learned or will learn his lesson from this, which is why I blacked out his name and blurred his picture. It’s not for me to put his name out there, I’m sure he’s already infamous in London and the surrounding area.

Simple rule of thumb: When Facebook asks you, “What’s on your mind?” don’t post anything that can get you arrested.

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Link to Printable Version of Checklist

If you think the checklist is the best thing to happen to St. Paddy’s Day since the Shamrock Shake, please share using the buttons below.

Start day with traditional Irish fry, Start drinking in the AM, Wear green, Go to an Irish pub, Drink a GuinnPRINTess, Pretend you know all the words to a Celtic song, Say the phrase: “Kiss me, I’m (Irish/shitfaced)”, Jig, Drink a McDonald’s Shamrock Shake, Witness someone fall down, Attempt an Irish Accent, Drink Bushmills, Put O’ in front of your last name, Watch at least 12 seconds of futbol, Drunk dial/text someone, Spill beer on yourself
Spill beer on someone else, Wear a festive hat, pin or tattoo, Find ugly server/bartender attractive, Witness someone throwing up, Make a new friend, Forget new friend’s name, Make-out with new friend,Hear a rant about how someone hates Guinness, Claim THIS is your last drink more than once, Throw up McDonald’s Shamrock Shake,Participate in the walk of shame, St. Patrick’s Day, St. Patty’s Day

When I saw you sitting across the coffeehouse, slurping an iced coffee,  I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. Had we met before, in this life or another?

Your jeans were so tight right down to the ankles, and your bright white shoes were high-topped and untied, but it wasn’t your jeans and shoes that entranced me.  No, it was your face. There was something about your face that held my gaze.

If your face were on the back of a shampoo bottle I’d never bring a magazine into the bathroom.

You wore Beats By Dr. Dre on top of your Justin Bieber-esque haircut. The music pulsing from your headphones sounded like an orchestra of cartoon laser guns and high speed wall-kicking. A hunched over elderly woman tapped you on the shoulder, pointed at your headphones and gestured for you to turn down the volume. You smiled an all gum smile that even a horse would shudder at, and shook your head no and shooed her away. For me, the music faded into the background. Your face. Your face is all I wanted to look at. I couldn’t understand what drew me in, and until I did, I could not, would not look away.

If your face was on the front of a box of kids cereal, I’d never do the maze on the back.

My heart raced as I stared at you. My hands shook eagerly. I wanted to cry and laugh and scream all at the same time. Your face, I could frame it and hang it in my living room. Guests would see it and say, Hmm. They too, wouldn’t be able to look away. I’d ask why they were mesmerized by your face in the hopes they could solve the mystery. I suspect they could not.

You took a bite of a whoopie pie and chomped on it like a dog eating peanut butter. You wiped a bit of the cream filling from your face with your hand and then smeared it on the chair next to you even though there was a napkin sitting on the table. The server saw this and mouthed, What the fuck, and stared at your face. At that moment I understood why I couldn’t stop staring at your face…

I wanted to punch it. Oh so badly. I wanted to slingshot my fist right into your stupid mouth and send you sprawling to the floor. Once I broke the ice others would lineup to follow my lead. Hand shakes and high fives would commence as everyone participated in and enjoyed a parade of punches right into your goddamn stupid, stupid face.

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Get off your high horse, you’ve picked your nose before. Look in the mirror, you’re picking your nose right now! Some will tell you never to pick your nose, but that’s like telling you never to breathe. People fought hard for the freedom to pick your nose. Never forget that. Nose picking is part of the constitution.

Before you haphazardly jam your finger up your nose again, here are some ground rules.

1. There IS shame in picking your nose. This is the golden rule. You don’t wipe your ass in public and you shouldn’t pick your nose in public either. Fingering any of your orifices is best done behind closed doors.

2. Puddle jumping is not recommended. Simple rule of thumb (or finger): if it’s wet blow it. If it’s dry, you’re good to go.  Realistically, if you have tissue nearby, always use it first. Picking should be used as a last resort to dislodge that beautiful mother lode.

3. Wash your hands after picking. Don’t be picking noses and shaking hands, boogies are full of germs. If you disagree with this rule let me know in advance so I know never to share popcorn with you.

4. If your nose is bleeding you’re picking too much. When picking your nose becomes an obsessions, it’s called rhinotillexomania. Yes,  rhinotillexomania contains the words “rhino” and “mania”, but that doesn’t make it cool.

5. It isn’t hard to dispose of the green shard. The pick-n-flick is a favorite of many, but can come back to haunt you down the road when someone notices the lime stain on your white wall. And before you ask, no, painting your walls green is not a valid solution. Also, smearing your boogs on the bottom of desks and couches is disgusting.

6. Being in a car does not make you invisible, everyone can see you mining for green gold through the window. I’m not sure how people got the impression that what happens in your car stays in you car. I can see you picking, and I’m going to wave at you and mime your picking just to let you know.

7. Picking with a tissue is a cleaner method of picking, but still not clean enough that you should do it at the dinner table. Never pick or even blow at the dinner table. That’s funny, I don’t remember asking for mint jelly with my lamb.

8. Don’t stick anything up your nose besides your finger. Fingers weren’t made for picking things up, they were specially made for picking your nose. You might be tempted to use a chopstick, butter knife or corkscrew, but unless you want a third nostril or are trying to scratch an itch on your brain, our resident nose picking expert, @Douchefuck, strongly advises against it.

9. Classic rule, but always a good one: You can pick your friends, and you can pick your nose, but you can’t pick your friend’s nose

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