Escape from metrosexuality: use barbecue sauce for lotion

In this burgeoning age of unchecked metrosexuality, which is neatly sandwiched between the… In this burgeoning age of unchecked metrosexuality, which is neatly sandwiched between the flannel excesses of the grunge era and the yet-to-be-realized Codpiece Period, nothing is more important than physical appearance.

The emergence of “abs,” which are, of course, a conspiracy perpetrated by Banana Republic and the sadistic manufacturers of Michelob Ultra – in combination with the machinations of the United Strip Mall Manicurists Association – have force-fed the public the idea that it is perfectly acceptable to look queerer than a three-dollar bill while at the same time enjoying all the benefits of heterosexuality.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

Our point is simply that this whole metrosexual life-choice emphasizes certain aesthetic qualities that would never occur to the average John Candy who passes for a college male.

In practical terms, or what certain effete philosophy majors might term “pragmatically,” what does this mean to you? We guys and gals who don’t understand the advantage of moisturizing lotion over, say, barbecue sauce, would seem to be at a competitive disadvantage when faced with product-laden, pinstriped, nose-hair-plucked, Ugg-boot-wearing savants of seduction.

But with our controversial and battle-tested method, you too can get back in the game with nary a visit to the Jack Tripper Memorial Metrosexual Rehabilitation Clinic. It’s as simple as a cursory self-examination under our “You’re No Pierce Brosnan” Plan.

Look at yourself. Now strip away the flattering veneer of trick mirrors, makeup and Southern Comfort. Look again. What do you see? If the first thing you notice is that your eyes point different directions, skip to the next paragraph – likewise if you’ve ever been mistaken for a NADS hair-removal system model, pre-treatment. Ditto if you have ever eaten at a diner non-ironically. And finally, if your nickname is any of the following: Crisco, Suet-Boy or Clancy Wiggum; you probably qualify for our Diminished Expectations Plan.

The gist of this little scheme is so simple that it can be understood even by “Up With People” participants. It boils down to this: You can only ask for what you can give. This means you, you with the unsightly pectoral chub, cannot expect to date Marisa Tomei or even Fran Drescher. Girls with sideburns should stick to pursuing, say, Louie Anderson instead of David Hasselhoff. Louie Anderson is not only the president, but he is also a client of our Permanent Beer Goggles Plan.

This would prevent many tragedies from occurring. The biggest danger of mismatched lust is a broken heart – or occasionally ruptured testicles, when her violent, weightlifter boyfriend gets back from the alley, where he has been mainlining steroids.

More frequently, backs are turned, and snickers are snickered. If you wish to avoid such painful and embarrassing situations, follow our Relationship Slumming Plan.

Hang out at an upscale Shadyside bar. Then spend a night at Denny’s Bar in the heart of Souf Oaklin’. Which crowd is more your style? If you answered “Denny’s,” then we can probably be great friends. Moreover, this simple, non-invasive test can reveal your Relative Attractiveness Level (patent pending).

If you like Denny’s, and you are pursuing someone who has a “pack” of abdominal muscles in excess of one, you are barking up the wrong tree, so to speak. Speaking of barking, get used to continually saying “Well, she’s got a great personality” under our Dogs eat Dogs Plan.

So forget about exfoliation and Arbor Mist. If you can’t rock the Prada to the satisfaction of assembled females, just give up. Embrace your baldness, your suet deposits and your cut-off sweatshirts. Revel in the sweet satisfaction of knowing that you are you and someone else is out there who is also painfully average. Not everyone can be Brad Pitt or Jennifer Aniston; but by following your dreams and adhering to our Shoot Cupid Back Plan, you can at least be David Gest and Liza Minelli.

E-mail Joe and Collin your thoughts on the Codpiece Period at jrm124@pitt.edu.