iLaugh.com

As we all know, we North Americans are sick. And I don't mean in that MTV skater way, as in "sick, dude," I mean literally unhealthy. We're fat. We're overcaffeinated. We're intoxicated, polluted and basically full of crap. And it's killing us.

Well, I'm here to share with you my personal philosophy of happiness. We've been programmed to seek happiness through conspicuous consumption: buy this, collect that, upgrade this — and always consume. But as Buddhism teaches us, acting on our base desires will merely leave us unsatisfied. So we seek to eliminate desire.

But I'll take it one step further. I submit to you, friends and neighbors, that true pleasure comes not from consuming things, nor merely eliminating the desire to do so, but literally eliminating various things from our bodies. To wit:

1. Vomiting. You're out drinking with "the boys":
   knocking back shots of your buddy Jack Daniels and chasing it down with
   your homeboy Malty MacLiquor. Now you're drunk, your fingertips are
   numb and you can't close your eyes without the world spinning ‘round
   like a haunted carousel. What better feeling is there than puking your
   guts out in a filthy gutter? Instant comfort and clarity — better than
   the finest eight-ball money can buy.
2. Urinating. Again, especially when you've been
   drinking, there are few things more satisfying than emptying out a
   waterlogged bladder, letting that warm jetstream of flaxen fluid
   splatter lazily against a porcelain receptacle, or if you're truly
   lucky, the torso and neck of a loved one. Bonus points if you've been
   eating asparagus all day.
3. Spitting. First thing in the morning, after those
   rascally bacteria fairies have decided to take an anaerobic dump in
   your mouth, and you go right ahead and spit it out: magic. Or say
   you're walking down the street and you hork one on the sidewalk,
   letting everyone know you're a badass who's not to be screwed with.
   Nobody gonna make you they bitch today, son. Nobody.
4. Bleeding Yourself with Leeches. Pretty self-explanatory. Let's just say, sometimes the old ways really are the best.
5. Excræting Fæces. Pinching a loaf. Pooping. Could I
   make this any clearer? Nothing in this world compares to that exquisite
   combination of pain and ecstasy that comes with forcing out a
   particularly thick, coiled spool of brownie batter. And sometimes -
   this is rare, but does happen — the process can actually scrape your
   prostate enough to give you a semi. This brings us to...
6. Expelling Seminal Fluid. I can't speak for the
   female readers out there, but let's face it: If it were humanly
   possible (and socially acceptable), I'd be busting off rounds on a
   near-constant basis. If it were up to me, my testes would be so
   magnificently empty they'd look like shriveled-up prunes right now...more
   so.
7. Having a Good Cry. I don't know who this "God" guy
   is, but whoever came up with the idea of packing all the negative
   emotions that arise from seeing your ex-girlfriend making out with your
   best buddy, distilling those feelings through a few milliliters of
   brackish water, and immediately flushing them right out your eye
   sockets — has to be some kind of genius.
8. Digging out Navel Lint. Again, self-explanatory.
9. Sneezing. Maybe we're stretching here, but that
   sweet little brain-tickle right before a colossal nasal explosion is
   actually kinda sensuous. And let's not forget good old-fashioned
   nose-blowin': After a night on the town, when your nostrils are clogged
   with charcoal-black snot from inhaling all that smoke, perfume and
   dancefloor pus, firing that crap into the bathtub is akin to getting to
   third base with a sexy club chick. To me, anyway.
10. Flushing Your Ears. One time, a
    doctor shoved what looked like a foot-long glue gun in my earhole and
    blasted it with lukewarm water. It sounded like Niagara Falls was
    rushing directly through my cranium, and when it was all over, a pool
    of yellowish muck and what looked like a cigarette butt had collected
    in the small metal grease-catcher the good doctor had balanced upon my
    shoulder. This may have been the greatest moment of my life.

There! That's ten, and I didn't even get into spinal tapping or clearing away toenail gunk with a paperclip...but stay tuned!