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   New 
                    Rule: Stop giving me that pop-up ad for Classmates.com! There's 
                    a reason you don't talk to people for 25 years. Because you 
                    don't particularly like them! Besides, I already know what 
                    the captain of the football team is doing these days: mowing 
                    my lawn.
 New Rule: If you need to shave and you still collect baseball 
                    cards, you're gay. If you're a kid, the cards are keepsakes 
                    of your idols. If you're a grown man, they're pictures of 
                    men.
 
 New Rule: Ladies, leave your eyebrows alone. Here's how much 
                    men care about your eyebrows: do you have two of them? Okay, 
                    we're done.
 
 New Rule: There's no such thing as flavored water. There's 
                    a whole aisle of this crap at the supermarket, water, but 
                    without that watery taste. Sorry, but flavored water is called 
                    a soft drink. You want flavored water? Pour some scotch over 
                    ice and let it melt. That's your flavored water.
 
 New Rule: Stop messing with old people. Target is introducing 
                    a redesigned pill bottle that's square, with a bigger label. 
                    And the top is now the bottom. And by the time grandpa figures 
                    out how to open it, his ass will be in the morgue. Congratulations, 
                    Target, you just solved the Social Security crisis.
 
 New Rule: The more complicated the Starbucks order, the bigger 
                    the asshole. If you walk into a Starbucks and order a "decaf 
                    grande half-soy, half-low
 fat, iced vanilla, double-shot, gingerbread cappuccino, extra 
                    dry, light ice, with one Sweet-n'-Low and one NutraSweet," 
                    ooh, you're a huge asshole.
 
 New Rule: I'm not the cashier! By the time I look up from 
                    sliding my card, entering my PIN number, pressing "Enter," 
                    verifying the amount, deciding, no, I don't want cash back, 
                    and pressing "Enter" again, the kid who is supposed 
                    to be ringing me up is standing there eating my Almond Joy. 
                    Paper? plastic? I don't have time for that. I've just been 
                    called to do a cleanup on Aisle Nine!
 
 New Rule: Just because your tattoo has Chinese characters 
                    in it doesn't make you spiritual. It's right above the crack 
                    of your ass. And it translates to "beef with broccoli." 
                    The last time you did anything spiritual, you were praying 
                    to God you weren't pregnant. You're not spiritual. You're 
                    just high.
 
 New Rule: Competitive eating isn't a sport. It's one of the 
                    seven deadly sins. ESPN recently televised the US Open of 
                    Competitive Eating, because watching those athletes at the 
                    poker table was just too damned exciting. What's next, competitive 
                    farting? Oh wait. They're already doing that. It's called 
                    "The Howard Stern Show."
 
 New Rule: I don't need a bigger mega M&M. If I'm extra 
                    hungry for M&Ms, I'll go nuts and eat two.
 
 New Rule: If you're going to insist on making movies based 
                    on crappy, old television shows, then you have to give everyone 
                    in the Cineplex a remote so we can see what's playing on the 
                    other screens. Let's remember the reason something was a television 
                    show in the first place is the idea wasn't good enough to 
                    be a movie.
 
 New Rule: No more gift registries. You know, it used to be 
                    just for weddings. Now it's for babies and new homes and graduations 
                    from rehab. Picking up the stuff you want and having other 
                    people buy it for you isn't gift giving, it's the middle class 
                    version of looting.
 
 New Rule, and this one is long overdue: No more bathroom attendants. 
                    After I zip up, some guy is offering me a towel and a mint 
                    like I just had sex with George Michael. I can't even tell 
                    if he's supposed to be there, or just some freak with a fetish. 
                    I don't want to be on your web cam, dude. I just want to wash 
                    my hands.
 
 New Rule: When I ask how old your toddler is, I don't need 
                    to know in months. "27 Months." "He's two," 
                    will do just fine. He's not a cheese. And I didn't care in 
                    the first place
 
 
  
 
 
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