Learn the stars. Everyone around here knows them by their first names.
Drink gin mixed with tears from the visitation room of a state penitentiary.
Who doesn’t enjoy the suffering of the despicable?
Tell jokes in which cats come to a violent end.
Communicate solely through IM and extemporized qasidas.
Wear clothes.
Start an office betting pool for the Van Cliburn International Piano Competition.
Stockpile dill pickles, ammunition and expurgated bibles.
Paint by the numbers.
When stopping to see a young lady who is not at home, the gentleman caller should leave a handsomely printed card.
Do things in groups that you would never do by yourself, e.g. burning a cross or playing Parcheesi.
Avoid unprocessed foods.
Have a conversion experience, but don’t let it stop you from being the same old asshole.
Read bestselling books, such as Business Secrets of the Zombies and The Joy Luck Sisterhood of the Traveling Hunger Games.
Two words: hand jive.
Two more words: accordion dirge.
When you meet the Buddha, capture the moment on your cellphone.