Things a Man Should Never Do
Past the Age of 30

“Pimp out” a work cubicle.

Own a strobe light.

Take the lead in a bunny hop.

Wear a belt-buckle in the shape of a state.

Program a cell phone to ring out stadium anthems.

Purchase gag condoms in bulk.

Refer to your testicles as “Chang and Eng.”

Wear flip-flops on public transportation.

Attend jam-band festivals, from beginning to end.

Grow an ironic mustache.

Practice your autograph.

Observe Cinco de Mayo.

Shout out a response to: “Are you ready to rock?!”

Purchase flavored popcorn by the tub.

Decorate a bedroom with promotional bar freebies.

Feed your dog from your mouth.

Feed your girlfriend from your mouth.

Burp out pithy sayings.

Karaoke “Kokomo.”

Use body parts as surrogate ventriloquist dummies.

Defecate in public.

Eat tuna straight from the can.

Wear the “B-Side” of your underwear.

Categorize your liquor collection on an ascending “fucked up” scale.

Use photos of former frat bros as screen savers.

Let the Rastafarian culture be the beacon by which you dictate your fashion sense.

Re-enact entire South Park episodes, in real time.

Use cologne as a room deodorizer.

Name pets after Middle Earth creatures.

Flash gang-signs while posing for wedding photos.

Impress women with the ability to fire up a “dutch oven” at will.

Breathlessly follow Top 40 radio countdowns.

Consider AC/DC’s “Big Balls” “your song.”

Make love to the accompaniment of disaster-movie soundtracks.

Collect book-length volumes of newspaper funnies.

Give “shout outs” to fellow thirty-somethings.

Celebrate special occasions at establishments featuring animatronic animals.

Bowl to the accompaniment of disco.

Perform a beer-bong alone.

Remain through the end credits for the Adam Sandler “gag reel.”

Blame your imaginary friend for all questionable odors.

Doodle heavy-metal band logos.

Devote your life to the credos spelled out in Jimmy Buffett’s “Cheeseburger in Paradise.”

Memorize wedding line-dances, “just in case.”

Use sports metaphors for sex.

Use sex metaphors for sports.

Bring your “game face” to ultimate-frisbee contests.

Compare the trajectory of your life with those of the characters in Billy Joel’s “Scenes from an Italian Restaurant.”

Color-coordinate bandanas for you and your dog.

Ride “bareback” in work slacks.

Shave superhero logos into your scalp.

Raise hermit crabs.

Hacky sack without a shirt.

Define wearing an umbrella-hat as “thinking outside the box.”

Combine bubblegum flavors.

Hug amusement park mascots.

Wear Disney-themed neckties on casual Friday.

Wake up to a “morning zoo.”

Boogie board.

Brag to co-workers about the size and circumference of your bowel movements.

Follow election results in sports bars.

Watch the “bonus features” on Vin Diesel DVDs.

Tie-dye anything.

Daydream that you’re a bad-ass cowboy.

Quip “me so hungry” at business lunches.

Display a vanity license-plate to attract more PZZY.

Skip.

Have your best buds smell your “stink finger.”

Design your ultimate graffitti tag.

Memorize WWF stats.

Request extra sprinkles.

“Air drum” to Led Zeppelin songs.

Weave and distribute friendship bracelets.

Read “Prince Valiant” for its historical value.

Choose “69” as your athletic number.

Express patriotic spirit through multi-colored boxers.

Customize bank checks with NFL emblems.

Hang from your rear-view mirror “lucky” Mardi Gras beads.

Purchase furniture adorned with alma mater mascots.

Eat Oreo cookies in stages.

Coin your own nickname.

Volunteer to be a magician’s assistant.

Create “ambience” through autographed fraternity paddles.

Phone-in long-distance love requests.

Converse with angels.