I'm Too Sexy For My Brain

(We do the usual opening, then cut to Nash in his room)

Nash: Hey kids. I'm Nash, and I couldn't make this shit up if I tried. You know, we got a lot of sayings in regards to beauty. How "true beauty comes from within," or, "beauty is in the eye of the beholders," or, "every ugly duckling can become a swan." And no sooner do we impart those words of wisdom then, we're off to baste under radiation lamps or inject botulism poison into our wrinkles, or hook ourselves up to giant fat vacuums. Nothing else in the human condition will send us running into neurotic circles faster than the idea that we're not the fairest one of all, and we have a long and colorful history of doing ri-fucking-diculous shit in the name of bringing sexy back. Here, let me elaborate.

(We come to our cartoon, "A Brief History of Beauty")

Nash (vo): The human pursuit of beauty can be traced back to biology. In the earliest days of humanity, (Stick Boy and Stick Girl appear) it was a survival of the fittest type deal. We were wired to seek out the mates who would offer the best offspring. That meant the hardier speciments (A muscular Stick Man appears) were more likely to attract a mate and the less robust specimens were likely to attract a case of blueballs. (Stick Girl jumps on Stick Man and a CENSORED bar covers them, leaving Stick Boy mad) But the weird thing about people is, it's not all just biology. Here's a great example. The conception of attractiveness shifted with the rise of romantic love. (Stick Boy's dressed as a barbarian trying to court Stick Girl) Suddenly the rough and boorish aspects of attraction were supplanted by gentility and chivalry as the new ideal. (Another Stick Boy appears, this one with a moustache and a lute) Add the concept of fashion into the mix and we're back to the blueballs. (Stick Girl has hearts on her eyes and jumps on the other Stick Boy, a CENSORED bar covering them up, leaving Stick Boy mad again) Now it wasn't just women's per--(Stick Boy is glaring at him) wait, what do you want? (Stick Boy pulls out a sign saying "STOP FUCKING COCKBLOCKING ME, ASSHOLE!") Oh would you piss off, I need to move onto the next frame. As I was saying, it wasn't just women's perceptions that shifted. (Paintings of curvier women are shown) Look up "Rubenesque" sometime. Women who looked like this (one painting is shown of another woman, a censor bar saying "No Way, Jose" on her breasts) fit the ideal of beauty. Mainly because they gave the impression they were well off and healthy. Women who looked like this (showing pictures of various supermodels who are rail thin) on the other hand gave the idea they were likely to die of consumption. Nowadays, this kind of look says to the world, "yes, I can afford heroin on a regular basis." (Stick Boy's now trying again with Stick Girl, wearing glasses and holding a book) So where the once romantic, intellectual approach full of artistic ideals and poetic notions was once prized, (Stick Man appears again wearing a tank top and with a pompadour, angering Stick Boy again) it now seems that in the age of Top Model and Jersey Shore, our conception of beauty is based on who will go to the most ridiculous, overpriced and outlandish lengths to fit the ideal (Stick Girl jumps on Stick Man, a CENSORED bar covering them up again). You don't got the cash, style, or the willingness to go through those extremes, blueballs. (Stick Boy takes out a sign saying "I WILL FUCKING END YOU") Oh freaking bite me, Stick Boy!

Nash: So that's what it comes down to. People wanna fit in to the current conception of beauty, then whatever is required to reach that ideal seems perfectly reasonable. So, with that in mind, who wants to smear bird shit all over their face?

(The report is titled "Try a placenta or bird poop facial")

Nash (vo): Oh how I wish I was kidding. People are so desperate to reverse the wrinklage will spend up to $200, among other things, the poop of a nightingale and Russian baby placenta.

Nash: Let's...let's take a second here. People are willing to spend $200 to put bird crap on their face in the vain hope that it'll get rid of wrinkles. And I say vain hope because there's no scientific proof that magic super bird crap facials will do anything. Except give people an excuse to point and laugh at you for putting bird crap in your face. For fuck's sake, $200 is a lot of money. It's like saying, "hey ladies, (a picture of a car covered in bird poo is shown) I'll let you rub your face on this thing for fifty bucks. It'll make you pretty!" I suppose it could be worse. It's not like people are smearing bull semen in their hair--

(Too late! The report is titled "Bull Semen: The Latest Hair Miracle")

Nash (vo): --Oh come on! Seriously, people? Fucking seriously? Ah, Christ. It seems that Hari's of London has started using bull sperm as a hair conditioner. And no, this isn't mixed up in some conditioning compound, this is...(a picture of a brush is shown) oh, nasty!

Nash: Ugh, as I was saying, apparently they don't mix it with anything else, the bull semen is just applied directly. I guess if happy cows come from California, happy bulls cum in your hair. The fuck is wrong with you people!? It's bull spooge! Bull spooge does not go in your hair! And I can't stress this enough. There is no scientific basis for any of this. Any and all proof th putting bull semen in your hair does any good of any kind is completely anecdotal. Wait, that being the case, how did somebody even think to try this in the first place? How did they get bull semen in their...(he thinks about it, then reels in disgust) eeewwwww! Fucking hell, I need a shower!

(Just as he said that, a bit from Allure magazine is showing instructions on how to take a shower)

Nash (vo): What? Are those...are those instructions on how to take a shower? Really? Apparently, the magazine Allure thought you ladies were too stupid to master the art of cleaning yourself properly, so they decided to help you out.

Nash: Wow. A magazine written for women, by women, has decided women are functionally retarded. If you don't know how to operate a shower, you've either taken a lawn dart to the head, or you're a gamer. And I don't want one angry e-mail from gamers, and here's why. Two words: con funk! Look, back to the article. You know the main reason women try shit like bird poop and bull semen? It's the fucking beauty magazines. They'll peddle any insane idea because they got pages to fill and they know their readers will buy it. Even more, they know their readers will try it. I'm pretty sure they sit around all day before an issue ships thinking of horrible things for you to do in the name of being pretty. "Hey guys, I've got a great idea. Shave your eyebrows, shave off ten years. Bets on how many readers try it." But at least people aren't doing anything potentially lethal in the name of--

(Sorry Nash! The report is titled "Shear Madness: Is your straight hair making you sick?")

Nash (vo): Oh you have got to be shitting me! A popular hair straightening treatment from Brazil featured, as a main ingredient, formaldehyde. Otherwise known as the crap you use to keep the dead from rotting.

Nash: For those of you who are unaware, formaldehyde, when inhaled, is a known carcinogen. Yes kids, that lovely, luscious hair comes with a free lung tumor of your very own! What the fuck!? Who came up with this? Who the hell thought, (using a redneck voice) "well, that formaldehyde stuff sure works on the dead folks, must be fine for them living types?" I mean Jesus! When your products are ranking behind China in terms of quality control, it's time to rethink the goddamn business model! But at least people stopped doing it once they knew it was --

(Just to prove him wrong, a report comes up)

Nash (vo): Oh for fuck's sake! Apparently after the ingredients were known, the treatments became even more popular (a passage is highlighted saying "Surprisingly, after that article hit newsstands, the treatment's popularity rapidly increased--underlining just how far women will go for beauty."), with one salon manager quoted as saying, "New York is so polluted anyway, what's a little formaldehyde if it makes your hair beautiful and shiny?"

Nash: Please excuse me for a moment.

(He gets up from his chair, bangs his head on a wall, punches himself a couple times, then sits in the bathtub with the shower pouring on his head while he makes train noises. He comes back to his room and sits down)

Nash: Sorry about that. Let's see here, where were we? Oh yeah. What the fuck is wrong with you!? Do you know what a little formaldehyde is? Poison! And not just for you, for the clients, for the person putting your hair, and for everyone else in the same freaking salon where the freaking gaseous formaldehyde is being inhaled! But you know what they say, "live young, die stupid, but leave a good looking corpse." Oh well, I mean I can almost understand. People smoke after all. It's not like someone almost lost their limbs for the sake of--

(Nnnnnnope! The report is titled "Lady Gaga Almost Suffers Deep Vein Thrombosis on Transatlantic Flight

Nash (vo): Oh, fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you!! Christ in a sidecar! Yes, Lady Gaga was on a transatlantic flight wearing a police tape ensemble tied on so tightly, it almost caused deep vein thrombosis in her legs. Apparently the damn thing was so complex, she needed assistance to get out of it.

Nash: You know, almost in spite of myself, I like Lady Gaga's music. I get the whole retro Bowie neo-glam angle she's rocking. I do, it's cool. So it's with the deepest respect and utter perplexity that I have to say this the following. The fuck is wrong with you, lady? It's a transatlantic flight! It's hours and hours and hours of doing fuck all! There's not going to be a spontaneous eruption of paparazzi! You're not gonna get into a dogfight with TMZ over the Mid-Atlantic! It's a long, boring trip. It won't kill you to throw on some jeans and break out a paperback. It will kill you to get gangrene in your damn legs! Do you see what I'm getting at, dear? (A quick burst of the video for "Telepohone") Was, uh...was that a yes? Was it always like this? Were people always this fucking insane regarding looking good? You know what? Let's have a look. (he picks up his smartphone) Let's see here. Youtube...50s...beauty, uh huh. Ah, okay. We've got an instructional film on beauty from the last century. Let's check it out.

(We come to a 50s video called "Beauty and the Modern Woman." Clips from that era play as a narrator speaks)

Narrator: It's a busy day for the modern man. Yes, work, work, and more work makes the world go round. The American male makes over 150 hours a day. Take that, Comrades! So it's only fair for ladies to do their part to keep their industrious men happy. We don't just mean the insignificant things like cooking, cleaning, laundry and child rearing. Goodness, no. Why, what kind of woman would you be if you couldn't do those? No no, we're talking about the most important thing in the world: being pretty.

(We're introduced to our test model)

Narrator: This here is Sally. Say hi, Sally. (Sally waves) Sally's the average American homemaker, and she wants to do everything she can to help keep this country great. Don't you, Sally? (Sally nods) As you fellas can see, Sally's a pretty lady. Too bad she's got those horrible wrinkles, lines, blemishes and obvious signs of aging. Buck up, Sally, there's hope for you yet. By using some easy to follow beauty tips, you can be the envy of your next tupperware party. You'd like that, wouldn't you, Sally? Well then, let's get started.

(We cut to the next bit of this scene)

Narrator: Nothing vanishes those wrinkles like a good facial. (Sally is showing a bottle of cream) Here, Sally's using the latest in space age technology. (She takes a bit and starts rubbing it into her face) Artificial polymers, special chemicals, American-made plutonium, and some of mom's good old yellow dy number 5. Gosh Sally, you look good enough to eat. (Sally waves her hand to say "oh stop!")

(Next cut has Sally with curlers in her hair, putting another one on)

Narrator: Curlers can give your hair that bounce your man will flip for. After all, nothing says "attractive" like styling your hair in a way that denotes your childlike nature and need to be cared for in all things. (Sally gives a thumbs up)

(Another cut)

Narrator: In the old days, women used blush to add that rosy glow to their cheeks. But this is the modern world, you can get that same flow with just a few thousand volts of electricity (Sally takes out a plug on a cord, quite reluctant about this) supplied from your own home outlet. Go ahead, dear. (Sally bites into the cord and gets electrocuted) Ha ha, that'll wake you up in the morning.

(Next cut has Sally with a book which has a green glow coming from it)

Narrator: You should always listen to the advice of your elders. (Carmina Burana plays) And who's more elder than the Great Old Ones? Just give them a chant, a sacrifice, and they'll fix up those bags under your eyes in no time.

(Another cut)

Narrator: Scientists have found the best way to liven up the blood and bring vitality to the skin is massive amounts of adrenaline, and we all know the best way to introduce adrenaline is by taunting rabid wildlife. (Sally's got an "excuse me?" look on her face) Hey now, would science lie? (Sally shrugs, then pokes at something off screen, making her scream and run off) Ha ha, go Sally go. (the creature is some form of rabbit with a horn on its back)

(Next cut, Sally is mad and has a knife in her hand)

Narrator: When trying to get your man...(he notices the knife) Hey there, Sally, what's with the knife? Wait, wait, let's talk about this, Sally. Are you on your time of the month or something? Why don't you--ow, oh, Jesus it hurts! Stupid, crazy dame! You stab like a girl! Ah, gah, ow! What is with you!? It's not like we're paying you or anything--shit, my balls! My wonderful balls!

(The End)

Nash: The more things change, huh? Well, this is Nash saying if I have to hurt, so does--(Stick Boy comes up) Wait, what do you want?

(Stick Boy smacks him hard in the chest with a hammer as we come to the credits, played by Right Said Fred's "I'm Too Sexy")

Final quip: What, you've never sat in your shower and made train noises? Don't judge me, man!

(One last clip of Nash making train noises in the shower)