This is pretty much the philosophy that's kept us (barely) alive all these years, though after you turn 35 you need to add a "Just check for blood!" step to the end of the regimen. Still, we've paid hundreds of dollars to licensed physicians who've provided less insight than this.

It didn't make our thighs tingle the way the Al Green clip did (see below), but hey, the encore isn't supposed to be better than the show, people. If the White House is taking requests for his next performance, we'd like to hear an Obama-cized version of "Video Games" by Lana Del Rey, or barring that, we'd settle for anything by Skrillex.

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This proposed Gmail feature from Abstruse Goose is like a handy digital version of your best friends shaking their heads at you and saying, "Please don't." We hope Google Labs takes note of this brilliant idea, because we need someone to save us from ourselves — and at this point, we're even willing to trust the people who brought us Google+. And Google Wave. And Google Buzz.

A reader who subscribes to the LAist newsletter spotted this regrettably placed ad above a tragic top story. Since How About We is also the official dating site for Someecards, we want to reassure you that How About We dates usually involve nothing but pleasant encounters with like-minded, well-adjusted individuals, and they almost never end in a suicide pact gone sour. As long as you don't make your profile headline, "How About We...jump to our deaths off of a freeway together," you should be just fine.

Most of these signs were designed to help people — to get where they're going, to find a pet, to avoid grievous bodily harm — and yet some writing-utensil-wielding wiseasses felt compelled to come along and totally deface them. We're so glad they did. Does that mean we value a wry sense of humor or even just a lazy reference to an outdated song over the safety of our fellow human beings? We're insulted you would even ask. Of course we do.

Whoah, woah guys. Caitlyn's right. And so is Sam. Ohio can be a state and it can be in Michigan, because Ohio is a state of mind, dig? When Caitlyn's in Detroit, her soul's still hanging around Cleveland, rooting for the Indians and reading the Plain Dealer. When Caitlyn's in Ann Arbor, in her consciousness she's still back in Cincinnati, eating that chili and listening to WKRP. Geography isn't about where things are, it's about where you're at. Except in Mark's case. Mark's an idiot.

If you thought Waffle House's Whitney Houston tweet was appalling, take a look at this tasteless tribute to the most legendary frontman in the history of grunge, courtesy of the most legendary fast food chain in the history of commercials where Paris Hilton washes a car while eating a cheeseburger. Check out some of our favorite responses to this latest boneheaded corporate tweet.

These Twitter users set an excellent example for how to address the digital idiocy of your least favorite famous people.

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Ladies and gentlemen, we give you the greatest thing to happen yet during this election cycle. The existence of this poster, composed entirely of stills from hardcore gay porn, makes us not even miss a Sarah Palin candidacy. This is way better than a Mitt Romney poster composed of nothing but currency, or a Newt Gingrich poster composed of nothing but donuts and divorce papers, or even a Rick Perry poster composed of nothing but jackasses. First person to print this out and get it signed by Santorum at a rally wins everything. He'll most likely recognize most of the scenes.

We can't tell you what's going on in that brain behind Rick Santorum's "eighth-grader on Picture Day" haircut, but thanks to These Fries Are Good, we can tell you what's going on in his email inbox. Relax — it's not actually real. If we were that interested in interfering with someone's private life, we'd be Rick Santorum.

This is accurate but it skips the first step, which is a diagram of a guy searching the rest room to see if anyone else is there before he bothers to wash his hands at all. We still prefer towels to the Dyson jet engine air dryers, which tend to give us headaches when the air pressure reverses the circulation in our veins and sends the blood racing up our arms and into our skulls. Dry hands are nice, sure, but is a strong air dryer worth the danger of having your fingerprints blown off?

We'd say this comic from Cyanide and Happiness reader Jay A. describes what literally happens to us every time we endure someone's awful grammar, but the misuse of "literally" might make us start bleeding from the ears.

A nephew who either hates his uncle or his childhood (or both) filed suit after his uncle posted some photos of the nephew from when he was a kid. The court threw out the case, but this is just a small speedbump on the long road to justice against your friend who won't take down that stupid pic of you playing air guitar in a Speedo. Why should you be obliged to untag yourself? Just keep shoving these extremely important lawsuits through the court system (we're at war, btw), and one day justice will prevail and you'll be able to untag your friends from their monetary assets.