That’s right.  It spells S-C-I-E-N-T-I-S-T, baby.  Sure, you are used to me being a science guru and, on occasion, a Formula One race car driver who solves mysteries on TV, but unless you are a long-time reader you are probably not aware I am also a superhero.

I discovered I was a superhero this one time when a guy cut me off on the highway and I followed him off the exit and then we stopped at a red light and I bench-pressed his car and slept with his girlfriend. I knew then I wasn’t like other scientists … namely, because I could get a date.

Like all great superheroes, I have a secret underground lair. It’s called “The Lab.” And I have a cool costume, but I can’t show you that because you already know my secret identity.

There are critical times when some emergency calls and I must go from being mild-mannered scientist to superhero quickly. Usually the emergency involves alcohol and strippers but sometimes it involves cats being stuck in trees and stuff. Even if it’s a minor emergency like a cat I go anyway - because you just can’t take the superhero out of scientists. It would be like taking the chicken wings out of Syracuse.*

So how do I go from ordinary lab to secret underground lair “The Lab” when those emergencies occur?  Well, you’ve all seen Batman and the bat pole and the bat cave and all that stuff.  My process is remarkably similar.

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I mean really, really happy. This kind of happy:

Well, I’ll tell you. Nothing makes scientists happier than when celebrity marriages go kerplooey, accusations start flying, and families - being familial - say a bunch of things they would never, ever, ever believe if they read them on my blog.

Let’s take this whole Christie Brinkley thing that happened recently. Most of you probably don’t know anything about it because you are so highbrow - that’s why you are at my blog. For the science. And maybe a chance at an orange smoothie.

I will encapsulate for you: Christie Brinkley ( I think she was a model in the 1940s ) has a husband and he got caught canoodling with his teenage assistant so Brinkley, not content with three divorces under her Total Gym created waistline, decides to divorce him. But this is Hollywood, folks, and Brinkley is a victim. You can’t have a victim without a criminal.

Diana Bianchi very much does not want to be the criminal either so she has come out with guns blazing. Her family is helping, saying Mr. Brinkley ( i.e. Peter Cook a.k.a. nobody ) began pursuing her at age 17 and she was seduced by the guy and she was ‘naive.’

Stop right there. We live in a society where they talked about a dirty sanchez on the Veronica Mars television show during prime time … and I am so old I had to Google it to know what in hell they were talking about but the writers knew every kid watching the show would know what they were talking about and laugh. There may be naive 17-to-19 year-old girls out there, but they are living in Lancaster:

I am supposed to believe a 19-year old girl sleeping with her married boss and getting cars, money and jewelry in return is now passing herself off as “a little naive.” I know lots of naive girls then. They’re called strippers.

Some pinhead lawyer spoke to reporters and admitted the couple’s relationship was consensual but stated Cook’s role as employer and his gifts of a car, money and jewelry could constitute sexual harassment. Except she only got the job because she was sleeping with him.

Now look, I am all for penalizing someone if they try to withhold a promotion or fire a girl for not giving up the booty. That’s just fair play. But if he’s not doing that it’s just a guy trying to get laid. God knows women make it hard enough for us without getting lawyers involved.

And what’s the big deal to Christie Brinkley? So he nailed his personal assistant. That’s what personal assistants are for.

Come to think of it, I need a personal assistant. Should any of you care to apply, send your resume and a picture of you in an I HEART SCIENTISTS t-shirt and I’ll be in touch.

By “I’ll be in touch” I mean, “We’ll get drunk and have hot monkey sex.”

A Physicists Guide To Relationship Advice

I get a lot of acquaintances and friends that ask me for relationship advice. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because the line of women waiting to offer me their vaginas is so long it can be seen from space. Or maybe it’s because I am happy all of the time. If I am happy all of the time, it’s because I probably know some things they don’t know. The first thing to know in relationships is where you stand and the second thing is not to expect too much from the other person. I can’t help you with not expecting too much but I can tell you where you stand. To find that out, science comes to the rescue.

40 million people a year meet via the internet so this probably counts for that medium too, though I am betting the bad percentages are a lot higher. I met someone from the internet once and it went just about as well as it can go but your mileage may vary.

So here are the facts:

* British and Australian men drink too much. And admit it. That means they drink a lot more than they are admitting. So if you date one of them, don’t start complaining about it.

* 80% of Brazilian and Mexican men lied about their relationship status. Why would they bother? Brazilian and Mexican women assume they are lying and don’t care. Telling the truth might be a goldmine. Kind of like being a straight guy in San Francisco. Sure, women may assume you are gay at first but …

* 70% of German women lied about their relationship status. Which tells you what you need to know about German men. On the other hand, with 70% of German women you can’t tell what gender they are anyway.

* 50% of Italian and German men lied about income to attract the opposite sex. This explains why most German women continue to shop around. It doesn’t explain anything at all about Italian men that you didn’t already know. Namely, that they are hound dogs. I went to Italy with my chick and had to walk next to her with a hockey stick to get them to stop “Buongiorno”-ing her every five seconds.

* 40% of Portugese men rated intelligence over appearance. Not a single Australian respondent said that. So we know that 40% of Portugese lie and that Australian men are honest about both their drinking and that they only like you for your looks. Which is scary, if you have seen Australian women.

* 63% of men and women in the USA specified humor as the most important factor in their attraction to the opposite sex. Which tells you that this survey is full of crap. 73% of Canadians said the same thing, so at least Americans aren’t as full of crap as Canadians.

Finally, I will throw in some personal insight on navigating relationships. Here is a paraphrased transcript from a conversation I had a few weeks ago so you know what not to do:

ME: If I don’t go to Detroit, can you help me throw a Super Bowl party even though my team just crushed yours? I’ll buy you stuff.
SHE: I want cash.
ME: Sweet. Can I bring it all in ones? I set up a stripper pole in the 3rd car garage.
SHE: Now I want more cash.
ME: Hmmm. That plan backfired.
SHE: But I will let you watch the game. Provided you keep it muted. And I am in Asia on business.
ME: You’re trying to make me screw a whore in Windsor, Canada on Super Bowl Sunday, aren’t you?

You can bet that list bit of well-intentioned humor came with a price tag. Luckily, Playboy is doing its part to help me find a replacement girl on the internet, if needed. They can help you too. Once you find her, all you have to do is tell her she has a sense of humor - 63% of the time. And teeth like Bugs Bunny. At least that worked for me and Kate Beckinsale.

Download the full Harlequin Romance Report 2006 here.

Well, who isn’t? Except replace ’strippers’ with supermodels and ‘absinthe’ with Cheez-Doodles. There’s nothing like canoodling with supermodels while enjoying a bag of Cheez-Doodles.

But unlike Tommy, I don’t go for “La Fée Verte” - that’s the French term for Absinthe but, being French people and therefore 80% gay, the literal translation is “the green fairy.” Instead, when I want to engage in fantasy-like hallucinations, I simply consult this picture of Jessica Alba.

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