If someone had asked me not long ago...
why I thought it was that men left women and never came back,
I would have said this:
"New cow. "
The new cow theory was born of a broken heart.
It came to me while reading an article on male behavior...
in the New York Times science section,
which chronicled a particularly fascinating study...
on the mating preferences of the male cow.
- First, a bull was presented with...
A cow.
They mated.
The next day, the bull was presented with the same cow.
The bull wasn't interested.
He wanted new cow,
and this was old cow.
Curious to see if they could trick the bull,
the scientists came up with an ingenious ploy.
- Do not disappoint Daddy. - The old cow was smeared with new cow scent...
- Doesn't that feel good? - But he was no fool.
This wasn't new cow.
This was just old cow incognito.
Old cow in sheep's clothing.
- Mutton dressed as lamb.
But I'm getting ahead of myself.
To really understand the theory and how it took over my entire existence,
you need to hear the whole story.
When Ray came into my life,
I was booking talent for the Diane Roberts Show,
a local New York talk show that had just been syndicated nationally.
The network had given us a small window of opportunity...
in which to make something of ourselves.
We're back with Mary Lou Corkle,
outspoken conservative activist,
who's here to talk about her new book The Nest Crisis.
One of your central arguments, Mary Lou,
is to blame society's problems on working mothers.
Diane was determined to strike pay dirt with her audience...
by appealing to both their understimulated intelligence...
and their overstimulated appetite for tabloid television.
Ambition has blinded these women...
- to their responsibilities to their families. - And so, by your standards,
doing what I do makes me unfit for motherhood.
Well, we make our own beds, don't we?
That is true. Just out of curiosity, Mary Lou,
who's been making your kids' beds...
while you've been out selling your book these past three months?
My job was to supply a steady diet of raw meat...
to satisfy Diane's Emmy-clad ambitions.
Hi, Donald. Did you hear? We've gone national.
Thanks. Well, it's a new format.
We're just starting up major exposure,
and I think it's right up Hillary's alley.
Oh, she'd be among the first. I'm lining up great company. Trust me, everyone wants on.
My only colleague in this quest...
was our writer, producer and pathological womanizer Eddie Alden.
How are we doin'?
Publisher's having a coronary.
- That good, huh? - You book 'em, I cook 'em.
Right on. Yeah.
Thank you very much. We are here talking to Mary Lou Corkle.
Any progress with Cuba?
Well, just keep trying. I swear to God.
This Castro thing is gonna kill me. I mean, it is insane.
- She will not let it go. - Forget Castro. Come on.
- I mean, what you want is a more creative angle. - Such as?
- Elena Villagolla. - Who?
One of the women the C.I.A. Hired to try and kill him back in the sixties.
Excuse me. I believe this is a smoke-free building.
Blow me. Apparently, the C.I.A. Cooked up this death oil that could pass as perfume.
The idea was she'd rub it on, Castro would be kissin' her and lickin' her...
- Don't editorialize. - Sorry. He was supposed to croak right after.
Eddie could find the sex factor in just about any subject.
He, of course, considered this a gift.
- Nina, you left these earrings in my bathroom. - You don't waste any time.
- Cynic. - Slut.
But if Eddie was enough to make me lose hope in all men,
it only took one to bring it back again.
- Hey, Rick. - How you doin', Eddie?
You are the only one I haven't met yet. I'm Ray Brown.
- This is our new executive producer. - Oh, from Washington.
I saw that piece you produced for Newsline. That was brilliant.
Wow. Thank you very much.
We just did a follow-up piece. That's why I'm a little late getting up here.
- Oh. - Well, I better scoot.
Jane, you want me to get 'em to turn the A.C. Up? You're looking a little flushed.
Okay.
- Jane Goodale. - I know. That's an interesting name.
- People must confuse you with the scientist. - Yeah.
- They're always asking me if I'm into chimps. - Are you?
Not really. I mean, maybe Curious George when I was five.
Ah. Curious George was a monkey, not a chimp.
- A man who knows his primates. - Yes, I do.
See you around. Oh, I heard Len Chaney's people are giving you a hard time.
Yeah, they're afraid it's gonna turn into an abortion debate and get ugly.
Which is, uh, right.
- Of course. - So guarantee Diane won't bring it up,
and we'll plant somebody in the audience to initiate it during Q&A.
I think you came to the right show, Ray Brown.
So he'scute. - Very.
Mm-hmm. Care to elaborate?
Pale blue eyes, athletic, sort of, um, J. Crew, but not as preppy.
- Oh, that guy again. - Are you going to buy anything or not?
- Sh-Shush! I'm concentrating! - Okay.
- Marital status? - Girlfriend.
Why are we having this conversation?
You know what? You're right. He's too much work.
And even if I were up to it, with my luck,
he'd probably end up marrying her anyway.
Wow. There's the cynical bitch I know and love.
So that's it. Case closed. Leaving this one alone.
You feeling carnivorous?
Absolutely.
So what else do I need to know about you,
apart from your addiction to processed foods,
much to the chagrin of your girlfriend?
"D."
- Whom you've been dating now for... - Three years.
Three...
Excuse me. Three years. Wow. That's, um...
Huh. More serious than I...
would've guessed, you know, off the cuff.
I guess it is.
You think you ever get to the moment where you just know it's the right one?
That's it.
That's the person you're meant to be with forever.
Probably.
God, he was cute.
- It's me! - We're in here.
What's the problem? Just jab it in.
- Don't rush me. - What is going on?
Dr. Lipshick started your sister on injections.
- Of orange juice? - Fertility drugs, Jane.
The orange is for practice.
For God's sake, Stephen, if you can't stick it into a Valencia,
- How are you gonna stick it in my ass? - I'm just a little nervous.
If this isn't done right, we could lose another whole month.
Oh!
That was supposed to be my job.
I just wanted to show you how easy it is.
You know, this is a very emotional time for us,
and you're sucking the romance out of the entire situation.
Oh, come on, sweetheart. I think we've pretty much kissed romance good-bye...
when you started jacking off into a cup once a week.
Leave my sperm count out of it!
Chubby Hubby?
Come on, sweetie. I'll look at the dirty magazines with you this time.
I don't think you should... Enough about it!
That's great. Just great.
Very nice, Nina. Very grown up.
At least one of us is.
Good morning.
Don't bother, Eddie. I already know you're an asshole.
Hey, you're always complaining your apartment's too small.
Why don't you move in with me?
- You cannot be serious. - Why not?
Come on. All I'm meeting are hip, successful types.
- I'd much rather have someone like you. - Gee, thanks.
No, hey. This would be a strictly financial arrangement.
I've got no interest in you that way whatsoever.
- What a relief. - Come on. Is that a no?
Actually, it's a "Thanks, but not if my life depended on it. "
- Hello. - You up for a walk?
- What? - What?
I was just gonna...
I can't speak. You say something.
No, no, no, don't. Do you think I'm insane?
Not at all.
I was just thinking how good my apartment looks with you in it.
Let's start again. You were eating Cocoa Puffs.
- Right. - Then a couple cartoons.
- A Tweety Bird and a Road Runner, I think. - Then some more kissing.
- Right. - Okay, go on.
We had to get ready for work, so I walk into the door, and he gave me a...
- Morning, Jane. - Morning, Les. How are ya?
- Big finale-type kiss before leaving? - Exactly.
That's good, good, good. Very good, considering.
- Considering what? - Considering he's already picked out his wife.
I told you, Liz, they're having problems.
- They're not engaged. - Yet.
Nevertheless, he does sound like an interesting prospect, so here's what you do.
Pretend she doesn't exist. Never mention her name.
If he mentions her, you just nod politely, change the subject.
- Why? - Because if you bring her up,
he's gonna feel pushed and resentful.
This way, it's like, "I'm healthy, I'm happy.
No pressure. Getting sex other places. "
- It's gonna drive him nuts. - Lizzy, where do you get this stuff?
Snagmen. Com. It's very informative.
- Odd. - Read the papers, Jane.
23-year-old women are lying about their age,
so excuse me, Miss "I have a crush, so I'm currently in denial. "
You gotta get on your game.
You know what I really need to know? What do I do right now...
when I see him in my staff meeting in five minutes?
That's easy. Pretend he doesn't exist.
Well, good morning, Eddie.
- What is on your neck? - I bit myself shaving.
Isn't that why God invented turtlenecks?
- No. That's why God invented Darlene. - You are so gross.
- Hey, Eddie. Hi, Jane. - Hey, Ray.
Hey, Ray. Mornin'.
You okay? You look a little tired.
Morning, Diane.
Straw. Mmm.
- Okay. I'm late, I know. I'm sorry. - Morning.
I locked myself out of the apartment. Keys, wallet, total nightmare.
The only reason I'm standing here right now...
is because of Habib, the nicest cab driver in the city of New York.
Okay, now, who saw ABC's 4 a. m. Newscast?
I think a lot of us missed that, Diane.
There's a big story on how single media outlets aren't cutting it anymore.
Ray, where are we on interactive?
- The web site should be up and running on Monday. - No, not should be.
Will be! We cannot sell this show...
on the pissant advertising budget they've given us.
We need to be streaming 24-7,
and we need to make every show count.
- Remember, it is all about the get. - The get.
We cannot make a splash if we only get...
the gets that everybody's already gotten.
- I need the ungettable get, got it? - Got it.
Good.
Okay, where are we on Fidel?
Uh, well, I spoke with Juanita,
his, um, foreign press secretary,
who assured me that the moment...
el presidente was back from his fantasy baseball camp...
she would approach him about it.
And what did she say? He might be interested?
Did she discuss his availability?
Tell me, do you think we have a shot here?
- Jane? - Sorry.
I said what do you think your chances are of getting this guy?
I think they're good, Diane.
I think they're very good.
Uh, j-just a minute.
Sorry.
I thought I'd just, um, do a few sit-ups.
Joy: The emotion evoked by the prospect of possessing what one desires.
Rapture: The experience of being carried away...
by an overwhelming emotion or passion.
Ecstasy: A state of being beyond reason and self-control.
I cannot feel my legs.
- Tell me again what we're doing here, please. - We're coming up for air.
- Oh, right. - Besides, I owe you a shirt.
Hey, that's a good idea.
- Blue? - Yeah.
This one's pretty.
- You think? - With your eyes.
Could be risky, given your impatience with buttons.
Well...
- I love it. We'll take this one. - My treat.
- No, no, no. No, Jane. - Shut up.
- Let me buy you a shirt. - Thank you.
- Hey, guys. - Eddie, hey!
Wow. We were... I mean, I just, uh...
- She's helping me pick out a shirt. - Yeah.
- Well, I didn't mean to intrude. - Not at all. You're not.
- Not at all. Please! - No.
Listen, I gotta go to a thing.
- I gotta hit this... Great running into you. - Okay.
- Both of you. My God! I can't even... - See you around.
- All right. - Okay. - Yeah.
What a coincidence. First I run into Ray, and then we run into you.
I didn't even know he lived around here, and then, boom!
All of a sudden, there he is. Um, so, uh...
Wha... Okay, so I am sleeping with him.
Eddie, if you tell anyone at the office, so help me, God...
What are you thinking?
I'm... I'm thinking the same thing you are, Jane,
that you and Ray are gonna live happily ever after...
with matching Volvos and chocolate labs.
See you Monday.
Did you have any friends growing up?
Better hurry. I think he's waiting down the street.
I love you, Jane.
I love you too.
He just came right out and said it, after only six weeks.
Oh, my God. Takes most guys like a year to use the "L" word.
When they finally do, they're usually, you know,
on top of you, so it doesn't really count.
- What about the "D" woman? - He's telling her tomorrow night.
- Why didn't he tell her already? - He's in a complicated situation.
Anyhow, if he were having second thoughts,
I hardly think he would've asked me to live with him.
He asked you to live with him? Oh, my God.
- What did you say? - I must've said yes or something to that effect...
because he started calling realtors, and I gave my landlord notice.
Ohh! Mazel tov!
Oh, I can't believe this!
You're getting asked to play house by some guy,
and I'm still on the blind date circuit from hell.
I take it last night did not go very well.
Awful. Do me a favor. Next time Julian offers to set me up...
with one of his straight friends, shoot me before I say yes.
I'm in a sad state.
And I'm telling you, it's just screaming potential.
H- Hello?
- I didn't mean to intrude. - No, we're fine.
Didn't you want to seethe patio? Come on out.
Isn't it just wonderful? Wait'll you see the view.
It's just spectacular. Right this way.
Right down to the World Trade Center.
It's such a jewel box.
I guess I'll leave you two alone to talk things over.
- Oh, my God. It's unbelievable. - I love it! I love it!
It's amazing. The light is so good! I love you.
I don't know.
Liz, I gotta go.
Oh, my God. He looks like he's been hit by a bus.
I'll call you back.
I feel like I've been hit by a bus.
You told her?
Was it bad?
Not like I thought.
I mean, she, uh... She didn't go hysterical or anything like that.
She just, uh, was kinda,
you know, eerily calm about the whole thing.
- Well, that's good, right? - Yeah, yeah.
I just meant, you know,
it wasn't what I expected is all, you know?
- What'd she say about us? - She just, she just...
I - I didn't tell her. Jane, I just didn't think it was necessary.
I mean, to hit her over the head with this thing...
after three years, it just seemed so, so awful.
I just told her that it was over.
You know? And I think that's all she needs to know.
- Right? - S-Sure.
- And she was okay with that? - Yeah. I mean, I guess.
I don't know. It was so... It was just weird.
I mean, she just kinda... Whoooh.
You know, she just kinda went cold on me.
I mean, sh-sh-she's upset.
She's upset, the poor thing.
She's gotta be upset. She's... You know.
She just didn't seem terribly upset, so...
- Well, you're okay with it, right? - Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.
- I mean, you're happy. - Happy?
I am so happy. I mean, this is what I wanted.
I mean, there's nothing between us anymore, you know,
and that's... that's what I was looking for, so I'm happy.
How exactly did Ray disappear?
Slowly and kind of subtly.
Single pane, double pane?
Single pane, I believe. - Singles.
A lot more sun, I guess, than I had recalled.
This doesn't open? Oh! Well, gotta force it. Oops.
Well, maybe it wasn't so subtle.
Hi, babe.
It's me again. Listen, the realtor called,
and she said that we have to sign the lease by Monday.
I know you wanted your lawyer to have a look at the contract and everything,
but my apartment's been re-rented, and I have got to be out of here...
He is not sleeping with somebody else. What are you talking about?
First of all, Ray really isn't like that.
And second of all, the poor guy wouldn't have time.
He's been working until 3:00 in the morning every night for 2 weeks.
Okay, A: There's no such thing as a guy who doesn't have time to mess around.
They always have time for that. And If he ain't sleeping with you,
he ain't sleepin' alone.
Right?
Listen, you gotta talk to him. It's better than not knowing.
Sorry. This patch is worth shit.
Throughout the animal kingdom, prey species have developed...
a wide variety of escape behaviors.
Freezing is a common response to predator alarm.
Sensing danger, many animals will assume a rigid, statue-like position.
Fleeing is another popular method.
Some species will simply try to outrun their captors,
while others take an erratic zigzag course...
in the hopes that sudden direction shifts will eventually tire the predator,
causing her to give up the chase.
Smell the bacon, Jane?
I'm wondering what's happening here. I mean,
we haven't been alone together in a week.
We lost that great apartment...
because your lawyer supposedly didn't get his act together,
which is okay, I understand.
But as of Saturday, I don't have a place to live.
Ray, what the hell's going on?
I don't think I can do this.
Do what?
This. Us.
What?
Why?
- I don't know. - What do you mean, you don't know?
There has to be a reason. Just tell me what it is.
Jane, I'm sorry. L-I... You deserve an answer,
and I don't think I can explain it to you.
I thought we... felt the same way:
Incredibly lucky to have...
- found th-the thing. - I do.
And here you go. - I did.
I...
I just think that we both need to take a step back.
I mean we're talking about a very serious move here.
L- I just wanted... I still...
I don't even know what I'm trying to say.
I feel like... such a jerk,
you know, believing that this was, uh...
Listen to me. I love you.
I... want us to be important to each other.
Please don't do that.
Please go.
There are few things sadder in this life...
than watching someone walk away after they've left you,
watching the distance between your bodies expand...
until there's nothing but empty space...
and silence.
Remember,
time wounds all heels.
Eddie Alden. Yeah, sure. Hold on.
Hi.
Are you all right?
Why? Don't I look all right?
- You look like you hate my guts. - I do hate your guts.
That's nice.
I don't blame you, you know.
For what it's worth, this hasn't been easy for me either.
Oh, yeah, you look really... destroyed.
- Hey. - Hey, Eddie.
Eddie, did you by any chance ever find a roommate?
Well, no, actually.
Because the place I was supposed to move into just suddenly fell apart...
and my apartment's been re-rented...
and I was wondering if the offer's still good.
- Y-You're moving in with Eddie? - Maybe.
- What's the apartment like? - Uh...
Just a two-bedroom loft, big kitchen, lots of windows, living room.
Sounds amazing. When can I see it?
- You're moving in with Eddie. - How about tonight?
Perfect. Everything is just perfect.
Hey.
- You okay? - Yeah.
- Here it is. - It's huge.
Yup. Kitchen, living room, whatever.
Uh, my bedroom, bathroom.
This would be your room.
What happened here?
Yeah, I got the urge to renovate one night, but don't worry.
I'd have it fixed by the time you moved in.
- You want a drink? - Sure. Some water.
We don't have to share a bathroom, do we?
Oh, no, I never, ever use the bathroom.
So how'd you find this place?
My ex-girlfriend worked in an emergency room.
Whenever someone croaked, she'd check out their address, see if it was rent control.
Eventually, we got lucky.
You lived with somebody?
- Yeah. - For how long?
For... a while.
- So what do you think? - I think I must be out of my mind.
- Hey! - Thank you!
Shit.
Morphine for the pain.
Hey.
It was right after she moved out.
I just took an ax and started hacking away at it.
So I thought opening up that wall...
might make it easier to breathe or something.
I don't smoke.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
You okay?
Oh, yeah.
What was her name?
Rebecca.
Put your shoes on. We're going downstairs.
- What's downstairs? - You'll see.
It's like there are two realities.
First, we're in love, and it's incredible, it's perfect.
And then poof! "Sorry, Jane.
Doesn't work for me anymore. "
- How is that possible? - Easy. You were living in a fantasy.
Romance, true love, soul mates,
it's all bullshit.
None of it exists.
Trust me. I speak from experience.
Man, she really did a number on you, didn't she?
Well, don't shit on my broken heart...
just because you converted to some warped brand of romantic atheism.
Oh, man! Whoo!
It's called self-preservation.
Oh, in other words, you narcotize yourself with casual sex.
No, no, no. See, that implies I'm avoiding reality...
when, in fact, I embrace it.
Don't underestimate casual sex, Jane.
- It's very liberating. - I'll bet.
I almost feel sorry for her.
What for?
I make no pretenses, okay?
Now, if she wants to put me up on a white horse,
that's her choice.
We're all grownups here, Jane.
I lay awake that night wondering which was worse:
Guys like Ray who blinded you with charms and promises,
or the Eddies of the world who went right for your pants.
Oh. Excuse me.
And in the end, it didn't matter.
The truth was, they were all cast from the same mold.
- But the question remained. -
Why?
And then one day by the river,
I found my answer.
Holy shit!
I told them dumb asses it'd never work.
You can't fool a bull, mister. No, sir.
He knows where he's been, and he ain't goin' back.
Hell, I got... I got 93 cows.
Only one of 'em got nads.
Why? 'Cause that one son of a bitch alone can knock up an entire herd.
But once he's done, well, the party's over.
I gotta go over to Ed Hickey's place down the road...
and trade him for a new one...
'cause there ain't a chance in hell...
he's ever gonna touch any of them cows again, no, sir.
- I figured it out. I'm the old cow. - I don't get it.
Remember a couple weeks ago when we were laughing at that graffiti on the subway?
- " Baby, I love the toilet you sit on"? - No.
"I'm tired of banging the same woman every night. "
We thought there might actually be something to that,
- like it could be a window into their dark... - Schizophrenic behavior.
Well, it is. The new cow theory...
and "I'm tired of banging the same woman every night,"
same thing.
This is why men can't commit.
Sooner or later, we all become old cows.
We're identified as already serviced,
so they wanna move on and find less familiar females.
- The whole novelty thing, you mean. - Neophilia, to be precise.
- What do you think? - What do I think? I think...
it's always about you, that's what I think.
You fall for some guy, and it's like men are worthy of heroic worship.
You get dumped and suddenly they're shit-sucking, commitment-phobic assholes.
I'm sorry, Jane. The entire universe does not revolve around...
your romantic status.
You're in love.
I'm almost in love.
Oh, honey, why didn't you tell me?
You're having a spectacular mope. I didn't wanna ruin it.
- Oh, my God! - We met at a work party a couple of weeks ago and...
Just incredible. I mean, he's so...
And I'm so...
Although I appreciated Liz's intoxication...
over her seeming good fortune,
I refused to be derailed.
Now armed with my new cow theory,
I became voracious for information.
What are you doing?
Nothin'.
- Hey! Eddie! - Whoa! What's this?
"Amygdala, AKA erotic nose brain.
- Give it back! - "An organ located in the nasal cavity,
"which connects smells to memories.
"Banana slugs, actually hermaphrodites...
While mating, the males chew each other's penises off. "
I worry about you, Jane. I really do.
Despite my conviction,
there was the occasional setback.
I want my erotic nose brain removed.
I beg your pardon?
My amygdala, the organ deep inside the nasal cavity,
which processes scent, which then connects to memory.
I'd like it extracted.
But why would you want to voluntarily make yourself anosmatic?
Well, let me see if I can explain this.
Um, I had this boyfriend, okay?
And he smelled really, really good, like soap...
and fresh laundry and vanilla.
And every time I smell any of those smells,
I'm reminded of my boyfriend and how happy we were...
before he dumped me for no good reason.
And I get very sad, and then I get angry.
And then before I know it, I am in the throes of an all-out emotional breakdown.
And so I was just thinking, Dr. Glen,
if I can just short-circuit my nose somehow,
I might actually have a chance of living a semi-normal life someday.
Hey, wait!
Couldn't sleep?
- No. - Me neither.
Does that happen to you a lot?
Yeah.
Me too.
Mmm.
- Just like eating worms. - Yeah.
Talent. Mmm. These are good.
Here.
Head back.
- Yeah? - Good.
Good.
Cold dumplings. My favorite.
Way to go, Tomcat. Two points.
Tomcat?
Cheerleader.
A what?
I was a cheerleader.
- You were a cheerleader? - Yes, I was.
Paul G. Blazer Memorial High. Pride and joy of Cincinnati, Ohio, state champs, 1989.
- Go, Cats. - Go, Cats.
Well, show me.
- No. No! - Come on! Why not?
I just haven't done it in ten years, Eddie. Come on.
- You come on. Show me. - You have to do something that merits a cheer.
Like, uh, like, like...
Like three dumplings, left-handed, in a row.
- You can't do that. - Deal?
Deal.
One, two, three.
Like that?
Come on. Come on.
Come on.
- You promise not to laugh? - No. Come on.
- What are those? - Pom-poms.
Okay.
I hate you.
It's okay.
Ready? Okay!
The Tomcats are here...
to show...
Whoa.
Ready? Okay!
The Tomcats are here...
to show who's top.
You think can beat us...
but we can't be stopped!
Go, Tomcats!
- Whoo! First and ten and... - Eddie?
Oh. Oh, sh... Um...
Oh, hey, hey.
- Um... - Hi. I'm, uh, Jane.
Roommate.
- Isabel. - Isabel, Jane.
- You can clean up. It's your turn. - Okay. Okay.
Good night. We're a little noisy.
Hi, George. It's Jane.
God, I'm such an idiot.
I mean, I sensed things were a little off when he got back from L.A.,
but I just thought that he was just jet-lagged or something.
Then he tells me the France thing isn't such a good idea...
because he's gonna have to work the whole time anyway,
so still, I figure, "Okay, that's no big deal. "
So Friday he gets on a plane, he goes over there alone.
Right? Wrong.
An hour ago, I call his hotel room to say good night.
Guess who answered the phone 1:00 a. m. Paris time?
Penelope Pope.
- Who's Penelope Pope? - I have no idea,
but that's what she said when I said, "Who the fuck is this?"
- Oh, God. I don't get it! - Liz, I'm sorry.
I mean, why feed me all that romantic crap if he's just gonna cheat on me?
- Two words: Copulatory imperative. - Excuse me?
It's the biological urge to spread their seed.
The truth is, less than five percent of all male animals are monogamous.
The other 95% are...
Plucking Penelope Pope?
Hi, Jane.
I, uh, stopped by H&H on the way in,
picked up a sesame seed bagel...
lightly toasted, just like you liked.
Okay.
Ray has a cold. I'm hoping it will turn into pneumonia...
and that weeks of bed rest will cause abdominal muscles to atrophy.
Ben wants to add a column to the magazine for women.
It finally hit him that 20% of our readership is female.
The idea is for it to be about men.
You know, how they're so paranoid...
- about going bald and that kind of thing. - So...
Forget baldness. The real issue is their behavior.
You know, that stuff like that copulatory impulse...
Imperative. Hey, Bobby, can I get some more hot water?
The point is, I think you should write it.
Are you crazy?
- Well, why not? I'm not a writer. B: I'm not a psychologist.
We don't need a psychologist.
We need someone who's been in the trenches, baby.
Liz, I don't know what I'm talking about.
All I have are a bunch of notebooks filled with ridiculous little factoids.
I mean, this is not a full-time job. This is a hobby.
A sick, twisted, pathetic little hobby.
You get paid to write about something you're already obsessed with.
If you want anonymity, we'll give you a pen name.
I personally think it'd be cathartic for you,
and you'd be doing your dear, sweet, wonderful friend a huge favor.
Pen name, huh?
I'm doing this once. Do you hear me? One time.
- Fine. I'm telling you, it's gonna be fun. - Fun?
I'm helping concoct the background of a nonexistent scientist...
who's about to publish her delusional theories in the nation's top men's magazine.
You're right. Ha! This is fun.
Okay, try this. Um...
Born in Sussex, 1937.
Cofounder of the Institute of Pathological Narcissism in Vienna.