A numerical scale (from 0 to 10) by means of which variables, such as age, level of hotness, dating demand, level of horniness, family background, and boob to waist ratio, predicts how many dates and monetary investment you will need to score with a particular broad. It predicts with astonishing accuracy when the female will open her legs for you.
Yo... have been dating Suzie 4 times straight.
Have you scored yet?
So? What´s the point?
I´m cool Bro, Ease of Opening Index predicts no more than two dates and the gates will open for me.
A phrase you say when a friend, who constantly plays the victim, tells you for the millionth time
how miserable is his life, while refusing to see the bright aspects you keep mentioning.
"And then, when I asked my parents for extra money, they refused and instead of that asked me to take the garbage out. Ain´t that cruel?"
I understand you... Better Put A Blanket Around Those Chickens!
Recurrent mention of camel toe
by guys obsessed with the size of female genitalia.
"Ok guys... camel-talking, who you think has more meat, Angelina or Scarlett?"
"Well, camel talk wise I would say that, in this case, it depends if you are talking upper or lower lips.
Deep sense of moral decay a guy feels after wanking on a Playboy´s Centerfold.
Father... I confess that I regularly wank on Playboy´s Centerfolds.
Yours is a common symptom of pornography of regret.
Don´t worry Son... I used to wank on the photo on Aunt Jemima Buttermilk Complete Pancake & Waffle Mix.
That´s so sick, Father...!
Yeah Son... and well above racist wanking... but the pancakes were a hell of a treat!
The fascination that the American public has with the miserable lives of celebrities who, despite their wealth and fame destroy themselves with drugs and violence.
What´s wrong with Miss Lohan? She seems to have a terrible death wish.
Must See Train Wreck!
Deaths that occur when New Yorkers die on the subway´s tracks when in search of a particular item, such as an iPod, an iPhone, a Blackberry cellphone, or any other object.
Three New Yorkers died, during a six months period, after ill-advised forays to the tracks in pursuit of an iPod, a nylon LeSportsac bag containing gym clothes and deodorant and, lastly, a woman’s jacket.
Yeah... Climb Down Suicide!
Yo... I am horny 2 da bone!
Drop some bread
at the Slut Machine.