Mark Leyner - Why Do Men Have Nipples? Hundreds of Questions You'd Only Ask a Doctor After Your Third Martini

Billy:Several days later I showed up at the Wonderland production offices and I apparently had attained a newfound level of credibility. Leyner had told the tales of our evening and I am sure he had added a little bit of writer’s embellishment. I was introduced to some of the other writers whom I had not met and sat briefly in their lavishly decorated and organized offices to answer the mundane medical questions from their respective scripts. My next stop was Leyner, and when I entered his office, it was like entering a tomb. The room was almost devoid of decoration and furniture, and it had a monastic feel. Leyner was lying on his stomach typing rapidly on the keyboard of his laptop. He looked up and without a greeting said, “Tell me everything you know about Kluver-Bucy syndrome!” We proceeded to discuss the clinical findings of this rare neurological disorder that causes individuals to put objects in their mouths and engage in inappropriate sexual behavior — obviously, a disease that was irresistibly attractive to the likes of Leyner.

Although critically acclaimed, Wonderland was canceled after three episodes. Leyner and I continued our strong friendship. We would talk about each other’s work, and I particularly enjoyed reading his scripts and adding my meager suggestions. We decided a collaboration was in order and pitched several TV pilot ideas together. Working with Leyner brought me back to my long-standing idea for a book of cocktail party medicine questions. Leyner greeted my invitation to work on this book enthusiastically.

Mark:I considered it for a moment or two and remember thinking, “Hey, I could make a shitload of money and do almost no work!”

Billy:I felt that I had offered Mark the opportunity to be the doctor he always wanted to be. I thought he was ready to share the burden of this project, and what you are about to read is the result of all our, well, no actually, all my hard work.

Enjoy.

Billy:

My sincerest thanks to: my family for supporting me when I rambled on about this idea for years, my friends for asking me hilarious medical questions, and my beautiful and wonderful wife, Jessica, for appreciating my quirks and giving me the strength to finally get this done.

Mark:

I want to thank my wonderful and wise friend Billy Goldberg, who did virtually all of the work on this book and still happily let them put my name on the cover next to his.

Together we would like to thank Amanda Urban and Jud Laghi at ICM; our editor, Carrie Thornton; and the entire staff at One Jefe Productions.

MARK LEYNERis the author of My Cousin, My Gastroenterologist; Tooth Imprints on a Corn Dog; I Smell Esther Williams;Et Tu Babe; and The Tetherballs of Bougainville . He has written scripts for a variety of films and television shows. His writing appears regularly in The New Yorker, Time, and GQ .

BILLY GOLDBERG, M.D.,is an emergency medicine physician on faculty at a New York City teaching hospital. He is also a writer and artist whose paintings have been exhibited in New York City.

It’s10P.M., and my partner in writing and crime, Mark Leyner, and I are late as usual, but the party is in full swing. We brought a bottle of Don Julio tequila, which Leyner sampled voraciously in the cab, insisting that it needed to be screened for industrial toxins. We enter the elegantly appointed Park Avenue home of Eloise Cameron, a philanthropist, patron of the arts, and Botox junkie. Hors d’oeuvres are being served and the slightly inebriated and flush-faced Leyner grabs a mouthful of Swedish meatballs, kisses our hostess, and then comments, “Eloise, baby, better lay off the collagen. Kissing those lips is like making out with the Michelin man.” She attempts to smirk with disdain, but the Botox leaves her face impassive.

I corral Leyner and we proceed into the living room. No sooner have we entered when I’m embraced from behind. I turn around and it’s Jeremy Burns, an investment banker who sits two rows behind me at the Knicks games. Jeremy is well known to the Madison Square Garden food vendors for his insatiable appetite for hot dogs, cotton candy, and beer. He is now almost unrecognizable in his new Atkins-induced skeletonlike state. “Who exhumed you?” Leyner belches. I am overcome by embarrassment but secretly wetting myself with laughter. Jeremy tries to sidestep Leyner and as their arms brush, Leyner is covered with the grease that now oozes from Jeremy’s pores. Leyner whispers to me, “This dude is all greased up like a rectal thermometer.” I push Leyner away and he uses this opportunity to sneak over to the bar for another blast of Don Julio. I am left with Jeremy and his insufferable stories about life on the meat-and-fat diet, and a million medical questions about food.

If we are what we eat, why do we know so little about food and nutrition?

What is it with seven years? You break a mirror, seven years of bad luck. Each dog year is seven human years. Seven years to digest swallowed gum? What if a dog broke a mirror then swallowed a pack of gum? Sounds like an algebra problem.

Chewing gum is not digestible but it definitely doesn’t sit in your stomach for years. Gum actually might help things move through the bowels faster. Sorbitol is sometimes used as a sweetener in gum and this can act as a laxative. What does this mean? Yes, if you look carefully, you should see it floating next to all of those lovely yellow corn kernels.

Asparagus contains a sulfur compound called mercaptan. It is also found in onions, garlic, rotten eggs, and in the secretions of skunks. The signature smell occurs when this substance is broken down in your digestive system. Not all people have the gene for the enzyme that breaks down mercaptan, so some of you can eat all the asparagus you want without stinking up the place. One study published in the British Journal of Clinical Pharmacology found that only 46 percent of British people tested produced the odor while 100 percent of French people tested did. Insert your favorite French joke here:________________________________.

3:32P.M.

Gberg:Mr. Leyner, sir????

Leyner:Sir, reporting for duty, sir!

Gberg:You ready for a little work, son?

Leyner:Sir, permission to discharge my weapon into the sky, sir?

Gberg:Just don’t hit the keyboard.