The Captain - Fucking History - 52 Lessons You Should Have Learned in School

You think missing last Friday’s party was bad? Well, this poor bastard missed out on the biggest moment in his racing career. He won, but wasn’t there to enjoy it. How does that fucking happen? I’ll tell you. On June 4, 1923, Frank suffered a fatal heart attack midway through a race at New York’s Belmont Park. He died, but his horse kept running and actually won the fucking race. The weirdest part: Nobody even noticed Frank was dead until afterward. The officials went over to congratulate him on his first-ever career win and found a corpse saddled in. Frank’s dead, lifeless body was just bobbing around on top while the horse did all the work. (You know, like a terrible sexual partner: Physically they’re there, but other than that, they’re fucking lifeless.)

Talk about missing out. The greatest accomplishment of Frank’s life, and he wasn’t even there to enjoy it. Hopefully, somebody in Heaven threw him a celebration party.

Anyway, FOMO sucks, but as long as you’re there for the big, important moments of your life — like winning your first race — it’s okay to miss a party here and there. Prioritize, and pray you don’t die when something really cool actually happens.

Well, now that you’ve learned something new, you should go out and experience something new. Sign up for a pottery class or some shit. You wouldn’t want to miss out on the opportunity to make a cool mug or something, would you?

We all know what it’s like to try and interpret someone’s body language, analyze their subtle cues, and read between the lines of each and every text message. Why do we do this? Because we want to know if they feel the same way about us as we do about them. Do they like me? Do they really like me? Plain and simple, dating is confusing. And now, with social media, texting, dating apps, and a variety of other confusing modern-day creations, the relationship Rubik’s Cube is more complicated than ever before.

Sure, you can spend your time Googling lists and articles about how to tell if a guy or girl likes you. Personally, I like what Lord Timothy Dexter did to shake up the New England socialite society of the 18th century: He faked his own death.

Not a big deal; well, until you consider he was married at the time AND attended his own funeral as one of the nearly 3,000 guests. (Attending my own funeral is definitely on my bucket list.) But, out of those thousands in attendance, Mr. Dexter was really only concerned about the reaction of one individual in particular: his wife, Mrs. Dexter.

Anyway, guess what? She didn’t even cry at the funeral. WHAT THE FUCK? So, the not-so-dead Timothy was forced to reveal himself. After confronting Mrs. Dexter about her lack of emotion, he proceeded to publically cane her. Which is pretty fucked up because it’s exactly what it sounds like. I mean, I would have just told her it was over and I was taking the dogs (maybe even the kids), but Tim had a bit of a temper. Not too surprising — it takes someone pretty unstable to fake their own death.

However, what he did was actually kind of brilliant. It’s a great way to tell if somebody shares the same level of devotion that you do. So, the next time you have questions about the seriousness of your relationship, don’t eliminate faking your death as an option… it’s fucked up, but it’s effective.

Here’s a little fact you probably didn’t know about boob control: That elastic-clasp bra strap you’ve been taking for granted all these years was invented by none other than the famous author Samuel L. Clemens.

Filed for patent in 1871, Clemens was more than ecstatic — and far from humble — about his incredible elastic creation. How do we know this? Well, because he wrote the following phrase on the patent application: “The advantages of such an adjustable and detachable elastic strap are so obvious that they need no explanation.” He claimed the invention was useful for vests, pants, and any other garment requiring adjustment. Fortunately, the “other garment” category really took off. Thank God, right? That’s the category that needed Clemens’ creation the most.

As a girl, could you imagine trying to control your sweater puppies without this device? As a guy, well, you can thank Samuel for helping you easily let the dogs out. (And, dudes, don’t act like you’re fucking smooth. I guarantee you’ve been so excited and shaky, you’ve considered using scissors; trembling like a Chihuahua about to take a piss. “Oh my God, I’m gonna see a nipple.” Relax, Peter Pan, maybe if you spent less time with your Lost Boys you wouldn’t be so intimidated by the female form. You still think growing up is stupid?)

Anyway, before this device, women had the choice of either wrapping up like a mummy, forcing their girls into a corset, or simply saying, “Fuck it,” and walking around flapping like the ears of a Bloodhound. (Are you getting tired of my dog references yet? Good, because I’m not either.) I guess all I’m trying to say is: Long before Victoria had a secret, Samuel Clemens had a vision.

Oh, and did I mention Clemens’ pen name was Mark Twain? Yeah, THE Mark Twain. The same dude who wrote that book about Tom and Huck not giving a fuck and running away to an island. You also read about him earlier in this book. Anyway, take it easy and don’t let the dogs out. (Unless I’m invited.)

Moving on to another story about boobs, let’s be honest, everybody loves them. I mean, except for some absolute prudes, everyone enjoys a good set of boobs.

Seriously, girls like their own boobs, guys like their girl’s boobs, and girls like other girls’ boobs — even gay men appreciate them. So, I’ll say it again: “EVERYBODY LOVES BOOBS.” Now, there’s obviously a debate in regards to size, shape, real, fake, and a bunch of other shit I don’t really want to get into right now. Either way, regardless of your preference, boobs deserve your respect. In other words, if they aren’t your boobs, don’t be fucking touching them.

Take for example French physician René Théophile Hyacinthe Laennec. Not only was Laennec the inventor of the original stethoscope, he was a fucking professional and exemplary boob respecter. In 1816, Laennec didn’t feel right putting his head up against a female patient’s chest in order to examine her heart rhythm. (Why? Because he was fucking respectful — that’s why.) So, he improvised and quickly fashioned together a sturdy tube consisting of several sheets of rolled paper. And, it worked. He could hear the beautiful rhythm of the patient’s heart perfectly.

Laennec continued to improve upon his design, and the first documented use of his stethoscope was March 8, 1817. Oh, and he came up with the name “stethoscope” — Greek for, “I see the chest” — after getting tired of all the stupid names his friends were calling his invention. Eventually, decades of innovation led to the prop we now see used by non-qualified nurses and well-endowed doctors in today’s medical-themed pornos. Congratulations, Laennec. Your device has truly come full circle.

Well, you just learned something new. You’re welcome. Now, remember: It’s okay to look — everybody does — but don’t you dare touch them without permission, you pervy fucks.