In Practice:

The theory behind the whole "magic your bladder into a decision superweapon" thing is pretty sound. An urgent need to pee essentially reduces your brain to a jailer/torturer that is forced to assert control over your full bladder, while the latter is screaming: "Oh, God! Make this agony stop! Why can I find no release?" All off these force-signals -- that your brain is whipping your bladder with -- apparently bleed all over a bunch of other brain functions, resulting in a temporarily increased control over whatever task is at hand.

And this may well be the case ... in controlled lab conditions. I quickly found out that when a random dick like me uses his lunch hour to chug a jug of Kool-Aid in order to quickly and efficiently sort out a bunch of urgent matters, the only decision he's able to reach is to (barely) resist an overwhelming urge to piss all over the very concept of Excel. It was at this point that I revisited the research and found out that it doesn't actually apply to all sorts of decisions. According to the lead researcher, "People [with full bladders] are more able to control their impulses for short-term pleasures and choose more often an option [that] is more beneficial in the long run." I gave this a go, but as I attempted to bribe myself with promises to my future self, I soon became too distracted by an ever-increasing need to drain the main vein.

Monica Rodriguez/Stone/Getty Images
In hindsight, "one pot of coffee now or two pots of coffee tomorrow"
was probably a poor reward choice.

And, with that, my very first experiment was a failure. Let's, uh, let's just say I was lucky that the nearest toilet was only a few steps from my office. My sprint there was extremely decisive, though.

In Theory:

Everyone has his or her own ways to alleviate stress and bring his or her brain chemistry back from the boiling point. Many sport, others play video games, and some still prefer seedy back-alley hand jobs. But, what are you going to do when you're smack dab in the middle of work, unable to beat stress to submission with your weapon of choice?

Blow on your thumb, that's what! By sticking your thumb in your mouth and blowing on it, you can activate your vagus nerve, which should then calm your heart rate and lower your blood pressure. Some experts say that just blowing on your non-orally inserted thumb can help, too, though to a lesser extent.

OK, yeah, so I first thought this was kind of bullshit, too. Still, Newsweek says it works, and that was enough for me.

londoneye/Vetta/Getty Images
After all, it's not like they ever make mistakes.

In Practice:

You know what's not a great stress reducer? Being a grown-ass man, sitting with your thumb in your mouth, and making noises not unlike a beached whale attempting to blow open a clogged drain -- when a colleague unexpectedly walks in.

Not saying that happened, but just putting it out there. (Also, if you tell anyone, Jeff, so help me, I will sacrifice your Hawkeye bobblehead to the dark gods of marketing department.)

Turns out, science says the very bricks that build an awesome shower experience -- heat, soap, gettin' clean, being there waaaaay too long -- actually conspire to mess up your horny layer, which is a real thing that exists on your skin. (And, yeah, I laughed too.) The horny layer is basically a shell of epidermis smut that protects the living parts of your skin from outside influence -- and getting all hot and scrubby in the shower destroys the shit out of it, especially if you do it too often.

So, let's not!

In Practice:

I took to the task, following the exact advice given by the article mentioned above: less showers (I settled on three per week, as science doesn't give an exact figure), colder showers (in order to cause less damage on the epidermis), and gloriously air-drying myself instead of murdering my horny layer with rampant towel-scrubbery. Almost instantly, protests over the latter emerged as I paraded my majestic, dripping husk all over the living room. However, that was just the beginning of how much the whole "less showers" thing sucked.

Are you familiar with the scientific concept known as "ass stank"? Because no matter how healthy reduced showering might be for your skin, that's what you get as a side effect when your body is used to daily cleansing. I am a person, and, as such, a proud owner of things such as armpits, a crotch, and a butt. There is sweat. This means the epidermis soon becomes a secondary issue, as opposed to a slowly, but surely emerging, waft of eau de arse, which is generally frowned upon in most non-Burning Man environments. It's amazing how quickly this starts to accumulate when you're used to at least one daily shower.

Michael Cogliantry/The Image Bank/Getty Images
On a positive note, you always have plenty of space in an elevator.

To recap: During the two-week period I attempted this thing, I fell into living my life as 80 percent smelly hobo and 20 percent dripping wet home nudist. The showers sucked because the water was only lukewarm, and when anyone asked me what was going on, my reply was something about "protecting my horny layer," which is why the mob chased me into this tree where I'm writing this column from. In conclusion, fuck horny layer. You can read that however you like -- those two weeks probably landed me on plenty of watch lists anyway.

In Theory:

As you may or may not remember, I have dabbled with losing weight every once in a while. Although I have always managed to steer clear of crash diets and bullshit like that, the one semi-trend I have fallen for is the fast day/feast day form of dieting. Some time ago, I briefly and mostly accidentally found myself adhering to a schedule in which I only remembered to eat every once in a while, to the point where I went entire days fueled by primarily coffee and maybe a sandwich. When I noticed that rhythm -- brought on by a particularly hectic work schedule -- I started Googlin' about and found that the whole fast day/feast day thing was a, uh, thing. So, instead of fixing an unhealthy eating habit, I found myself doing that action where you wrangle a bad habit into a good one in your head. How could anything go wrong? I had science in my corner, baby!

Oli Scarff/Getty Images News/Getty Image
Which is never an unnerving thing at all.

In Practice:

Again, what in theory is a potentially neat way to improve your body ... falls flat on its fucking face when applied to real life. Due to completely failing to do my homework, I accidentally started out with a pretty hardcore version, making my way through the first couple of eat-nothing days consuming little more than water and using the feast day card to stuff my face with copious amounts of whatever I could get my hands to. My system never got the chance to adjust to this new rhythm -- I was forced to stop after just a few days because when you see the neighbor's new car and your first instinct is to wonder what it tastes like, you're either Michel Lotito or fucking starving. I then re-read the instructions and switched to a slightly less murderous variation that allowed me to consume 500 calories on the fast days -- which is no picnic, but, at least, drowns out the body's worst "stop killing me, you fool" signals.

I lasted less than a week.

comotion_design/Vetta/Getty Images
"That's what you get for failing to give us fuel, dork."

Looking back, I suppose that rough start of eating basically nothing on fast days was what screwed the whole thing for me. The experts touting the "every other day diet" steadfastly claim that the people keeping fast days actually wind up eating more healthily on the feast days, as well. This was most certainly not true for me, as the fast days left me too exhausted to cook anything for the feast days, which basically reduced the whole thing into a fast-food-or-nothing diet. Lacking nutrients and stamina, as well as finding that the anger issues accompanying hunger were rapidly intertwining with my rapidly increasing hatred of hamburgers, I was forced to call it quits before I would assault and/or attempt to eat a McDonald's executive in a malnutrition-induced fury.

On the positive side, after I stopped the fast days, I almost immediately lost five pounds because I couldn't bear to even look at a fucking cheeseburger.