6 Stupid Internet Beauty Tips We Actually Tested

For the everyday shaver, if you run out of shaving cream, you just use a dab of soap. It's not entirely satisfactory, but it works in a pinch. BUT WHAT IF YOU RUN OUT OF SOAP? According to Examiner.com, peanut butter makes for a more than serviceable price-conscious replacement (for shaving your face, not scrubbing your junk). To test this, I grew enough facial hair to look like a Seattle barista circa 1992 and then slathered my face with a veritable "glop" of peanut butter.

Or "a "diarrhea of" depending on your bathroom lighting.

Applying it wasn't terrible, as I smelt like a Reese's man. Unfortunately, I needed to hack the legume paste off my face, so I began shaving, only to stop immediately when this happened:

Fuck.

Unlike shaving cream, every swipe of a brand-new razor required a full minute to remove the peanut butter. Instead of a clean-shaven goatee, I was left with a patchy facial hair ensemble that could only be described as "Shaggy from Scooby Doo, if he was caught in a grease fire." If you're going for that look, then by all means, shave with goober peas.

The face of a man who just remembered how much replacement cartridges cost.

After a cursory glance at prices on Google, I discovered that a gentleman's spa facial could cost up to $60, which is way pricier than most other facials you can find on the internet. Given that price, it sort of makes sense that some people would try out the kitty litter facial. I started by crushing and wetting several scoops of (clean) kitty litter and plastering it onto my face, like Steven Seagal under siege in the Scoop Away factory.

I'm guessing that this beauty regimen was popular with Al Jolson.

I then waited for it to dry, until I resembled a zero-fucks reboot of Der Golem.

Taking it off proved a bit challenging, what with hundreds of jagged particles digging into my face

Amazingly, it sort of worked! Sure, it was peeling a bunch of stalactites out of my pores, but my skin felt so smooth that it was like I had taken a bath in George Michael's "Careless Whisper." After all, kitty litter is made from certain types of clay, the same material used in a wide variety of facials. And if you can't get past the fact that you're wearing a product used to collect animal feces, well ...

As it dried, my eyelids kept getting glued to my brow as I blinked. Better than gluing my eyes shut, sure, but I ended up walking around for 30 minutes in a perpetual state of surprise. Once the glue dried, it was time to emerge from my arts-and-crafts chrysalis.

The face of a man still pissed about razor prices.

Glue remained stuck in my eyebrows, but it did the job, although not nearly as efficiently as the kitty litter. The only real bonus was this ghastly souvenir, which you're welcome to toss around your house so dinner guests will mistake you for a skin walker.

Or a mothman. Options!

Here's a comparison of my clean hand to my "took a wild ride through an Italian cafe" hand. The "tanned" hand on the left definitely got bronzed a bit, but, over the next few hours, my caffeine-lipid force field kept smearing all over nearby surfaces. I wouldn't recommend this exactly for you, dear reader, but perhaps for that special somebody you keep in the well in your basement.

"It puts the extra virgin decaf on it's skin, or it gets the hose again."

Are your feet crusty and hard? Are your feet not hooves? Rejoice! You can remove calluses by, uh, using stale bread soaked in apple cider vinegar. After taping the vinegary bread on my callus and taping it in place, I shoved my foot and my new burning wheat sock into a plastic bag and hit the hay.

TIP: Always ask the grocery clerk, "Will this bread bag hold a human foot?"

The result? Good morning, foot!

If foot could speak, he would be asking me "Why?" over and over again in a weary voice.

No, my foot did not liquefy. But the piece of bread did. Overnight, I had made the world's worst version of bread pudding. On the plus side, the vinegar ate away my callus (Yay!). But on the minus side, it returned a few days later (Boo!). In summation, I would only recommend this lifehack if it satisfies an intensely obscure sexual urge.

Once I added enough Jell-O to hate the color orange for the rest of my life, I wrapped my head in a towel, praying to the hair gods for a luscious Leeloo shade of orange.

My prayers went unanswered.

Yup, the conditioner dried on, causing the Jell-O to recrystallize in my hair and crumb off like citrus dandruff. I can't wait until next month, when the brain trust at Reader's Digest teaches me to whiten my teeth with lye.

Evan V. Symon is a personal experience team member at Cracked. If you have an awesome experience or job you'd love to write about, let him know at tips@cracked.com.

For more from Evan, check out 7 Gross Foods Your Grandparents Ate (That We Taste Tested). And then check out 19 Life Hacks You'll Want to Know in a Catastrophe.