Self-deprecating humor is overrated. Too often my attempts to appear endearingly self-conscious result in a consoling hand on my shoulder, and a heartfelt assurance that there are some women who like guys with a big nose.

And then I would be stuck in that awkward moment where if I do not explain that I was kidding, I look like an insecure loser, but if I do explain, I look like an insecure loser trying desperately to not look like one. A third option, I suppose, would be to greatly exaggerate another one of my features but in a positive way. “I have gorgeous eyes though,” I’d say. “I’ve been told I should be an eye model.”

The hole practically digs itself. Now I’m an insecure loser who tries to compensate. Not even changing the subject to the nice weather can undo the torrent of self-implicating crap spewed so far from my mouth. At this point, I no longer speak unless I can get a lawyer.

I’m done with self-deprecation. Instead, I have come up with a new form of humor that shows much promise, that of self-defecation. Seriously, some of the jokes are so funny, I shit myself.