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Informationen zum Autor Mark Leyner is 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. Klappentext Is There a Doctor in the House? Say you're at a party. You've had a martini or three, and you mingle through the crowd, wondering how long you need to stay before going out for pizza. Suddenly you're introduced to someone new, Dr. Nice Tomeetya. You forget the pizza. Now is the perfect time to bring up all those strange questions you'd like to ask during an office visit with your own doctor but haven't had the guts (or more likely the time) to do so. You're filled with liquid courage . . . now is your chance! If you've ever wanted to ask a doctor . . . •How do people in wheelchairs have sex? •Why do I get a killer headache when I suck down my milkshake too fast? •Can I lose my contact lens inside my head forever? •Why does asparagus make my pee smell? •Why do old people grow hair on their ears? •Is the old adage "beer before liquor, never sicker, liquor before beer . . .” really true? . . . then Why Do Men Have Nipples? is the book for you. Compiled by Billy Goldberg, an emergency medicine physician, and Mark Leyner, bestselling author and well-known satirist, Why Do Men Have Nipples? offers real factual and really funny answers to some of the big questions about the oddities of our bodies. CHAPTER 1: YOU ARE WHAT YOU EAT It's 10 P.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, proceeds to kiss 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? DOES IT REALLY TAKE SEVEN YEARS TO DIGEST CHEWING GUM? What is it with seven years? You break a mirror, seven years of bad luck. Each dog year is seven human years. S...
