je ne sais quoi

It’s hard to put your finger on, but most of you have to admit that Big Dick has a certain je ne sais quoi. Big Dick is like that ugly-assed mongrel dog that you know nobody is going to take home, but he looks up at you in that pathetic way dogs do and you tell him, “Forget it, you son of a bitch. That sad look ain’t gonna work.”

Then, that drop-dead gorgeous woman in the short dress made out of that clingy fabric that molds to the shape of her boobs and emphasizes her nipples comes along. You, know, the one with the long legs, the long blonde hair and the eyes that make you all goofy when she looks at you. She says, “I think he’s just darling.”

She touches him on the head and everyone agrees that he is just about the neatest dog there ever was. Then, when she leaves, and everyone is flaccid again, you look back at the dog and say, “Forget it. Ain’t gonna work.”

Let’s all use the expression je ne sais quoi in our daily conversations today—at least once. The people around you will think you are one smart, sophisticated motherfucker.

They’ll say, “Did you notice that (insert your name here) is one smart, sophisticated motherfucker?”

Or my name isn’t Dick Clinch.