Clydes Versus Rubes: The Final Confrontation.

Greetings, and welcome to another installment of Asking The Wrong Guy!

Thanks in part to a generous grant from the Basic Instructions Empire, this column now features all 26 letters of the alphabet.

What exactly are these clydes and rubes of which you speak? Is it better to be a clyde or a rube, and how does one tell if one is one?


As my long-time readers are aware, I am well-versed in the subject of Denigrating Those Below Me and all the nuances this endeavor entails, and so I am eminently well-qualified to help you with this question.

Clydes and rubes are both terms used to identify dull-brained, incompetent, morons. Usually inhabiting urban areas, it is important to note that they should not be confused with bumpkins, who are, specifically, dull-brained, incompetent morons from the countryside. The main difference between clydes and rubes is that a rube is an idiot who doesn’t realize he is a rube, while a clyde is a rube who doesn’t think he is an idiot.

Two examples easily come to mind: Laurel and Hardy, and Ren and Stimpy. In the case of Laurel and Hardy, Stan Laurel is a rube, while Oliver Hardy, clearly, is a clyde. Similarly, Stimpy is the very definition of a rube, while Ren is a clyde, and a particularly psychotic one at that.

Judging from these two examples, it is preferable to be a rube, since, as we can learn from watching Laurel and Hardy shorts, in the end the rube often has his hair tousled by a lovely young woman while the clyde will invariably have his head caught in something or have a cartoonishly-large bandaged wrapped around his jaw.

The term clyde originated in biker culture, and so, one may often hear dialogue of the following nature that will easily differentiate who is a clyde and who is a rube: “Ha! Look at that rube who is being savagely beaten by that biker! Say, why is that biker coming towards me, menacingly brandishing a tire iron with a look of utter and complete malice in his eyes? Ow! Hey, quit beating me without rest about the face and neck! I am not a rube! I am not a rube!”

As to how to tell if you are a rube or a clyde: if you are not sure if you are a rube, you are, indeed, a rube. If you do not think you are a rube, you are a clyde.

Here is the ultimate question: boxers, briefs, or boxer-briefs, and why?


I believe I have addressed this issue in a past column. However, this is one of the imponderables of life that cannot be discussed too much.

Ruling out boxer-briefs as an unholy abomination, boxers are definitely the preferred choice as they give one a sort of jaunty, 1940’s look. Wearing briefs, on the other hand, gives the impression that some kind of horrible sex crime is about to take place.

Spread the good news about bad advice, and be sure to keep those questions coming in, folks! I can’t provide my sage wisdom if you don’t display the lack of good judgment to come to me for help!

Also, if you have nothing better to do, be sure to check out, the funniest comic strip in any of the known universes!

Until next time, may the Great Cosmic Shoe crush us all.

As always, please direct all desperate cries for help to