My 28 years of life experience have taught me nothing if not that dudes, while nice and everything, just aren’t that impressive when you take into account that Paul Newman once walked this earth.

If you have a guy in your life right now, please avert your eyes. The truth you are about to see isn’t pretty.

I mean, it’s actually REALLY pretty, but that’s kind of the problem. Consider yourself warned.

And now, please observe the times that Paul Newman proved himself a life-ruiner:

When he was all like ‘what’s up, I’m shirtless Jewish, btw”

When he made all of us realize that socks worn with loafers and denim shorts were the only cookware a Real Man could ever need. Also, that’s some pretty nice self-restraint at work here: obviously, he could have fried breakfast on his abs if he felt like it.

When he was like “forget the rules, my cat wants to go to the zoo.”

When he proved once and for all that smoking is cool.

When he wanted to sit down, so he found a box of dynamite.

When he dazzled Joanne Woodard, a stuffed rabbit, and  even himself with his JLO impression.

When he was shirtless in a field and reassured all of us that he had the ability to open a bottle of beer anytime, anywhere.

When he examined a comic book and determined he was more like Superman than Superman. And much better dressed.

When he was told that no men in the world look like him, and his heart broke for the sorrow we all must endure.

When he referred to his wife as a steak, which seemed sort of objectifying but not really ’cause he was explaining that he wanted to be married to a steak and who are we to question his marital preferences?

When he made all of the French dudes in the world sad after he stole their little mustache. Forever. They still have the Eiffel Tower, but only ’cause Paul Was like “how am I supposed to wear that?”

When he proved that earthly rewards (like Oscars) don’t amount to a hill of beans when you’re literally God’s gift to women.

When he was on a fishing trip and didn’t actually need a pole ’cause the fish were tripping over one another to be caught.

When he picked up a hot coffee cup with a cool hand and didn’t even have to verbalize a joke. The crow’s feet did it for him. His crow’s feet are funnier than any comedian in the world, but in a hot way.

When he hung out in front of a butcher’s shop for funsies and no one questioned it. No one.

When he kissed a baby. I’m not even sure if it was HIS baby. Doesn’t matter.

When he went browsing for old books in a trenchcoat before hipsters were even born.

When he made binge-eating look attractive.

When he stood all naturally and was like “this is just how I look when I think about stuff.”

When he was so hot that all paper in his vicinity just lept into flames in an act of self-sacrifice to prevent Paul from feeling a chill.

When we were all “pinky rings are so douchey  awesome. I’d like to be a pinky ring. I’d like to be THAT pinky ring.”

When he was shirtless impervious to being tickled.

When he showed us THE CORRECT way to read.

When he was all like “giant dancing cats don’t scare me.”

When he made the world understand that the concept of the color wheel is ridiculous and blue is the color of love, beauty, infinity, and everything else that matters.