How-To sites have become a big hit on the Web lately, but the main ones strike me as unexciting.

I clicked on eHow.com, for example, and the top tip was, “How to buy shoes for the fall.” I’ve never understood updating shoes by the season. For men, the more typical interval is per-decade.

The site also featured earnest but not so interesting items like:

How To:

Save energy with landscaping; Check your oil; Exercise early in the morning.

I clicked over to WikiHow.com to look for something more interesting. Its featured items were slightly better, like this one: “How to make a towel turban.” Though again, as a male, I’ve never understood the thing where women walk out of showers with their hair wrapped in a terrycloth soufflé. If a man ever did that in a locker room, he’d get beaten up. I’d be more interested in how to make a rat-tail with a towel so you can snap it at your brother’s hind-side when he walks by.

WikiHow’s other featured items:

How to: Hardboil an Egg; Bake Cookies; Stay awake at work.

I kind of like that last one. The answer is to apply acupressure on the top of your head. I’ll have to try it at the next staff meeting.

But I’ve found a new how-to site that’s becoming known for more quirky tips. It’s called HowCast.com, and its featured articles yesterday were: How to perform a strip tease; Become a saint; Detect a lie; Talk to your cat. And: How to tell your boyfriend he’s a bad kisser.

What I like about HowCast is it seems to tap the knowledge of common folk. Having been often told I’m a very common person, I thought I’d offer up three of my own quirky tips if HowCast is interested.

• How to train your dog to come when called.

Some feel a dog’s failure to respond stems from not understanding the command. This is not true. Dogs know exactly what is going on. You have to see them for con artists they are. Typically, a dog who does not want to come will pretend he has found a perilous scent that needs to be followed. Another time-honored dog practice is to act hearing-impaired. The same animal who can hear you eating a turkey sandwich two rooms away will suddenly be deaf to your yelling from 20 yards.

Dog trainers will suggest long obedience sessions. But most dogs can still outlast owners. I suggest appealing to them on their own terms. Give them a biscuit when they come. And to signal that such a treat is at hand, shake the box. After a few repetitions, I guarantee the sound of a shaking biscuit-box will bring instant response every time.

• How to get your children to get stuff for you.

I have a friend who told me that when he was a kid, his dad would yell frantically for him — bringing him flying into the room expecting a crisis. Instead, slumped in a chair, his dad would say, “Change the channel.” This is harder today because we Baby Boom parents have not raised kids to salute as readily.

I suggest the “Unless I” technique. It does not work for me to simply tell my kids, “Could you bring me a Ginger Ale?” But starting years ago, I’d first say, somewhat tyrannically, “It’s time to go to bed. Now.” When they began to protest, I’d say, “Unless you . . . bring me a Ginger Ale.” Happy at the reprieve, they’d do it.

Even though they are mid-teens, it still works. I will threaten them with something dire, like not being able to go out with their friends on the weekend. At which point, like Pavlov’s Dog, they give the conditioned response, “Unless I . . .?” Thinking they’re getting a deal, they fetch me whatever I need.

• How to avoid dishwasher responsibilities.

The dishwasher is ground-zero in the marital kitchen wars, and poses fearsome traps. I’m not sure why, but men are terrified at having to face dishwasher duty. This is why we find the three-foot distance between sink and dishwasher so daunting we can’t carry plates and glasses that far.

This leads to our being upbraided for our sloth until we concede we have to put dishes in. But then comes the more terrifying prospect of finding yourself the one adding the item that fills the dishwasher. That means you have to get the Cascade and . . . it’s just too much. The solution is to master the “guy-load.” This is where you learn to wedge a 4-inch-wide glass into a 3-inch space, or jam quarter-inch-thick plates into 1/8th inch openings. It’s a critical skill.

Finally, there is the most daunting trap of all — having to put away a clean load. The best technique to avoid this is to preserve deniability. Never, ever open the door when the “clean” light is on. In fact, when it lights up, it’s best to leave the house.

If HowCast wants more, I have plenty. Meanwhile, I have staff meeting coming up, so it’s time to go to acupressure.

mpatinkin@projo.com