Friday, September 22, 2006

From Vince, to Lucy

A Model of "Lucy," the celebrated skeletal remains of a female hominid who lived 3.2 million years ago...


Hominid, Cradle of Humankind by flowcomm on flickr
He approaches her from behind, he is close. She is napping, curled up in the fetal position, resting her wary muscles. But she senses him, and with one quick extension of her powerful arm, she shoves him back at least five feet and he retreats. She does not want him on top of her right now.

She opens her eyes. Her babies are snuggled under a bush in front of her. She is thirsty and the sound of the stream calls to her. The stream; it could be dangerous there, and as she walks towards it, her alertness sharpens. After-all, everything drinks from that stream. And a great deal of them could run much faster than she, and they are bigger, and they may want to eat her.

Oh, the water feels good. She looks back at her babies. Mam, the eldest of the females, is sitting next to them now. And there is Luk, watching her with one thing on his mind.

The past or future is not in her vocabulary. Neither is money, or time, or worry, or love. But she has the feeling of love with her family. And she has a similar feeling of love with the water that makes love to her body, the sky that tells her when to sleep, and the land with its endless wonders, and the berries she only knows as ‘Suk’--her favorite.

She leads a lonely life, but is too busy living to know it--a lonely life, because she is the only one inside her mind. Everything else is outside. She likes it when Mam scratches her back.

All that she wants is another baby. She walks up to Luk, turns her back, and makes her pose. All that she wants is another baby…

Editor's note:
Hi Blogland visitors (if anyone’s still out there)--hope you are all doing well!!! I've been away from Blogland on various extra-curricular excursions. I'm taking a journey next week to Australia again for 40 days and 40 nights. Then I'm back here sometime in November.

As some of you know (April 13th post) my last expedition to Australia to catch the first invisible butterfly (Belenois Invisibilis) failed miserably.

This time, I’m going after something a little less elusive. A plant! I’m tentatively calling this plant the Arundiganth Amamilis. But it’s currently an undiscovered new species, and still just a rumor, but my sources and instinct tells me it’s out there in the Northern Territory—and I’m going to catch one. I say catch, because according to my contacts, this plant can apparently uproot itself and blow with the wind.
With shallow roots, it grows on other plants length-wise (flat, not tall.) It’s transparent, and virtually invisible. It can easily be mistaken for a slug trail, or when in flight, a string of spider web.
The problem is the plants are thought to thrive in a region controlled by up to 90 trillion Yellow Crazy ants. These bugs shoot acid in your eyes to blind you then they run away. Then they come back with a swarm of friends from their supercolonies to eat you. They can devour an entire human body in minutes.

I’m bringing my goggles, magnifying glass, Petri dish, rubber ant proof suit, and my usual Safari gear. Wish me luck!

Thursday, August 24, 2006

A World Without Men:

Someone sent me a lizard in the mail. I’m going to take it with me tomorrow for a 4 day road trip to Reno for good luck. The lizard made me think of the Y chromosome. They say in about 125,000 years the Y chromosome will completely disappear, and along with it the human male. Females will become unisexual and capable to reproduce without the need for a man.

The Whiptail lizard already does this. They are all female. But since offspring are all basically clone copies of the mom, the species has to rely on mutation to adapt and evolve.




So what if we woke up tomorrow and we lived in a world without men? What would be changed? Well, here are the top 10 changes:

10. The death penalty for being gay that currently exists in 9 countries won’t exist—since everyone will probably be lesbian.

9. God and the Bible will be obsolete—maybe there will be a Goddess though.

8. No more tampons or cramps—the whole system will change.

7. A two day work week—5 day weekend to better accommodate emotional needs.

6. Nuclear weapons will be gone—women are just not too good in math or war anyway.

5. Open sewers will be popular again—when’s the last time you saw a woman plumber?

4. Everyone will live in a shopping mall.

3. Women will be more beautiful, their breasts will look better, and they will make love with whoever they want, and whenever they want—just to spite the ghost of man.

2. Movies will be boring—I mean really.

And the number 1 change…
1. David Hasselhoff will be President of the United States—don’t ask!

Thursday, August 10, 2006

The Greatest American Dessert!



I ALWAYS eat desert before or during my main meal. I just don’t want a terrorist to show up and make my last mouthful a spoon of green beans. I’d rather go with a banana split in my mouth.

But not all people believe in, or benefit from the banana split. Terrorists, for example, would surely be a more peaceful folk had they discovered the charms of the ultimate fruity delight. And you can’t find a banana split in China! Or in a Chinese restaurant for that matter! The Chinese I know simply won’t touch the stuff—“It’s not healthy,” they say. “It’s better to eat rice and vegetables, and green tea for meals.”

Hog wash!!! You just gotta learn to balance things.

Speaking of balance, there is a time in every man’s life when a banana split becomes more attractive than a woman. I mean a banana split ALWAYS shows you a good time. You can count on a banana split. A banana split won’t argue with you, it just submits to your ravishing. A banana split is variety all in one, not like most women. And women claim to be sugar and spice and everything nice; but they still fart like everybody else. A banana split does not fart.

So a banana split has a place on my bike anytime. But a woman? Well, maybe if her name is Kristen Scott Thomas. Or Gwyneth Paltrow. Or Ashley Judd. Or Heather Grant. Or if she doesn’t mind dressing up like a banana split. Or if she wears perfume that smells like flowers, yeah, that will work too. Or popcorn. Perfume that smells like buttered popcorn.

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

Why I ride

A buddy and I have a smoke outside the sushi bar after lunch…










Bud: Why do you ride that motorcycle anyway?

Vin: It’s a chick magnet.

Bud: What, you like chicks that smoke, drink beer and have tattoos?

Vin: Heck yeah! Besides, it attracts all women—the danger, the inhibition—turns ‘em on.

Bud: It attracts skanks. You like skanks?

Vin: Heck yeah!

Bud: Liar!

Vin: What? You just don’t know the beauty of a skank.















Bud: Haha, what beauty? A crack head skank? You’re tellin’ me you would do a slutty, oily, sweaty, smelly dirty skank?

Vin: [I pause to think]

Bud: Haha See? You wouldn’t.

Vin: No, I was just thinking of some skanks I’ve met. You just don’t have a clue ‘cause you never get out. The skanks I’m thinking of—they’re the bomb man, I’d do ‘em in a heart beat!

Bud: You’re full of sh_t!

Vin: Fine, more for me, you’ll never know what your missing. A skank is like Heaven on Earth dude.















My buddy shakes his head, and just then a skank comes out of the liquor store and he starts cracking up.

Bud: Hey! What’s you’re tee-shirt say? [to the skank]

The skank turns around and shows him, it says “Guys and Brains Don’t Mix!”

Bud: Hey, I don’t agree with that!

Skank: You agree with this? [she lifts her shirt over her breasts.]

Bud: [Jaw drops]

Vin: Damn!

Skank: [puts her shirt back down.] You wanna help me carry this bag to my car?

My buddy helps her to her car, carrying her little bag full of probably smokes, condoms and booze. He comes back with a phone number and a big smile on his face.

Bud: Look what I got. Oh yeah baby! See how it’s done!

Vin: You got a phone number of a skank, wake up!!!

Bud: But you were just saying…

Vin: You gotta be choosey when you go skanking homer, not all skanks are equal. I can’t believe you just got pussy whipped by a skank.

Bud: Well I like this one, her name’s Sara.

Vin: I don’t care if her name’s Paris Hilton, you’ll need triple layer condoms with that one.

Bud: Don’t worry about it. Hey, I need to borrow your bike tomorrow night.

Vin: No way. Why?

Bud: I told her the bike was mine…