Dem Bones

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It had to happen sooner or later. Researchers weren’t happy scraping around in the donated brains of the Einsteins of this world. (I can never eat chili in a bread bowl — it reminds me of Hannibal Lecter.) Now they want to dig up scientists’ corpses — specifically, Galileo — and figure out why they effed up their theories and calculations. Well, maybe not so much why they screwed up as much as make excuses for them.

So Galileo called it wrong about Saturn. It was round and ringed. We don’t need to make excuses for his bad eyesight. We don’t need to take DNA to try and pin it on his bad case of creeping juniper glaucoma or whatever. We don’t need to know about his arthritis, his night sweats, his bloody discharge (orifice unknown.) The Catholic church has readily admitted that Galileo finally went blind but you don’t see it making excuses for him. As a spokesman for the Pope said, “He was under house arrest with no visitors for years. Of course he went blind.”

What’s next? Will we start taking DNA from old has-been ball players? Shawn Bradley would have been great. If only he hadn’t had the Big White Stiff gene. Or worse. Will we start looking at ourselves and making excuses? Who knows. I might have to take my own DNA sample down to the admin building in defense of my crappy bulletin boards. Wouldn’t that make those nasty teacher unions even more powerful than they are now! They could get me a special dispensation for using store bought posters instead of handmade artsy stuff we’re supposed to do on our own. It would go down in my file in human resources — Must be allowed use of stencils due to lack of fine motor skills. No artistic bent whatsoever. Needs positive reinforcement. Kind of like an IEP (Individualized Education Plan) for professionals.

So maybe all those high-browed scientists should stop the madness and take a tip from us Texans — we only do exhumations here to see how tore up the body is.

Published in: on January 23, 2009 at 9:57 pm  Comments (4)  
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Quiz Flashback — What Mythological Creature Are You?

You Are the Fiji Mermaid

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Let’s face it — you’ve seen better days. You’re a far cry from Ariel, the white-washed, romanticized pussy that people expect you to be.

You look like you might have been a “taxidermal hoax” and the decrepit state you’re in gives new meaning to the word flaky.

You gave up trying to impress the ladies, especially after the onslaught of female pattern baldness. You never had a chance anyway, seeing as you were probably a cross between a spider monkey and a piranha that was carefully pieced together in some back alley circus tent.

The happiest day of your life was when you washed up on the shores of Lake Texoma with some of your teeth still intact. That carnie tried to pull them all because he thought no one could properly analyze a skull without any teeth. That dumbass didn’t know shit about DNA.

The second happiest day of your life was when Jesus finally found you a mate — a mermaid of color, with a full head of hair, and a libido to match.

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Nympho Mermaid

Published in: on November 7, 2008 at 5:41 pm  Leave a Comment  
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