Category Archives: aliens

Adam, the goodliest man of men since born his sons; the fairest of her daughters Eve; oh, and a stegosaurus.

Is it science day? Yes, it seems to be. How lucky for our Science Fellow! And how lucky we HAVE a Science Fellow on days like this! 

Now, I come across many sciency articles in my day-to-day, and then I HOARD them. Like a CHIPMUNK. Not in my cheeks, that’d be crazy. You can’t save a website in your cheek. It’d get all soggy and shit. No, I have a FILE for them. It is labeled “stuff.” I know, descriptive, right? It’s where I keep…well…my stuff. And I realized today, look at all this sciency stuff! Let’s talk about our sciency stuff. 

Today, we have UFOs, Jesus dinosaurs, cake, and strippers. Um, Amy, you are saying. These don’t sound overly sciency. Are you sure they are sciency? YES I AM SHUSH YOU. 

What do you want first? Strippers? OK, fine, I’ll give in to your need for strippers first. I’m down with that. 

According to this article, if you are a stripper, you need to plan your work shifts around when you’re ovulating, because strippers make a metric shit-ton more tips when they’re ovulating as opposed to when they’re not. 

Is that not mind-boggling? 

Here’s a breakdown of how much women made, tip-wise, according to this one study, based on their time of the month. 

  • Women menstruating: $35 (I’m guessing this is because the women wanted to stab their customers because of the cramping, and who wants to give a tip to a stripper who’s all bloated and stabby?)
  • Women anytime between menstruation and ovulation: $50
  • Women ovulating: $70 

Now, women on the pill averaged $37 an hour overall, as opposed to women not on the pill, who averaged $53 an hour overall. 

Apparently, according to SCIENCE, when you are ovulating, you experience “changes in body odor, waist-to-hip ratio, and facial features.” Also, you dance on the pole more seductively. Huh. Really? Mostly when I’m ovulating I get weird shooting pains, and I’m all “oh crap in like two weeks THAT shit’s going to happen again EFF ME BEING A LADY-PERSON IS SO EXHAUSTING” so I’m cranky. But I’m always cranky, it’s not like that’s a new occurrence or anything. So, wait, does that mean I’m broken? How come my ovulation milkshake doesn’t bring all the boys to the yard? Why do I have a broken ovulator? 

Now, to be fair, according to Jezebel, real-life strippers did this study themselves and found out it was WRONG. (Also the scientists studied ONE CLUB over TWO MONTHS. Bad scientists. BAD!)

Anyway, so, fellas, the next time you’re at a strip club, remember, the stripper you find the most appealing probably really isn’t; she’s possibly just totally fertile, so if you end up letting her climb your pole, use protection or you might find yourself a daddy all of a sudden, you deadbeat. (Also, be nice to strippers if you go to a strip club because they work really hard and the one time I went to a strip club they were SO SO NICE and totally let us use their secret bathroom since there were no ladies’ rooms in the strip club and we got to see their dressing rooms and it was like being backstage of a theater except the costumes were scanty and the makeup was pasties and glitter.) 

Much nicer than you’d think! Also, willing to share their bathroom, aw!

What do you want next. Jesus dinosaurs? OK, good. Andreas, I can hear you now shaking your head about how NOT SCIENCY this is. There is totally a scientific basis to everything I’m discussing today. I stand by that 100%. 

In Kentucky (slogan: “Unbridled Spirit,” which is nowhere NEAR as good as their original slogans, “It’s That Friendly” and “Where Education Pays” – I’m totally serious about these), there is a museum called The Creation Museum. In The Creation Museum, you learn important things. One of which is that Adam and Eve hung out with velociraptors. 

Here are Adam and Eve. In the background: DINOSAURS.

Apparently everyone knew about this place but me (and it was in the movie Religulous, which I really have got to get my hands on at some point, you people need to start reminding me of these things), because there are a LOT of awesome photos of it on the intertubes. But this museum is about dinosaurs, and also the BIBLE. And it tells you how God created dinosaurs on the same day he created all the other animals, and the dinosaurs lived in the Garden of Eden with Adam and Eve and tra-la-la everyone was so cheery. I guess until one of the T. Rexes ate Eve and then Adam had to commit the sin of Onan, or maybe have sex with a goat or something. Oh, also it says dinosaurs were on Noah’s Ark. Man, that ark must have had much chaos what with the chompery on the less-angry species, right? 

I am writing this at work, and I can’t click on the website for The Creation Museum because it’s blocked. Due to “religion.” I AM SO OFFENDED WORK. I am having to research this using a combination of people’s reviews, Wikipedia, and random other sites. It is not optimal. 

Apparently, the point of this museum is to “equip Christians to better evangelize the lost.” Hee! “The lost.” HELP WHERE AM I. Or maybe Sawyer and Jack and Kate! Oh, and in case you’re wandering around the museum and you’re like, “Dude! I AM ONE OF THE LOST!”, “To help the museum’s mission to evangelize, a chaplain is on staff for visitors in need of spiritual guidance.” HELPFUL. Also, to work there you have to sign a statement that you hate the gays and you believe that Adam and Eve hung out with velociraptors and that Noah’s Ark really happened and everything in the Bible was real, I’m assuming up to and including Balaam’s talking donkey. Oh, OH, also, all African-Americans are the “cursed offspring of Ham.” That’s a new one on me. That’s a thing? Good grief, like there’s not ENOUGH racism in the world. Also, apparently if they know you’re there to mock it and you’re sciency, they make you sign something that you won’t mock it while you’re in there, or say anything like “THIS IS QUACKERY BULLSHIT.” (I highly recommend you click on that link in the last sentence. It is intelligent and wonderfully written and hilarious. I very much would have liked to visit the museum with this guy. “I do not think I like these people.” Indeed.) 

Also, apparently the museum, in order to explain WHY T. Rex wouldn’t have just chomped the shit out of Adam and Eve, decided to say T. Rex was a vegetarian. You know, because that’s what you do when science doesn’t fit what you’re trying to explain with the Bible. ZOMG is Andreas’s head exploding right now, I can hear it across the WORLD exploding. (Also, Andreas, to add insult to injury? The dinosaurs are even made wrong. Their skin is wrong, their bone structure is wrong, they stand wrong, and because the museum people don’t like that some dinosaurs had feathers because it doesn’t fit into the Biblical timeline they’ve made up, they took off the feathers. Love it? Thought so.) 

ZOMG also DRAGONS you guys. DRAGONS!!!1!!

A full-sized replica of Noah’s Ark that you can take an adventure on will be unveiled in 2014. It is called ARK ENCOUNTER. Man I hope that part of ARK ENCOUNTER is that you get eaten by a velociraptor. Unless those are vegetarians, now, too. I’m not sure if all the dinosaurs are vegetarians in this version of the past or not. 

Listen, I can’t be the only person who wants to go to this museum to mock it so bad right now, right? Thing is, it’s doing REALLY WELL. And I can only imagine those of us going there to mock it make up, like, half of the clientele. Which means the other half? ARE PEOPLE WHO THINK THAT ADAM AND EVE RODE TRICERITOPS LIKE TINY PONIES. 

All saddled up and ready for ridin’.

Sometimes I despair, I really do. 

Let’s talk about something less stabbity and more delicious. Cake. Mmmm, cake. 

According to this article, the reason we’re all fat and eating all the HoHos is because the economy sucks. 


Apparently, in our brain, we’re like, eff this, the world’s going to hell in a handbasket, LIVE FOR TODAY I WILL EAT ALLLLL THE PUDDING, and then we do and we all get diabetes. 

Apparently, what you’re supposed to do in order to make better food choices is calm the hell down and think about the long-term and not about the short-term and blah blah bliddedy blah did someone say cake earlier? I think they did. 

Listen, I have no idea if the science backs this up. It seems to, whatever. The sheer fact of the matter is, cake and potato chips and pizza and food that is bad for us is DELICIOUS. Things that are less delicious? A healthy garden salad, or a bowl of Wheaties with skim milk. We are intelligent. We KNOW the latter is better for us than the former. But we ALSO know that MAN that cake is full of delicious noms. Is it a live-for-today thing? Maybe. But also it’s a “my tastebuds are happier when I have me some buttercream frosting, yo” thing. Do with that what you will, science-types. 

Finally? UFOs. 

Apparently there’s a show coming out about UFOs, so the people making the show did a survey, and 36% of Americans believe in UFOs. 1 in 10 people who responded think they’ve SEEN a UFO. 77% of respondents believe there are signs that aliens have visited earth at one point or another (yet the article doesn’t tell us what these signs are. I’m guessing The Creation Museum.) And 65% of respondents think that Obama would handle an Independence-Day-style invasion better than Romney. (I agree. All that spaceship-wind would muss the HELL out of Romney’s perfectly-styled politician-coif.) 

…watch the hair, aliens. THE HAIR.

Also, there are a LOT of people who believe in conspiracy theories like my Dad does, because 79% of people think the government is hiding evidence of aliens and 55% think the Men in Black really exist. 

Um. Well, here’s my theory on aliens, if you care. I think it’s really short-sighted to think we’re the only intelligent form of life that exists. So do I think there’s something else out there? Yeah, probably. Somewhere. Do I think they’ve been here? Don’t know. Probably not. We’d know if they had, wouldn’t we? Probably? I guess if they came a long time ago, maybe not. But if they came now, I don’t know how it could be kept a secret. Not with cell phone videos and YouTube and everything. I mean, secrets aren’t kept that well anymore, not in the age of the internet. 

I’ve never seen anything I can’t explain that might be a spaceship. I know someone who has, but I promised that person I’d never mention it to anyone so I won’t. But that person seemed really, really serious when telling me about it, and I believe that person truly believes that what was seen was of alien origin.  

48% of respondents, by the way, said they “weren’t sure” whether or not they believed in UFOs. That’s the majority of respondents. I’m in the majority on this one. 

There you go! More scienciness than you can shake a sciency stick at! Isn’t science day the best?  

I’m going to go check the backyard and see if there are any T. Rexes or maybe velociraptors hanging out outside and then maybe I can RIDE them. Huzzah! 

Oh. Shit. Guess I’m not riding one of these. (Hee! This is totally going to take a nip out of this guy’s suity butt.)

She may not look like much, but she’s got it where it counts, kid.

Remember last week we talked about aliens either being in Pennsylvania and bothering poor Jim or not bothering poor Jim, who knows? Well! Listen, I was playing around online (it’s what I do) and found a LOT of alien stuff. SO MUCH ALIEN STUFF. Listen, I think we need to take a closer look at this alien situation, because it’s a total worry.

This comes from this website io9. The tagline of this website is “we come from the future.” Well, that’s already scary. A whole WEBSITE from the FUTURE? Oh, I don’t know about that, I can barely deal with my day-to-day.

In this article, we find out that there are a TON more planets capable of hosting alien life out in the galaxy than we thought there were. TONS. Like, we only thought here were SOME, but apparently scientists were WRONG (are we totally discovering in our search for truthiness and such that science is not…um…an exact science? Yes, yes we are) and there are a not only a lot more planets in existence than they thought there were, there are a lot more planets that could host alien life forms.

Heh, Uranus.

Hmm. Maybe we shouldn’t have discontinued our space shuttle program, right? Because of the aliens. Because of all the aliens. Do you think the aliens know we’re here and are ignoring us because we’re annoying and we don’t recycle as much as we should? I”m guessing yes. I think they’re well-aware we’re here, and they’re all, “Oh, please don’t let them notice us. Oh, please. OH CRAP THEY SAW US YOU GUYS. Frank, I TOLD you not to move, dammit. This is ALL YOUR FAULT, effing FRANK.”

“HIDE, Frank. Hide. What don’t you understand about this? WE CAN’T LET THEM SEE US. They are TOTALLY ANNOYING and will WANT TO BORROW OUR LAWNMOWERS. And you KNOW they would never return them until a long time passes and it gets really awkward.”

Now, let’s say we FIND the aliens that we now know exist on all these planets. What will happen when we find them?

According to this article, they will conquer us, conquer us all, but they will not eat us or do the horizontal tango with us. Huh. Well, THAT’S something.

Apparently, the aliens will come here and conquer us because they need our resources, just like in the movies. Disturbing! Listen, aliens, I don’t have any resources, I’m a very poor poor person. And you can’t have Dumbcat. He’s my most special resource and you wouldn’t have any use for him anyway. He would just try to hide in your pots and pans cupboard. Do you even have a pots and pans cupboard on a spaceship? Probably not. SO WHERE WOULD HE HIDE?

The aliens would not eat us, though. The aliens would not eat or drink anything on our planet. They would not need to, because they would eat and drink things from their OWN planet. Huh. Well, what happens when they run out of their sack lunches? They’re going to get pretty hungry and the cafeteria’s pretty far away.

I found this on the internet for you. This is a hungry alien. He likes…um…ice cream bars? I guess?

And, and probably MOST importantly, they would NOT want to mate with us. This is the best paragraph in the entire article. Because, well, alien sex. And it’s written in a humorous tone. Listen:

“The idea that they’ve come for breeding purposes is more akin to wishful thinking by members of the audience who don’t have good social lives,” Shostak told IEEE Spectrum. “Think about how well we breed with other species on Earth, and they have DNA. It would be like trying to breed with an oak tree.”

I guess this book is a real thing? Um. I don’t think…no. No, I don’t think I want to read this. Thanks.

So the geeks of the world WANT to have sex with the aliens. ALL THE ALIEN SEX. (Also, don’t Google “sex with an alien” because you will need to bleach your eyeballs.) And also, “trying to breed with an oak tree” made me laugh and laugh. I knew this girl once who was either nuts or really, really hungry for attention, and she used to make out with trees. And rub up on them. And hump them. And people’d be all, “There goes Mary, humping a tree again!” and we’d just nod sagely and be like, yep, that’s Mary for you, with those trees. So Mary from my past would totally try to have sex with the aliens. Because she loved trees. LURVED trees. Or just the attention people paid when she was humping on trees.


So the aliens will come and take us over and they don’t want us for FOOD and they don’t want us for MATING so what DO they want us for? My guess is hard labor or as pets. Or they’ll just kill us because we’re in the way and dirtying up their pretty new Earth.

Finally, we have this – proof that the aliens are probably already here. And among us! But not boffing us. They don’t do that. We learned that above, weren’t you paying attention?

This is from some news website somewhere in California. I feel like that’s how these things start. Small TV stations report them, because the government doesn’t let the big sites do it. That’s what my Dad would say, anyway. GOVERNMENT CONSPIRACY! CHIPS IN OUR BRAINS!

Apparently there’s an object in the Baltic Sea – the Baltic sea is between Sweden and Finland, and GUESS WHO LIVES OF RIGHT NEAR THE BALTIC SEA?

Yep, my Science Fellow Andreas, oh, Andreas, you’re living right over the aliens, this is bad, so, so bad.

This object looks like the Millennium Falcon and has a dome-shaped top and they keep sending divers down to investigate it, but it doesn’t seem like a lot of details are being released. OF COURSE THEY’RE NOT BECAUSE OF ALIENS.

Here’s the Millennium Falcon…

…and here’s the object. SAMESIES!

Here’s a bigger article out of England. Rocks covered in soot and a runway and unidentified shapes under the sea! This is very exciting. Also, did you see the part of the article that said there is a TON of treasure at the bottom of the Baltic Sea? Andreas! You are living over a ton of treasure. You should go be a pirate, it would be very lucrative where you are. Arr!

Avast, Andreas, my matey!

So, what have we learned today? Aliens have plenty of places to live; they’re totally coming here, but they won’t be playing hide the sausage with us; and there are alien ships (and pirate treasure!) under Andreas, one that possibly attempted to make the Kessel run in less than 12 parsecs (and failed, apparently, because, well, bottom of the sea.)

These are important things to remember. Also, the aliens could take many forms, from this:

To this:

To this.

So keep an eye peeled. Report back on any occurrences. I’m working out a survival plan, I’ll let you know what I come up with.

We forgot our foil helmets. They’ll know our secret thoughts.

You know what we haven’t done in a while? Science time. I bet Andreas is totally sad about that. I mean, listen. I have this amazing Science Fellow, and I’m totally underutilizing him. This is a bad use of the world’s best Science Fellow.

If I want to keep my Science Fellow, I need to do some science around here once and a while.


So today, I found a whole new science site. It is called Science Daily. Science DAILY! Who doesn’t like a little science daily? Not me. Not this lady. No sirree. I like there to be science daily.

And Science Daily seems to actually be a real thing and not embarrassing! Well, that’s fun. I like real sciencey things. So I found three exciting articles for you. Let’s discuss them! Probably Andreas will want to talk to us about them, too. I would like that. THEN I have a FINAL article that’s not from Science Daily but needs to be addressed because I found it kind of fascinating.

So, I let Dumbcat pick, and Dumbcat says that we have to talk about dopamine first. I asked him if that’s because he’s a dope and then he sneezed. That’s a yes in Dumbcat-ese, I think.

So, according to this article, low dopamine makes you have rage-face.

WAIT AMY! You are saying. What is dopamine?

Dopamine is a neurotransmitter. In simple terms, it sends signals in your brain between nerve cells. When you get a reward of any kind (food, sex, drugs, praise) your dopamine levels increase. Dopamine makes you feel gooooood. Which is why people get addicted to things. Also, extroverts are proven to have more dopamine. What about people that are bipolar in their extroversion like me? I guess I only have too much dopamine on alternate Tuesdays after Labor Day. Here’s more on dopamine, if you’re so inclined.

Dopamine is also one of the chemicals responsible for all those squishy-squishy feelings when you fall in love. So, there you go, then.

Anyway, so some scientists types were doing some dopamine experiments. Their assumption was that low levels of dopamine would lead to low aggression, while high levels would lead to high aggression. HOWEVER, as sometimes happens in science (as in life) you know what they say about assumptions. HELPER MULE OUT OF YOU AND ME. And scientists.

Do you really want to make an ass out of you and me? DO YOU? Well, this guy’s already an ass, but you know what I mean.

So the scientist types put the test subjects in a room and told them to play a video game where they would do tasks to receive “money.” They were also told that in the other room was another competitor, who could cheat and STEAL their money. The test subjects could do one of three things to combat the cheater-cheater-never-beaters: they could just keep playing and earning money to offset the losses; they could “defend” against the cheaters but, in doing so, sacrifice some of their winnings, or they could “punish” the cheater. The article doesn’t say how they could punish the cheater. I want to think with waterboarding. That seems likely.

Want to hear the secret of this test? There was no cheater. The cheater was imaginary. It was the computer program taking their money away, in order to get them upset so their dopamine levels could be tested. NEFARIOUS!

The scientists THOUGHT that people who defended or punished (was it paddling? Like with one of those paddles in a frat house? YOU CAN TELL ME, SCIENTISTS!) would have more dopamine and the ones who kept their heads down and just kept playing would have less. Nope. Other way around. The people who kept playing had more. Huh. Scientists were AMAZED! I like to think of scientists being amazed and scratching their little scientist-heads.


This article doesn’t really come up with any conclusions other than “more testing needs to be done, yo.” Huh. I think we might need more information. Perhaps on the punishments used. Was it temple torture? When I was little, my dad used to do that to me. It consisted of him standing over me and flicking my temples with his thumb and forefinger. When I asked him to stop, he’d say, “What? It’s just temple torture. YOU LOVE IT.” He still thinks that’s funny. And I’m old now.

NEXT! Dumbcat says let’s talk about the aliens in Pennsylvania because he’s worried about Jim.

This article says space rocks were found in Pennsylvania which you know means aliens are there because how else would space rocks get to Pennsylvania if not from aliens? So I’m pretty sure even though Jim’s been concentrating his energy on the zombie apocalypse, instead he should concentrate on aliens. OH SHIT. I just realized that Signs was set in Pennsylvania. JIM! THERE ARE ALL THE ALIENS IN YOUR STATE, YO!

Pretend Mel “Sugartits” Gibson isn’t in this photo, it’ll be better.

Oh, wait, I actually read the article instead of skimming and there weren’t any alien rocks at all. Just REGULAR rocks. That showed proof that a meteorite or a comet or something touched down almost 13,000 years ago. Well, THAT’S disappointing. I was  hoping for aliens. I know YOU were all hoping for aliens. That movie Signs PROMISED THERE WOULD BE ALIENS. What is going ON. People don’t follow through on their promises, it’s totally disheartening.

Well, Jim, I guess you can go back to planning for the zombies now. That must be a load off. You had a whole plan and everything. I don’t know how good you’d be at changing plans mid-stream, like a little lost salmon.

The one on the far right is Jim. How do I know? I JUST DO STOP BEING NOSY.

Now let’s talk about a study that LIES. Dumbcat hates lies, especially about cat treats. He needs them at 8pm every night or HE IS SO SAD.

This study is full of lies, because it says that if you’re neurotic (I am, duh), getting more money would not make you happier.


It says that neurotics view pay raises as a failure because they think that any pay raise is not as much as they deserve.

Well, listen. I’ve worked at my current job for 6 and a half years. My average annual pay raise has been from 5 to 10 cents an hour a year. FIVE to TEN CENTS. Think about that. Five to ten cents an hour. For a year of successful work. Would that make YOU neurotic? Yep. If you had half a brain in your head, it would.

I like to save these up and buy myself a nice ice cream cone, after a few months.

Alternately: my part-time job, where I work once a week for eight hours, gives me, on average, 25 to 50 cents in raises a year. And has for the past 7 years I’ve worked there.

If it makes me NEUROTIC because I think I deserve more than a NICKEL or a DIME then, yes, sure. But mostly, do you know what a regular pay raise would make me feel?

Grateful. Because then I could quit my part-time job; I wouldn’t have to watch my money as closely; I could maybe buy things I need and not put that off week after week after week.

Not neurotic, SCIENTISTS. Grateful. Not neurotic. If you’re getting a teeny pay raise, then OBVIOUSLY it’s not what you deserve. No one deserves a nickel. NO ONE.

I’m a neurotic and I don’t approve of this message.

Now, the article I read the other day that I thought was super-interesting. Dumbcat says we might as well talk about this now since it’s all that’s left. I was writing something, and researching the way the heart works, and the way the brain works, and how the brain processes emotions related to falling in love with someone. (Not something for here, something else. Something non-bloggy.) I came across this in my research.

Apparently, this scientist in New York did a study about what makes people fall in love. Check this out:

New York psychologist, Professor Arthur Arun, has been studying the dynamics of what happens when people fall in love. He has shown that the simple act of staring into each other’s eyes has a powerful impact.

He asked two complete strangers to reveal to each other intimate details about their lives. This carried on for an hour and a half. The two strangers were then made to stare into each others eyes without talking for four minutes. Afterwards many of his couples confessed to feeling deeply attracted to their opposite number and two of his subjects even married afterwards.

OK. Two complete strangers were forced to SIT CLOSE TOGETHER and TELL EACH OTHER SECRETS and then HAVE A STARING CONTEST FOR FOUR MINUTES. And instead of running from the room screaming, they fell in love?


(I’d like the statistic of how many of them were psycho-murdered by the other person, because they told them TOO MUCH PERSONAL INFORMATION. Dad’ll tell you. You DO NOT tell STRANGERS your PERSONAL INFORMATION. Even if a scientist tells you that’s the experiment. Dad wouldn’t trust the scientists, by the way. He’d say they were working for the government. He already thinks Andreas is a spy, I mean, come on.)

No, in all seriousness, this is interesting, right? Two of his people got MARRIED. Because of SCIENCE. I want to marry someone because of science.

OK, Andreas! Here you go! All the science for you! Aliens, dopamine, sexy staring contests and lying scientists. EXCITING! All for YOU, Andreas! Please stay my science fellow forever!

Happy Wednesday! If anyone tells me it’s Hump Day today I’m going to hump them right in the face with a box of copier paper.

Ride, captain, ride! Upon your mystery (space)ship!

I strangely find myself with way too much free time at work today and nothing to write about. I’m days ahead on the old bloggity blog here, which is good – this week’s going to kick my ass, time-wise – but I have no topics! No topics at all. What will a person talk about. Listen, I wrote THREE BLOG POSTS yesterday. THREE! That’s like seven straight hours of writing. Well, not straight. I stood up sometimes and did other things. Bought some clothes. Walked around a little. Went over and paid the rent. Spent a little time with Dumbcat. But mostly, typing until my fingers almost fell off. Whoo! 

I have some Dad conversations for you. I think you’ll enjoy. You like such things, right? Sure you do. 

Oh, some background: so Dad’s class reunion is coming up. Dad was a popular kid in high school. Or at least he’s a popular kid now. He says he wasn’t that popular in high school but he sure looks awful smiley in all the photos I’ve seen and there are a lot of lay-deez hanging around with him. He says they were not HIS lay-deez but they were hanging around with him because his brothers were popular so they thought that’s how to get in good with his brothers but I think that’s what a person says to their daughter because what are you going to say to your daughter, “I was a total stud in high school?” Ew. Brain bleach BRAIN BLEACH. 

I tried to find a picture from around when Dad was in high school. This is close to the year he graduated. WHOO! Look at these hep cats getting DOWN!

Anyway, so he’s on the reunion planning committee with a bunch of ladies and it seems he’s the only fella. I think he enjoys this because he feels like the only rooster in the henhouse. And there’s a crazy person. Well, that’s mean. I don’t know that she’s CRAZY. She’s…religious. Let’s just say she found Jesus. Because he was apparently playing hide-and-seek. And she found him! Winner! Olly-olly-oxen-free, Jesus! Oh, Jesus, you so crazy, hiding behind the gardening shed! 

This seriously made me snort-laugh. Sorry. I have a really, really juvenile sense of humor.

So this woman – she has a nickname which makes me laugh but I don’t want to use it, that’s rude, so let’s call her…um…Super Sarah, it’s close to the nickname – Super Sarah wanted everyone to know about how she found Missing Jesus. So she wrote a book about it. There seemed to also be something about aliens in it. And spaceships. And how she was a FALLEN WOMAN but Jesus forgave her trampery. 

But no one wanted to read the book. Super Sarah was sad! So she took the list of names and addresses of all the people she graduated with and mailed them all a copy. As you do. 

Well, Dad didn’t like that. Dad didn’t like that AT ALL. (This all happened a couple of months ago. These are two different conversations. I don’t want to confuse anyone.) 

Dad: Remember I told you Super Sarah tried to give me that Missing Jesus book at the planning committee meeting but I was like, I don’t think he’s missing, so I told her I didn’t want it?
Me: Yes. I still think you should have taken it, I want to read about the aliens. I think I could have written an excellent review of that on my blog. Like, Where’s Waldo for the religious types. Only, with aliens. And also Jesus.

Oh, you knew someone already did this, right? A two-second Google search found me this.

Dad: She mailed me a copy this week.
Me: What? In your really real mailbox? How’d she get your address?
Dad: She told the woman in charge of the mailing list she needed it for reunion purposes. But that was a LIE. She needed it for MISSING JESUS BOOK PURPOSES.
Me: I am SO EXCITED. You mail that to me right now. I’ll reimburse you for the postage.
Dad: No. Can’t.
Me: Can’t? Why?
Dad: I wrote “unwanted solicitation” and “illegal use of the U.S. Postal Service” on the envelope and mailed it back. Did you know you don’t even have to pay for mail if you do that? It’s FREE.
Me: You DID? First, BOO, Dad, I WANTED that, and second, HA! I hope the Postal Cops arrest her for sending Jesus through the mail.
Dad: Nah. They won’t. Your Uncle G. read it. He said it reads like she went off her medication.

(Note: my “Uncle G.” isn’t my uncle, but my cousin. But he’s the same age as my uncles, so when we were kids, we were encouraged to call him Uncle G. and it’s kind of stuck. I sometimes call him G. now, which he encourages, and it sounds weird to me because I grew up calling him Uncle G. I also have an Uncle R. who isn’t my uncle but my Dad’s best friend. It’s an Amy’s-family thing, I don’t know.)

Me: I AM SO MAD I DON’T GET TO READ IT. Will Uncle G. send me his copy?
Dad: No. I don’t want you making fun of Jesus on the internet, even if he is in a spaceship.
Me: FINE. You’re totally a joykiller right now.
Dad: If you go to hell for making fun of Missing Spaceship Jesus I’m going to be really sad.
Me: I know. I know. It would be a sad turn of events if you come to find out Super Sarah was on the right track and Jesus was totally a missing alien, like E.T., and the loaves and fishes were really Reese’s Pieces.

E.T. would like you to know he does not approve of this message. He would NEVER make fun of Missing Spaceship Jesus.

Dad: You’re totally going to hell for saying the loaves and fishes are Reese’s Pieces.
Me: I’m going to hell for so many other things than that. That’s just delicious peanut-butter-flavored icing on the burny hellcake, Dad.

So this past weekend, Dad had a reunion party. It wasn’t the REUNION, but a PARTY for the reunion. The reunion’s in July. These people have a LOT of events. I can’t even imagine wanting to hang out with the assholes I graduated with once, let alone a gajillion times. But this party was for everyone who’s ever graduated from his school, and then in July there’s the actual reunion. It’s exhausting just thinking about it. I wonder if, as you age, it’s like “any excuse for a party because most of us are dead anyway?” (I’m KIDDING. They’re only SOME of them dead. Not at ALL mostly.)

Me: So how was the party?
Dad: Fine. Your Uncle G. was the hit of the party. He talked to everyone, even if he didn’t know them.
Me: He’s pretty friendly, that one.
Dad: He made Super Sarah cry.
Me: He DID? Why? Did he tell her the Jesus Spaceship crashed?
Dad: He told her I hated her because she sent me that book, and she started CRYING and WAILING and saying “I CAN’T BELIEVE HE SENT IT BACK TO ME” and then ran to the bathroom. I don’t hate her, I just didn’t want that stupid weird Missing Spaceship Jesus book.


Me: Ha! What did you do?
Dad: Oh, I don’t know. I wasn’t there. It was in another part of the room. G. told me about it. I didn’t see any of it. She stayed right away from me. I think because I don’t believe in Jesus Spaceships. So I’m probably a heathen.
Me: What did Mom think?
Dad: Your mother said, “that woman was always a drama queen” and rolled her eyes.
Me: Good call. Also, you’re probably already pretty emotional if you’ve got one eye on the sky for Missing Jesus in a Spaceship. It wouldn’t take much to tip you over the edge.
Dad: No, probably not.
Me: I’m still really mad you didn’t keep that book and mail it to me.
Dad: I think someone said she has a website.
Me: WHAT? I LIVE ON THE INTERNET. What’s the website. What’s her last name?
Dad: I’m not telling you because you’ll make fun of it on your blog.
Me: Of course I will. Anyone would.

PS – I totally just found her website using a combination of her first name, the town where she went to high school, and the word “Jesus.” That’s worrisome. She was the FIRST RESULT, too. Wow. She’s really got a niche market. 

I won’t link to it, because that’s really over the top mean. It’s not her fault she believes in Missing Spaceship Jesus. But I have to put in the book cover. Listen, I HAVE to. It’s – it’s got dolls on it, you guys. DOLLS. With DEAD DEAD EYES. And one was in a FIRE, or possibly needs a BATH.

The “pretty” doll in the mirror has a wonky eye. Couldn’t Missing Spaceship Jesus fix that? That’s kind of rude of him.

Also, per Dad, she was the salutatorian, but her online biography says she barely graduated high school because she couldn’t read. So that kind of means that either there were only two people in the graduating class (there weren’t) or she was REALLY GOOD AT PULLING THE WOOL OVER PEOPLE’S EYES. Or she’s a liar. 

And also, on her website, it shows that she seems to go around doing talks about Missing Spaceship Jesus? And she puts on SKITS. Using PROPS. And COSTUMES. One of which is her dressed like ONE OF THE DOLLS ON HER BOOK COVER. And laughing with her mouth really wide open while wearing crazy-person-on-the-subway-who-doesn’t-know-how-to-color-within-the-lines lipstick. This is just horrifying. And also kind of hysterical. 

I wonder if anyone I went to high school with became a crazy? Well, MORE of a crazy? I’m not going to the reunion to find that out, but it’s an interesting idea that never crossed my mind. 

Also, Dad has NEW TECHNOLOGY NEWS for us! We all like technology so I thought I’d share. 

Dad: You can cancel your Facebook now.
Me: I can? I always could, probably. That option is available to me. Why now, though?
Dad: You don’t need it anymore. There’s a new Facebook. It was on the news.
Me: Oh? What’s the new Facebook?
Dad: Google Plus Something.
 Me: It’s not Plus anything. It’s actually Minus something. Members.
Dad: What? You’ve HEARD of it? But it’s brand new!
Me: No, it came out last summer or something, I think. I’ve been on it for a while.
Dad: No, it was on the news!
Me: Well, that’s good, Dad, but I assure you it’s been around for about a year. Maybe it was telling you it’s been around for a year and people should sign up because it COULD be the next Facebook, were anyone to sign up for it.
Dad: It said it’s better than Facebook! Because it’s from Google!
Me: It’s not bad. But no one’s on it. It’s like someone telling you, “stop going to the most popular nightclub in town, this one’s better!” and you show up, and it’s nice, and it’s shiny, and it has good music and drinks and stuff, but there’s no one there. You’ll eventually go back to the first nightclub because you’re bored out of your mind and there’s no one to talk to but the bartender.
Dad: There’s music and drinks?
Me: No. It was an analogy I just made up just now. It wasn’t very good. If I’d had notice, I could have done better.
Dad: Why did the news tell me it was better than Facebook if it’s not? I don’t understand.
Me: I think the people at Google are very sad their master plan didn’t work out. They do so well with so many other things. I imagine the Google people very perplexed about the failure of Google Plus to take off. Also, it’s all very subjective. It MIGHT be better than Facebook, if people were to join it. There’s no one to talk to right now.
Dad: I feel tricked. I got an email from Google telling me I should sign up for it the other day. I should reply and give them a piece of my mind for lying to me on the news.
Me: You could. But I don’t think they’d care, Dad. Also, it’s not a lie. It’s an OPINION.
Me: OK. Well, then feel free to email Google and take them to task for giving you their opinion about the superiority of their social media platform.

Man, Google Images is winning today. PENGUIN COMPLAINTS!

Me: Were you even going to sign up? You don’t even have a Facebook account. You hate Facebook.
Dad: No, of course I wasn’t. Those places are where the government spies track you.
Me: This is really all a moot point, then, isn’t it?
Me: OK, Dad. OK. No lying on the news. Wait, was this on Fox News?
Dad: What other news do I watch?
Me: Oh, yes, then I can see how you’d get upset about a lie being on Fox News. You write that letter. Can’t have lies being on Fox News. 

There’s the latest in Amy’s Dad-land. Much DRAMA! 

Don’t forget – you have about 36 hours to comment on this post in order to enter the drawing for a box of as-yet-undetermined awesomeness! 

And…for today’s Bloggiversary celebration…your THIRD MOST POPULAR POST! This post is one of MY favorites, too. Because it was a group effort, and we all coordinated and laughed and had the best time and it was a whole WEEK of awesomeness and people STILL find my blog be searching for “Sneaky Fuckerism.” I love that you’re all still reading this. (Caution, little kiddos who might be reading, there’s a LOT of cussing in that post. But it is sciency cussing.)

I’m a Lover, Not a Fighter, and I’m Really Built for Speed 

Happy Thursday! Look how the week is almost over. I have rehearsal tonight. Then I’m going to go home and schlump on the couch all exhausted-like. WHAT A WEEK WHOO!

I want to marry a turtle. When can I marry a turtle?

I’ve been majorly slacky. I totally fell into an internet black hole tonight. Like, I had this whole PLAN of writing this POST then vegging on the COUCH with POPSICLES and then I was all, “I haven’t read my people’s blogs today and commented” and “I haven’t replied to MY comments” and TWITTER IS SHINY and oooh, this video oooh that video and the next thing you know hours have passed and nothing is written. And there is my Saturday night, ladies and gentlemen: cat videos and Tumblr posts and chatting on Twitter. I’ll be here all week, tip your waiters.

(Please note that there were no cat videos. Not that I’m anti-cat videos, but tonight it was actually the Neil Gaiman graduation speech? So then I watched that and cried and cried. It was that awesome. Oh, you want to watch it? FINE. It’s awesome, you should watch it. It’s twenty minutes long, so be prepared, but if you are involved in the arts in any way at all, it’s just brilliant. Also, don’t even blame me if you cry. I totally warned you.)

OK, I’m in kind of a weird mood tonight. So, what goes good with weird moods? WEIRD NEWS. Don’t even tell me that I don’t know how to theme my blog with my moods, I can do that like a BOSS, yo.

So we have penguins, alien conspiracies, and asshole hipsters. What do you want first? What? You don’t care? FINE. I asked Dumbcat. That’s what you get when you aren’t decisive. I had him choose by writing the names of the possibilities on paper and then taunting him with the paper and whatever one he angrily bit first with his gigantic saberteeth was the winner. You know, if they chose Academy Award winners like this, the show would be a lot more watchable. Who do I talk to about this?

Dumbcat says (via his angry teeth) that we should talk about alien conspiracies first. Who am I to argue with Dumbcat?

OK, so, this is totally worrisome, I’m not going to lie. You should probably all start making those tinfoil hats now.

Aw, look at my Joaquin before he became a looney! I love him so much!

A woman was walking on the beach in California. She saw pretty beach rocks! And, as you do, she picked them up and put them in her pocket. She then went home and started making dinner.


“The woman tried to stop, drop and roll but was unsuccessful in getting the flames out, Stone said.

“Her husband also tried to help and got second-degree burns when he tried to pull the shorts off, Stone said. The rocks, described as small, the size of a hamburger patty, smooth and orange and green in color, fell from the shorts onto the floor and continued to burn the wood floor and fill the house with smoke.”


Then – get this, get THIS! – “‘I talked to the paramedic who treated her, and in his 27 years in responding to calls near the beach, he’s never seen this,’ (Orange County Fire Authority Captain Mark) Stone told the Register. ‘The rocks were still smoking when firefighters took them to the hospital.'”

Well, you know what those are, right? ALIEN SPACE ROCKS. I mean, there can’t be any other explanation, can there? SPACE ROCKS. Sent here from ALIENS to KILL US with SPONTANEOUS SHORTS-FLAMING.

These are the actual alien space rocks. They even LOOK suspicious, don’t they? Like they’re trying to PASS as beach rocks, but failing miserably? Like a 30-year-old narc in a high school, or something?

Also, one of the rocks was the size of a hamburger patty? But you were still carrying it around? I would have taken it out of my pocket when I got home, a burger-rock like that, right? Suspicious. It’s like that rock was controlling her with MIND BULLETS.

Also, I think I know who’s in on this. Captain Mark STONE. Rocks. STONE. Coincidence? I DON’T THINK SO. He’s hiding in PLAIN SIGHT. This is bad, you guys. Oh, this is SO SO BAD.

Oh, wait, the article goes on to say the rocks were for some reason coated in phosphorus and that’s why they spontaneously combusted. But honestly, we know better, don’t we? I mean, it’s not like rocks just coat THEMSELVES with phosphorus. ALIEN SPACE ROCKS. DEATH AND DESTRUCTION.

Now, the last two paragraphs are very telling:

“San Onofre State Beach is in San Diego County near Camp Pendleton, a Marine base. A military spokesman told the AP that the base is trying to determine whether military material might have contaminated the area.

“‘There is phosphorous that naturally occurs on the sand at the beach, but no one has ever heard of pants catching fire,’ Stone told the Register.

So, ALIEN SPACE ROCKS or maybe MILITARY TESTING. These are both equally distressing and signs of end times. Also, “no one has ever heard of pants catching fire”? I know who has. Liars. Liars have totally heard of pants catching fire. So who’s the liar here? Obviously not the aliens. They’re keeping mum. Probably not the burn-victim lady or her family. I’m blaming the military. WHAT ARE YOU HIDING MILITARY. I’m on to you! You can NOT hide from me. I am TOTALLY the MOST DETECTIVEY.

OK. Next, Dumbcat says talk about hipster assholes. OK, Dumbcat. OK.

This morning, Ken, (wait, this transition makes it look like I’m calling Ken a hipster asshole, keep reading, that is not what’s happening here) who is bon vivanting it up in Texas (this works much better with my circadian rhythms, Ken, you can stay here forever as far as I’m concerned, ok? I like that you’re awake roughly the same hours that I am, so I don’t wake up and I’ve missed ALL THE GOOD THINGS) was watching some good ol’ Merkan television with his breakfast. As you do. Which led to this:

So (I mean, after I was all, “KEN BACK AWAY SLOWLY FROM THE TV”) you know when I got home I had to look this up. Sometimes I like to see if there’s any truth behind what’s on Fox News. It’s a game I play with myself called “truth? half-truth? slight grain of truth? Or completely out of left field like the time Bill O’Reilly said that same-sex marriage was the next step before people could legally marry turtles?”

What, you think I’m making that up? Nope. (For the love of Pete, don’t watch this whole thing. The turtle talk starts at 3:08. Start watching maybe at 3:00 and turn it off once the Stepford twins and Shouty McIll-Informed stop talking about terrapin matrimony. Anything more than that, you’re risking permanent brain damage.)

And, well, what do you know, old Fair and Balanced was more truthier than normal today.

Apparently, organic food kind of turns people into assholes. Who knew?

According to this article, people that eat organic food tend to be less apt to help others who need it and more judgey of people. This is supposedly because they feel they’ve already done their good deed for the day so they don’t need to do any MORE good deeds so they can go around and be all judgey-judgey and “what the HELL you eat TWINKIES I would NEVER put that GARBAGE in my PRECIOUS PIEHOLE” and still feel good about themselves.

“Organic” also means “Snooty McSnoot Snoot,” I guess. Huh.

I liken this to the douchecanoes who are all, “I don’t even OWN a TV” or the asshats who are all “Huh, The Hunger Games? I don’t know about that, I only read LITERATURE” or the toolbags who are all “Ugh, you still SMOKE? That’s so REPULSIVE, I quit YEARS ago using a combination of hypnosis and ostrich semen.”


Also, I get organic food, I totally do, I appreciate the idea behind organic food, but as a poor person, I can’t afford it. So I get the poor person vegetables that are all coated in poison or whatever. I haven’t died yet. I mean, I suppose I might. We all do, eventually. But I don’t think it’s because of poison vegetables. And now I don’t want to eat them even MORE because who wants MORE of a reason to be an asshole? I sometimes am a total asshole, I have to admit. If I ate these vegetables, what if I was a constant asshole? No thanks, organic vegetables.

Finally: let’s talk penguins. Dumbcat says it’s ok if we talk about it now. Thanks, Dumbcat. Much appreciated.

Why the hell didn’t you people tell me about Penguin 337? I’m very disappointed in all of you.

So, Penguin 337 (too young to know the sex! so only has a number!) is a wee Humboldt penguin who escaped from the Tokyo aquarium in March.

This is what a Humboldt penguin looks like. Cute, right? Stylish!

Want to know how? Here:

“…scaled a rock wall 13 feet high and squeezed through a barbed wire fence to escape its harborside aquarium in March.”

WHAT? Why didn’t you people think I would be interested in this escape artist penguin? This is AMAZING! A 13-foot wall? A barbed-wire FENCE? This is one rebellious little penguin! I think I love him the most of all the penguins!

So a couple of days ago, Penguin 337 was seen FROLICKING all FREE and HAPPY in Tokyo Bay! He or she isn’t even skinny or injured! He or she is JOYOUS and LOVES LIFE SO MUCH!

Look, here’s Penguin 337! Frolicking! He or she is the Free Willy of penguins!

And listen, when they asked the director of the Tokyo Sea Life Park why they thought little Penguin 337 escaped, what did he say?

“Sakamoto attributed its flight to a sense of adventure.”

All hanging out! Having a good time! Being a free spirit!

A sense of ADVENTURE, you guys! This is the best penguin ever. This penguin has WHIMSY and DERRING-DO and CHUTZPAH. I LOVE this penguin. He or she and I would be the BEST of friends. With the adventuring and the bon viva…wait. WAIT. This penguin is TOTALLY the penguin version of Ken the World-Traveling Bon Vivant. ZOMG YOU GUYS. Think of the adventure Ken and Penguin 337 could have TOGETHER. I think we’ve found our next installment of Ken, the World Traveling Bon Vivant (with a jaunty hat.) I’m not saying I’m WRITING that anytime soon. You do realize those things take me DAYS, right? Right. But just think about how awesome it will be, when I actually DO write it. I’m kind of bopping around on the couch at the moment, you have no idea.

Goodbye from Penguin 337! You will be hearing from him or her soon, when he or she has an ADVENTURE with Ken, the World Traveling Bon Vivant!

(Ken wants to know if Penguin 337 drinks tea. WAIT AND SEE, KEN.)

OK. I have to go to bed. Because it’s late, and Saturday Night Live is NOT HOLDING MY ATTENTION. I know! It’s totally disappointing. Although Twitter’s keeping me entertained. Thank you for being the best, Twitter. I love you more than pudding.

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