The Most Importantest Holiday

Basically, Happy Halloween! As you read this post, I’m on my way to visit Ursula in Slovenia. As you may or may not know, I believe that is very important to spend each and every holiday with my Sun-Goddess. Never is it more important than on this most important of important holidays. I know what you’re thinking, what I am going to be for Halloween? Because you basically want to be the same thing because of your intense admiration for me, trust me, I know what you’re thinking because I have had such a profound influence in shaping your mind. If you were to guess that I am going to be Sir Don Bradman like I have each of the past four years, you’re basically wrong. In honour of the World’s greatest musicians to basically ever musicate on the planet, Ursula and I are dressing up as our mutual favourite group: Milli Vanilli.

Ursula is the Fab to my Rob. We basically met at a Halloween party two years ago, as we were basically dancing independently on opposite sides of the dance floor. As you obviously recall from earlier in this post, I was dressed up as Sir Don Bradman (yes, THE Sir Don Bradman). I knew it was meant to be when we locked eyes across the dance floor and I noticed that she was dressed up as Rachael Heyhoe-Flint, obviously the greatest female cricket player of all time. The song that was playing was “Girl You Know It’s True” by, you guessed it, Milli Vanilli. As you may or may not know from your previous readings, our rock-solid relationship is built on a love of three things: saving the Earth, Zima, and Milli Vanilli. With the recent bad news about Zima, all we’ve got left is Earth and Milli Vanilli. So this Halloween, as we continue to wait patiently for another Milli Vanilli album to be released to the World, we will honour Rob and Fab’s contributions to the musicscape of our Earth and this year, when that special song comes on, I may just have a special question for Ursula.

The Tzar

Greetings loyal readers,


Today, I shall basically impress upon you the importance of learning from ones wiser than you. Although basically this means me, there is one other who is a font of great wisdom: Tzar Pickfit.


Tzar Pickfit is a high-caliber ornithologists. If you meet a high-caliber ornithologists, you may not feel comfortable meeting with him intimately due to the overly large brain ratio between someone like him (and me) compared to someone like you, but he may or may not benefit you or cause you to think thoughts you may not previously have thought that you would think about. It is possible that such a meeting may in fact benefit you, and I am merely explaining this to you, since you may or may not have known this on your own. Even though your own work is probably without merit, you have much to learn from those who are wiser than you.


Tzar Pickfit is coming to my place of work, and I am making this post so that we all are able to coordinate the scheduling for his visit and schedule face-to-face time for intimate meetings. You see, we do not want to offend or anger him with our disorganization, so we must create a schedule, and laminate aforementioned schedule for maximal efficitude.


Involving the times of the signing up, there are, 6, blocks of time, a block being defined as a time slot in which the meeting between you and Pick may proceed. There are 5 slots between the blocks, slots defined as spaces that are not the blocks. This will all be available on the laminated brochure that I made with the laminating machine. The blocks start at 9:00, 10:00, 11:01, 12:29, 1:59 and 2:30. The slots start at 9:45, 10:35, 11:45, 1:30, 2:01, and 3:00. I propose eliminating the 12:29 block so Pick may dine, and eliminating the 2:01 slot, because a 2-minute-meeting is a short meeting, but, verily, a good amount of time for which to microwave leftover drumsticks. Please write me if none of this makes any sense. Confused yet?


You probably are confused, and so I have hired Juanita’s friend, Mitzi, to help with scheduling, laminating, and implement the protocols that drive the scheduling. We will see, Mitzi, if you can handle this important task.

El Pollo Gigante

Basically, the despondency associated with my recent disappointing experience with Zima has led my interventionist to suggest that I focus my efforts on some of my other passions. As you may or may not recall that I’ve mentioned before at various points in time, I have a special love of chicken drumsticks. Due to the overwhelming fear that chicken drumsticks may suffer the same unimaginable fate as my beloved Zima, I have began a conquest to find the world’s largest chicken drumsticks such that I may preserve them for posterity in advance of such an inconceivable demise. Obviously, saving the Earth and the HEWO are my top priorities which is why I’ve basically ordered Mateo and Rogelio to continue my field work while Juanita continues to deal with any press related to my recent feather discovery and the dedication of my statue.

Monstrosity

As you undoubtedly may or may not recall from my earlier post, other scientists that are in awe of my amazing biological skills and knowledge saw fit to honour my achievements with a statue. Well, it is with mixed feelings that I announce the completion of the aforementioned shrine to my undeniable superiority. Basically, I commanded Rogelio to supervise this aforementioned important undertaking to ensure that it does justice to my commitment to the cradle of life that we call my beloved Earth. Obviously, it would be very difficult, nay impossible, for any mortal being to capture this aforementioned dedication in a mere work of art. Despite me being among the most modest people on the planet, I’m sure you can imagine the anticipation with which I have awaited being immortalized as the greatest living biologist. Well, here’s the statue.


ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!?!?!!! What in the hell is this?!? Needless to say, I feel betrayed, deceived, and let down by this pitiful excuse for an immortalization. All I see is a freaky looking naked dude with a bunch of babies! Rogelio assures me that this disgusting piece of filth is meant to represent my strength and virility while displaying me balancing humanity against its own senseless destruction. I guess it’s hard to argue with that. Nonetheless, the nudity troubles me; it looks like I’m being attacked by naked babies! I think it may take more than $30,000 to properly secure my legacy. In the meantime, I think I’ll use the hired help to make sure that my statue remains unfettered by the tyranny of dirt and grime. If I’m standing naked in the park punting a baby, at least I’ll be clean while I’m doing it.

I Answer to No One

So basically, I’ve been receiving a lot of fan mail from you, my loyal followers, about where I’ve been lately. While I understand that my absence has basically left you directionless and possibly contemplating suicide, I must rectify the point that my first priority is towards singlehandedly saving the Earth from man’s evil mandible claw of doom. To this end, I answer to no one and make no apologies. In the spirit of full disclosure, and since it was my idea to tell you about it anyway, I’ll tell you where I was, why I was there, and what I was up to. Basically, as you’ve undoubtedly memorized from my earlier flawless and inspirational posts, I singlehandedly discovered one of the rarest feathers on the face of my precious planet. After receiving the good news that the aforementioned feather was without doubt that of the rare and majestic Helmeted Woodpecker, I sent photographs of said feather with the confirmation from the aforementioned museum to various news outlets to spread the good news of my excellent biological field skills. Although I basically abhor publicity of any type that may basically distract others away from my amazing commitment to singlehandedly saving this planet and instead focus on my amazing skills or intellect, I knew immediately that this discovery was far too important to basically go unnoticed. After sending the aforementioned photographic depictions and museum confirmation, I ordered Mateo to contact all of the major news organizations in the world and inform them of my press conference where I would unveil this important discovery in person. Well basically, the only news outlet to show up to my press conference was Diario Popular! Are you freaking kidding me?!? Not even Diario Noticias?!? No English-speaking journalists?!? And do you know what that son of a bitch from Diario Popular had the nerve to say to me?!? He said “es de paloma, idiota” which I took to mean “thank you for saving this magnificent bird from extinction.” However, Mateo later informed me that he said this was, get this, a pigeon feather! Are you freaking kidding me?!? Needless to say, I had to prove this man wrong, so I took the aforementioned biological specimen to one of the foremost biological research laboratories in the world for further analysis. Because it was clear that I had to do this in complete secrecy, I chose to cut all contact with the outside world while I was analyzing the sample at the Slovenian Ornithological Feather Association (SOFA) headquarters, which is obviously the highest caliber ornithological feather association in the world. After two months of careful analysis, I have confirmed that I was in fact right to begin with. The HEWO lives. I think I’ll crack open another Zima to celebrate my reiteration of the aforementioned unquestionable discovery.

Immortalizing the Nectar of the Gods and WGBs

Basically, as most of you basically know by now, the greatest liquid to ever exist and the only beverage to be endorsed by the WGB has been officially removed from the market. Are you F@#$ing kidding me??!! I simply don’t think people understand the role ZIMA has played in my life and how vital it is to completing my mission here on Mother Earth. Unfortunately, the damage has been done and I have, therefore, been forced to seek counseling to deal with this unforeseen issue. Without the tear-filled intervention Mateo and Rogelio lured me into, I would not have been able to continue my attempt to free our environment from the kung fu grip of humanity. So, following the suggestions of my intervention coach, I feel it is my duty to immortalize ZIMAs greatness and in addition, bring some closure to this situation in my life. In addition to cryogenically freezing 24 bottles in hopes that future generations may once again enjoy the bubbly, sugary deliciousness that is ZIMA, I propose to add ZIMA as the 0th element in the Periodic Table of the Elements. Many people may be upset by this suggestion, due to the fact that ZIMA’s physical composition is like no other element, but in my opinion, that is all the more reason to add it. I am able to touch, taste, and enjoy ZIMA. I’ve never seen any of the other elements in real life, so who gives a crap about them. For those who feel that my desire to add ZIMA as an element lacks merit let me ask you this; what element brings joy to hundreds of people? How many elements quench your thirst at the end of a long, full body massage? The answer . . . none!!



Therefore, the time to act is now! We need to join forces; we few, we happy few, we band of ZIMA lovers! In the meantime, I’ll be investigating some alternatives just in case my ZIMA supply runs out.

Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

MILWAUKEE (AP) - MillerCoors LLC says goodbye to Zima.

The joint venture between SABMiller's U.S. unit and Molson Coors Brewing Co. told distributors in a letter Monday that production of the malt liquor beverage was discontinued as of Oct. 10.

Chief Marketing Officer Andy England says the decision was due to weakness in the "malternative" segment and declining consumer interest.

He says distributors can get remaining Zima inventories most likely through December.

Distributors are being asked to put products from caffeinated alcoholic beverage Sparks on retail store shelves to make up for Zima's absence. The brand came to the joint venture from Molson Coors, maker of Coors Light and Keystone.


This basically can't be happening!! What am I supposed to drink now? Declining consumer interest in malternatives? I bascially cannot believe that they would do something like this.

As you may or may not know, they employ fine small-batch craftsmanship at the presumably very small South African/Miller/Coors/Molson Brewery. The aforementioned brewery brews the Zima with such care, I can only assume their reason for terminating aforementioned beverage is due to the fact that some sort of earth-hating evildoers are out to destroy my personal earthsavingness by cutting off my personal Zima supply.

I will have to experiment with other beverages to slake my extreme thirst. Rogelio suggested I make a Clamato-chocolate-walnut-margarita-eggnog-milkshake. That one sounds intriguing. Mateo suggested a watermelon-bourbon-toothpaste-orange juice-potato puree-root beer float. Basically, that strikes me as somewhat less good.

This may cause me to sink into a deep depression; It feels just like when Crystal Pepsi left us.

Basically, I think my best plan of attack is to basically pawn my remaining electronic devices not needed to talk to Ursula (i.e., not the phone, laptop, camera phone, desktop, satellite phone, webcam, or videoconferencing studio) and attempt to stockpile as much Zima as is possible.



There is lots of room at work, I'm sure my colleagues won't mind if I stack some cases under their desks. I will put my name on it so they have no reason to take it. I may have to rent a truck for this, but my research funds should basically cover that. And of course, my technicians and colleagues will have to pick up the slack while I am gone on this errand, but basically, you have to have priorities.

So-called "review" of my, as you may or may not know, perfect work

So, as you may or may not know, my place of work basically likes to have sessions where we "review" each other's manuscripts and presentations. What a waste of time when I could basically be talking to/travelling towards/visiting/publicly groping Ursula. I guess "review" is their way to basically set up a plausible scenario for being able to absorb my vast intellect. I mean, really, why do they want ME, studliest of all people, to stand up there and have to pretend that I care what they say, when obviously my presentations and articles are superior to anything they could possibly dream of creating. Basically. Here are a few examples, i. e., one time they told me that my figure caption was basically the biggest figure caption they have ever seen in their entire life. Even though aformentioned figure caption was pre-approved by my supervisor. So there. Or that my poster was too packed with information! Basically, they are just jealous that they are not able to add that much information to their posters. And they basically objected to my presentation referring to "asses". I use asses to pack my gear into my site, and when Ursula comes down, sometimes we play ass polo. They basically thought that asses could be miscontrued as something else! What I want to know, is who had a problem with my use of "asses"? Who?!

It's a waste of my time and intellect to sit there and listen to my worthless coworkers try to wreck my perfection with their so-called improvements. Then they think they should be "acknowleged" just because they spent half a day reading my paper and suggesting things like "oh, maybe your paper shouldn't include a graph of how long you spent driving to your field site" or "oh, that graph of the variation in mm with SEs, and box-plots and histograms and bell curves and t-tests showing that there was no significant difference in inner-diameter circumference of the bird bands we used is not very useful". Basically, I'll probably just acknowledge Juan, because he rented me this ass.

It's Official

Basically, I just wanted to update you, my loyal protégés, on the status of the aforementioned feather. After applying my patented feather microscopy protocol, I was able to confirm that the aforementioned structure was in fact a feather. Further, it is basically undeniably a Helmeted Woodpecker feather. As you may recall from your previous readings, I sent this feather to a museum (that will remain unnamed to basically protect the aforementioned feather from theft or acts of vandalism) in order to have lesser scientists confirm my discovery. I basically received electronic-mail confirmation that they received the HEWO feather and I will paste it below for all to see with my name basically removed to protect myself from various lesser biologists and assorted groupies that may seek me out for my profound insights and knowledge:

“We received the feather. Columba livia”

Obviously, I’m not sure what the second part of the message refers to but it basically appears to be some other language, probably saying something to the effect of “Yes, of course you are correct, it is a Helmeted Woodpecker feather.” Of course, this is great news and validates my feather transect protocol while repudiating the unmeritous approaches of past biologists. Now we will basically move into Phase II of the Feather Super-Protocol (which basically encompasses the sub-protocols related to feathers including but not limited to the aforementioned feather transect and feather microscopy protocols). Sub-phase I of Phase II of the Feather Super-Protocol basically involves implementation of the feather videography protocol (obviously referring to a sub-protocol given the lack of capitalization). Given that the aforementioned videography protocol has two sub-options (alpha and beta), I am basically going to use the more expensive digital option (F.I.ii.b) in which I will obtain higher-quality imagery. Basically, this protocol involves installing sixteen digital video cameras at the sight of feather discovery (the hot zone) in case the aforementioned woodpecker returns to retrieve its feather. It’s only a matter of time before I capture images of the Helmeted Woodpecker, confirming its existence, and thus completing my task of single-handedly saving this magnificent creature from the evil death-grip of civilization.

Discovery

It is basically with great pride yet unquestionable humility that I announce the indubitable discovery of a Helmeted Woodpecker feather. Basically, I am in the process of scientifically analyzing the aforementioned feather to confirm its authenticity and I will keep you, my loyal followers, informed about this most important breakthrough. Other “scientists” had the gall to question my use of a feather transect protocol as a way to study the HEWO, but who’s laughing now? They suggested that I look for the actual birds which would have obviously been a waste of time. As you may or may not know, I believe in full disclosure so I should basically inform you that Mateo is the one who picked up the aforementioned feather and brought it to me, but it took my great biological skills to identify the keratinized structure as a feather. I basically went through great efforts not to contaminate this feather and, after applying my own feather microscopy protocol, I will send it to a museum so that lesser scientists can tell me that I’m right. For now, we celebrate my achievement! Zimas for everyone!

Proper Field Attire

Basically, since through my astute powers of observation I discovered that Juanita is actually a man, I now have some new options for saving the HEWO. As you may or may not know, the field is no place for a woman. Basically, it is for this reason that I hired Juanita as a personal assistant and would never have considered sending her out into the field. Well, things basically change and a great biologist and field commander such as myself has to adapt to this changing workscape. Given the new priority of ensuring that my new statue adequately portrays my masculinity and importance, I basically decided to re-assign Rogelio to supervising the sculptor of the aforementioned statue. Therefore, I decided to send Juanita out into the field with Mateo to collect my data. Although this requires much sacrifice on my part, I am basically willing to dial my satellite phone, sharpen my protocol-writing pencils, get my own Zima, clean my loofahs, and maintain the protocol laminator myself for a few days while we await my statue, to take one for the team so to speak. Basically, for Juanita to work in the field, “her” usual attire of miniskirt and fishnet stockings are basically not going to be appropriate, so I ordered Rogelio to inform Juanita of what would be considered suitable for field conditions. Because I’m basically not awake when the technicians leave for the field in the morning, I did not see the aforementioned attire when Juanita left for the first day in the field. You can basically imagine my surprise at the end of the next day when Juanita and Mateo returned and Juanita was wearing assless chaps! Are you freaking kidding me?!? Juanita was sitting in MY swan boat wearing assless chaps?!? Mateo described this as a problem of translation between myself, Juanita, and Rogelio. Basically, I’m not so sure about this and am starting to question Rogelio’s commitment to the project. Once this statue is done, I may have to make some tough decisions.

Statue of Virility

Basically, a couple of days ago my supervisor called pretending to be checking up on me even though I, as you may or may not know, am a superior biologist and our relationship is basically just a formality in which he wants to cash in on my fame and success. One of the things I make him do is manage all of my grant money so at least he can do something useful. Well, it turns out that according to aforementioned “supervisor” I’ve got plenty of money. As you may recall from your previous readings, I work very hard and therefore basically deserve to splurge a little bit instead of just basically spending all of this grant money on my research. Part of my amazing ability to save funds is related to my superhuman efficiency, which as you know is one thing that is helping me single-handedly save the Earth. Because I haven’t had the opportunity to attend a meeting recently in which I would obviously be honoured for my achievements, I decided to use my research funds to commission a statue in my honour. I’ve basically paid a $30,000 deposit to a local Paraguayan artist for the aforementioned statue and ordered Rogelio to translate the message for the aforementioned artist to focus on my altruistic commitment to single-handedly saving the Earth, my superior intellect, my scientific awesomeness, my undeniable charisma and good looks, my superhuman virility, and my astonishing modesty given all of these gifts that I have. I basically can’t wait to see myself immortalized as a statue just as other important scientists have been.

Tensity

As you may or may not know, I’ve basically been away from my blog for a few days and realize that this was disappointing for all of you, my loyal followers. I basically found the “Juanita situation” to be a very stressful experience in which I was basically vindicated. As emotionally draining as it was to potentially basically have Ursula upset with me, to have one of my technicians question my actions, and to write a new protocol on such short notice with so much pressure because the stakes were basically so high, I found that this was a situation that even Zima and chicken drumsticks could not make better. Because I feared that this traumatic situation may jeopardize my research, it was clear that the only solution was to buy Ursula a plane ticket to fly to Paraguay. The past 4 days have basically been a groping frenzy and prior to her departure, Ursula even gave me a grope-on-a-rope as a gift to make me more comfortable with her absence. And get this, Rogelio again had the nerve to question whether buying a plane ticket for Ursula was a wise use of my research funds?!? Are you freaking kidding me?!? Doesn’t he get it??? If she didn’t fly here I would have had to fly there! It basically costs the same amount either way! I’m basically starting to become concerned with Rogelio’s belligerency and fear that he has lost his commitment to helping me single-handedly save the Earth. For now, I think I’ll try writing a new protocol for technicians to agree with everything I say and do, perhaps with a pledge of allegiance. I have no idea why I didn’t just do this in the first place.

Crisis Resolved

Get this, when I told Mateo and Rogelio that I would be departing for Slovenia in one day and that I would be gone for two weeks, Rogelio had the nerve to question my commitment to MY research?!? Are you freaking kidding me?!? I even explained the situation and how Ursula was upset, and he still acted as if this crisis was unimportant! That SOB had the nerve lecture me, as if the protocols that he and Mateo are using are his and not mine! Basically, I think he’s still just upset about the swan boat and basically jealous that he doesn’t have my skills, abilities, power, and respect. As usual, Rogelio was completely unhelpful and not understanding of the magnitude of the aforementioned situation. As he walked away, I basically heard him mumble something about an Adam’s apple, which I’m not sure what that means. Although I commanded Rogelio to expand upon his mumbled statement, he declined. Basically thankfully, I have one understudy with the appropriate reverence for my superior standing. Mateo basically explained to me that Juanita is really a man and the reason that (s)he was basically walking around on the street in town seeking employment is because (s)he is a transvestite prostitute.

Because I basically cannot afford to have another technician quit on me as Jorge did, I decided that I should talk over this new revelation with Ursula and discuss the possibility that I should remain in Paraguay to continue supervising Rogelio and Mateo so nothing goes wrong and they basically will not abandon or sabotage my important research. Obviously, Ursula felt that I should at least confirm that Juan(ita) is in fact a man rather than a post-op transsexual in which case I would basically still be prohibited from employing him/her because of my aforementioned irresistibility to members of the opposite sex (possibly including transsexuals). As you may or may not know, asking Juan(ita) would be possibly misleading so I felt that a more scientific approach was in order. After developing a transvestite-inspection protocol, I ordered Mateo and Rogelio to implement said protocol which they basically did and confirmed that Juan(ita) is actually a man. So basically, it looks like I can continue my quest to save the HEWO without immediately departing for Slovenia unless something else comes up soon which would require me to go to Slovenia rather than stay in Paraguay supervising the aforementioned project.

Crisis

So basically, after doing what I thought was a very beneficial thing toward helping me single-handedly save the Earth, I’ve discovered that I may have made a huge mistake. During a recent three-hour phone conversation with Ursula, I mentioned that I had hired a personal assistant. Initially, Ursula seemed pleased that I was one step closer to having everyone in the world take orders from me. “What’s his name?” she said, to which I replied “Basically, her name is Juanita.” Little did I know that the aforementioned conversation would descend into a jealousy enraged shouting match. Basically, Ursula pointed out the very important fact that it is physically impossible for women not to find me attractive, with which I could not disagree, and that I am therefore forbidden from hiring female workers. Because I basically thought that Ursula raised a very important point, I decided that I should leave immediately for Slovenia to apologize to Ursula in person.

Personal Assistant

Basically, I’ve made a very important decision and want to share the aforementioned decision with you, my loyal protégés. As you may recall from your previous readings and the fact that my actions and my blog are basically probably among the most important things in your life since you don’t have anything as important happening in your life certainly not as important as single-handedly saving the Earth, I currently have two “people” that serve me: Mateo and Rogelio. As you can probably imagine, it’s hard to accomplish the important tasks in which I endeavor to involve myself when my technicians are out in the field collecting my data. What do I do when I’m talking to other, yet lesser, scientists on my satellite phone and I run out of Zima? In the past, I’ve found that the pager system that I had implemented whereby Mateo or Rogelio would return to fetch my beverage have been ineffective to say the least. Similarly, when Mateo and Rogelio are excavating my Land Rover, by definition neither of them are available to shade me with a parasol as I supervise the aforementioned excavation. For these reasons, I’ve decided to hire a personal assistant to have the privilege of taking care of these tasks. Basically, I was considering giving someone this opportunity recently when I was in town buying chicken drumsticks and I happened to encounter a young lady on the street who was apparently seeking employment. Although Juanita does not speak any English, I basically showed her a few guaranies, which as you probably do not know is basically a type of money used in Paraguay, and she was willing to come with me, probably because she has heard of my amazing intellect and biological field skills. Over the past few days, I’ve basically been able to order Mateo and Rogelio to teach Juanita the valuable skills and English words that she’ll need to help me save the planet. In addition to fetching Zima, dialing my satellite phone, and holding my parasol, Juanita’s main duties include sharpening my protocol-writing pencils, maintaining the lamination machine for aforementioned protocols, washing my loofahs with successively smaller loofahs, and polishing the hand trowels.

Excavation protocols

As you may or may not know, my inept technicians basically got the land rover stuck. Therewith, we must excavate the landrover in the most effortant and speedacious manner possible. I have created a laminated schematic which details aformentioned excavatiousition protocol. It's really self explanatory. As you can see, instead of the dodecahedron, I decided to add several more facets to the shape.This way, the aformentioned excavatiousition will proceed equally on all sides of the landrover and prevent a cave-in. And let me tell you, as someone who routinely needs to dig stuff out that I've gotten stuck, basically, not to brag, but I'm pretty good at preventing cave-ins. It's just an intuitive sense I have. People have tried to tell me that this is overly complicated, but they don't know how hard you have to work to prevent cave-ins. And I definitely do. So, looking at my schematic, you want to dig along the lines east and north of the blue sides on tuesdays, thursdays, and anytime after 6 PM. But on mondays, fridays, sundays, sundays, and saturdays, you want to dig perpendicularly to the red, chartreuse and salmon-colored sectors, unless it's raining. The green section will need to be dug with the floral-patterned trowels, and only while wearing officially-sanctioned digging headwear and underpants. It's basically very easy. But I'm sure my technicans will somehow screw it up.

Cricket

Basically, the only thing that may trump my love for the Earth, my life partner Ursula, and chicken drumsticks is my love of the most amazing sport on the planet, cricket. Beyond saving the planet, phone conversations with the love of my life, and my own personal hygiene needs, the largest proportion of my day is probably basically taken up by managing my fantasy cricket team. Yes, I do have a satellite television with the cricket ticket and I like nothing more than sitting down with an ice-cold Zima and watching an innings or two of my favourite sport. Yes, my bunny Magnum’s middle name is Wicket (Magnum Wicket Greatest-Biologist) and my first bunny’s name, may he rest in peace, was Sir Don Bradman. Yes, obviously after THE Sir Don Bradman the greatest batsman ever. I’m not bragging or anything, but my aforementioned fantasy cricket team is undoubtedly the greatest ever and has the greatest bowler and the most superior nightwatchman AND nightwatchbatperson in the world! How many century scoring players do you have on your team? How many of your players have been called out by a leg-before-wicket? I rest my case.

Update dose

Rogelio was not very appreciative of my generosity. I guess he didn't like his swan boat, because he threw my Zima into a pipe that ran underneath the road. It was a very narrow pipe, but I have a very large manly body, and unfortunately, my quest for the Zima resulted in a slight trip to the ER. But the doctors basically cut the pipe off my head, and I should be back vacationing with my sun goddess working hard in the field tomorrow.

Update oohno

As you may or may not know, Rogelio was bitching about having to swim alongside my canoe, so I basically got him a watercraft of his own at a yard sale:

PDA

As you may or may not know, protecting the Earth is very important to me and, although I’m basically doing it singlehandedly, I do have the help of my Sun-Goddess, my life partner, Ursula. Obviously, Ursula means little bear which does in many ways describe Ursula’s hirsute appearance, but it also describes her fierce and strong behaviour in the sack if you know what I mean. Some people basically think that I divulge too much information about my relationship, but who wouldn’t want to hear about my amazing sexual conquests? Ursula makes me wear a ball gag, does that make you uncomfortable? My advice to you: grow up and learn to observe a healthy and normal relationship without jealousy.

Obviously, when two people are meant for each other as much as me and my sweet Sun-Goddess Ursula, some people will doubt and try to sabotage our love. As you may or may not know, some people have used the word “codependent” to describe our relationship. Is it wrong that I talk to Ursula on my satellite phone for three hours every day? Do the math, that’s only one-sixth of a day! And my research grant pays for it anyway. Since Ursula lives in Slovenia, we only see each other once a month and, during each rendezvous, we have to basically fit in enough public groping, cuddling, and necking to make up for the three-week groping deficit. Obviously, I’ve lived on our beloved Earth for over three decades, but Ursula’s very presence causes me to degenerate into a hormone-enraged middle-school-style groping frenzy. People that basically don’t do the same thing clearly don’t care about each other. Basically, some people that are basically jealous of our relationship wonder how I can simultaneously save the Earth and have the time and money to fly to Slovenia once per month. As you may or may not know, a flight from Paraguay to Slovenia can cost in excess of $2000, so how can I justify charging that much money to my research project every month? And doesn’t the excessive fuel consumption of the airline industry contribute to the senseless destruction of our planet? Those are stupid questions. You should basically know that, in order to both save money and save Earth, I actually pick up aluminum cans along the way, cash those in for money and help clean Earth’s beautiful land and waterways. Sure this takes longer, but I give Mateo and Rogelio plenty of work to do while I’m gone and it’s no small price to pay for saving the Earth. You're welcome.

Mud

My studs and studettes, I have bad news. My personal 2-wheel drive land rover has basically succumbed to the quicksand, at least for now. Let me regale you with news of its passing, which, as you may or may not know, involves the incompetent parade of nitwits that pass for my technicians.

I was basically out driving across my neighbor's farm field with my land rover. I know my land rover does not save the earth as much as walking or taking my $12,000 canoe, but I had a mighty thirst for Zima that day, and we simply could not carry the Zima and field supplies and my emergency duffel of loofahs (for when I get mud on my face). So we set out for the field in the dead of night. We have to travel in the dead of night because I promised my neighbors I wouldn't tear up their farm fields. Ha! I don't think they've caught on yet. (It's been really windy though, and rocks keep falling from the cliff and breaking the windows of my land rover. Rogelio suggested the neighbors might not like me driving through their only patch of land that they use for their subsistence farming, and perhaps are throwing rocks at my two-wheel-drive land rover while I am not looking. However, not to brag or anything, but I have a B.S. in rockology, and I know that sometimes rocks fall from the cliff by my house.) But I digress. So we tore through the neighbor's pathetic little farm, when we got to a muddy spot. I made Mateo take off all his clothes and lay them in front of the land rover so that the tires didn't get dirty, and we drove across that one. But then there was another muddy spot that came up. Mateo suggested we turn around because it looked deep, but he's a pansy little girl like that. I said just to gun it and cranked up the Milli Vanilli and rocked out in the passenger seat. He must have gunned it wrong though, because we suddenly found ourselves in 5 feet of mud and sinking. Stupid Mateo, it was all his fault, that's the last time I let him drive. You can imagine my horror, because the land rover was basically incredibly muddy and relatively underwater. I am sure we will dig it out though, I have diverted my technicians to spend the next week digging for the land rover. I got them new hand trowels so that they do not scratch the land rover by digging too much at once, and have designed a special protocol, which directs the digging perpendicularly around the lines of a dodecahedron. It is sure to work.

Shambles

Basically, as I have returned from my aforementioned trip to Slovenia, I have now had time to assess the damage done by my “technicians.” While it is true that the aforementioned hired help collected more data than when I was present and no one died, they had the nerve to change my protocols! How dare they question my supreme knowledge and superior intuition?!? So basically, we might not collect as much “data” when I’m around, but it is important that what we do collect is done using MY protocols. As an important scientist, I feel it is my duty to impart my wisdom on these lesser biologists and correct their “efficient” methods. Get this, when I basically attempted to help these minions, Rogelio dared to question why I would leave the country for five weeks during the middle of my field season!?! That‘s what Mateo and Rogelio are here for!

Basically, I don’t need to explain myself but I basically will just so you understand where I’m coming from. Because of the pressures and responsibility associated with single-handedly saving the Earth, I have to be apart from my Sun-goddess, Ursula, for often weeks at a time. Ursula, who as you know from your previous readings lives in Slovenia, is without a doubt my life partner and soul mate, my Sun-goddess, and the only person able to understand and relate to my brilliance. Although we share many things in common, I believe our indestructible bond is related to our mutual love of three things: saving the Earth, Zima, and late 80’s pop sensation Milli Vanilli. In fact, our yearly five-week hiatus always revolves around the annual European Milli Vanilli Tribute Festival that occurs in late May of each year. Is that during my field season? Yes. But we all need to have priorities.

On the labeling of equipment I could otherwise be using

I am basically amazed at the greediness of humankind, particularly the kind of humans who call themselves my co-workers. They have the gall to basically label their possessions and then expect them to basically sit unused in a box while I am out in the field working without aforementioned possessions. Clearly, these people do not understand the value of saving the earth. They get mad at me for no basically reason when I basically borrow said possessions. These people need to get over it. They are not as smart as me, and don't really even deserve to be using this equipment just to conduct their research that is without merit. I'm just going to take some of this stuff, and basically put it to a better use than they could have anyways. They'll basically thank me later.

No Zima in Slovenia?

Sorry I haven't posted much. I've been in Slovenia with my goddess. And on a search for Zima. Would you believe they basically don't have Zima here? They have Zlatorog which basically starts with the right letter, but tastes all beery and is the wrong color. The other thing they don't have is loofahs. How I am supposed to wash myself without a loofah, I do not know. The nerve of some eastern Europeans. I am the WGB! Give me my aforementioned freaking loofah.


P.S. The chicken drumsticks here suck too.

My technicians better not be screwing up my project while I am away, like they basically always do. Basically, if I haven't told you yet, I've basically come to the basic conclusion that everyone but me is an idiot. Because my patented hiring process is guaranteed to select the optimum canditatorial material from my list of vast applicants who wish to be under my tutelage. But despite my interviewing skills (which others have described as "probably illegal", which highlights how awesome they are), my technicians constantly disappoint. Is it that hard? You've got an entire crew of people. Just assemble yourselves, and gather the data I need for my degree. Honestly. Just idiots.

On cleanliness

As you know, I have a canoe that’s well suited to my importance. Basically, by using my research funds to purchase a $12,000 canoe, I was accepting the fact that I am too important to have anything less. As you may or may not recall from your previous readings, I don’t let my technicians use the aforementioned canoe and I use it once per week when I’m in Paraguay and not Slovenia where, as you may or may not know, my life partner lives. One of the most important parts about having such an amazing canoe is keeping it clean. Basically, one way that I do this is by not letting mere passengers wear shoes while in my remarkable watercraft. Being of superior intellect, I am basically always captain of said watercraft and thus able to wear the appropriate footwear of my choosing. Obviously, you’re basically wondering why technicians are not allowed to don shoes in my canoe.
Well, put down what you’re doing, because I’ve got a story for you! Once upon a time on a Wednesday afternoon on a flooded river in Paraguay, the most spectacular biologist to grace this Earth was quietly canoeing through the haunts of the spectacularly important Helmeted Woodpecker and contemplating how he might go about saving this glorious creature from humanity’s cruel chokehold before it slips into the dark void of extinction. Oh yeah, he also had a technician with him. Anyhow, as they rounded a bend in the aforementioned swollen river, the intrepid biologist noticed something. “What’s that?” he said. “Que?” said the lowly technician. “Is that mud?!” alleged the Earth’s most gifted creature. “Que?” whimpered the subhuman piece of filth. After the heated exchange, and pretending not to understand English, the technician proceeded as if nothing had happened. Understandably, the noble scientist could not accept such insubordination, such vile mutiny, so he basically expunged the aforementioned technician out of the watercraft in which he clearly did not deserve to travel. The valiant biologist courageously continued on his destiny while the technician swam back to his tent. Now here’s the surprise, I’m the biologist in the story and Rogelio is the technician, and this is why I don’t let passengers wear shoes in my canoe. I’m generous to even let them ride in it! So why do I wear shoes in the canoe? Because Mateo just spent two hours giving me a pedicure and I’m not going to jeopardize the condition of my feet, are you freaking kidding me?!? Cleaning my canoe is one of the reasons that I keep technicians around anyway, they should feel privileged to even be near me.

The Greatest Holiday in the History of “Mother” Earth

Basically, as many of you may or may not know Paraguay recently celebrated the single greatest holiday in its history, Mother’s Day. This day is particularly special to me due to the fact that it was instituted in recognition of my mother alone. However, Paraguay allows everyone to celebrate it. I thought of no better way to thank my mommy for bringing me into this world than to take the entire week off as a way of saying thank you. I could think of no better gift for mommy than giving her the opportunity to spend seven consecutive days with me. Some of you may be thinking . . . the WGB said he talks to his mother twice a day, why does he need so much time off for Mother’s Day? Do you think that only celebrating the holiday one day is sufficient enough! Basically that is because I’m surrounded by idiots who wish they too developed in my mother’s womb. In addition, I feel it is important to point out that my advisor expected me to perform field work on my beloved HEWOs on this holiest of days! Are you freaking kidding me!? Obviously he doesn’t understand the significance of the bond my mother and I have. I mean she carried me around for months knowing that I would someday change the world, and he expected me to work! I’m not bragging or anything, but my birth was so significant that it made the National Inquirer! If it wasn’t for my mother producing me, where would Mother Earth be? In shambles, that’s where. I could give two craps about anyone else’s mom, simply because theirs gave birth to lesser individuals than mine. Why do you think people refer to our planet as Mother Earth? Basically it is because I dubbed it as such in honor of my mother. Soon enough people will realize the importance of Mother’s Day and will follow my lead of a 7 day celebration.

Munificence

As basically one of the most generous people ever, one of the things that I often do for lesser aspirating biologists is borrow their field equipment so that it may be used properly at least once and possibly blessed by the presence of my superior abilities. In fact, these lesser biologists often go out of their way to loan me items for their own self-serving purposes; I pretend not to notice that it’s basically for me to do them a favour and even sometimes say thank you when what I basically mean is, you’re welcome. Because the time that I can devote to my all-important task of saving Earth from humanity is limited, I basically try to make sure that these lesser biologists know how much of a favour I have done for them. Given the aforementioned generosity that I have so kindly described for you, you’ll understand my utter shock and amazement at a recent incident involving a canoe that I borrowed from one of my “colleagues.” As you may or may not know, my research on HEWOs is easily the most important project in existence and, therefore, I should have all of the resources I desire at my disposal. Well, my supervisor suggested that I let my technicians use MY canoe to prevent another incident where an incompetent technician doesn’t adequately follow our flooded-river protocol and ends up drowning. Blah blah liability blah blah right and wrong blah blah. As you may or may not know, I purchased MY canoe with research funds and, in order to have a canoe that meets my high standards, I purchased a top-of-the-line $12,000 canoe, basically a small price to pay for a watercraft that I use at least once a week. So my supervisor wanted to know why the technicians can’t use MY canoe when I’m not using it… are you freaking kidding me?!? Jorge lost his arm floaties, Mateo lost a pencil the other day, and Rogelio couldn’t even find my Zima when I had him ride Jorge’s old bike 20 km to the nearest store; I’m going to let these people use MY canoe?!? Basically, I decided to have them use a canoe that I acquired from one of my “colleagues” and, even though Mateo and Rogelio still needed it, my "colleague" said that I couldn’t keep it indefinitely!!! And, get this, to make it even better, when I returned it, he expected ME to clean it!!! Are you freaking kidding me?!? I didn’t even use it, Mateo and Rogelio did!!! Can you believe the nerve of that son of a bitch?!? Looks like I won’t be doing him any more favours.

Nectar of the Gods (and WGBs)!

As most of my lowly servants and colleagues that call themselves “biologists” know, I am basically the hardest working human on planet Earth. A typical day in the life of the WGB consists of waking up (in the morning), checking my email, calling my mother (pre and post Trix® consumption), putting on my socks, getting myself in my “HEWO zone”, telling Mateo to make sure my cell phone is charged, telling Rogelio how stunning my hair looks, and making sure people know who the WGB is and what my mission is all about! Obviously, basically, the aforementioned tasks are performed in addition to my priceless field research. So, you’re probably saying to yourself, “How is the WGB so great, and how can he simultaneously talk to his mother and save our planet?” Basically, the answer lies in my mind-boggling multi-tasking abilities. But, there is one thing that brings me up when I’m down and keeps me going day after day. I am talking about something so delicious and so awesome that the thought of it touching one’s tongue makes a mortal man weep like a school girl that didn’t get the Barbie she wanted for her birthday. Its Latin root means tasty, and its goodness is painstakingly crafted by virgin angels. Some of you may think I’m referring to beer, but that is because you are foolish and naïve! What I’m referring to is known to mortals as ZIMA! I have the honor of enjoying a Zima every evening at 7:30 pm and two on Monday nights when I watch American Idol. Basically, it is the only beverage that can keep someone as remarkable as the WGB performing the World’s most difficult tasks. Feel free to ask my “technician” Mateo how much I love Zima. He would basically mention how he asked for a sip during my pedicure and I screamed, “Are you freaking kidding me!?” before striking him with a partially eaten, genetically altered, super-sized chicken drumstick. So what if it’s 110 degrees outside, you don’t see hear me complaining under my umbrella! Bitches!! Now that I think of it, all this talk about Zima makes me crave one more than a pubescent boy craves a J.C. Penny catalog. I’m basically not bragging or anything, but saving Mother Earth from the death grip of humanity is grueling work. However, as long as I have the sweet, bubbly flavor of Zima to quench my thirst, I can perform awe-inspiring feats and single-handedly save the Earth from certain doom!

Down Time

Basically, there comes a time when even the World’s Greatest Biologist needs a break from the daily grind of delegating research tasks to the mindless minions that “work” for me. I make it a point to give my brilliant mind a rest for 5 minutes every 30 minutes during the work day and 7 minutes every 20 minutes if there is a constant stream of delegation lasting more than 3 hours which then constitutes a necessity for a 4 hour siesta approximately 3hours 10 minutes into the day, after which, as you may or may not know, I then use the aforementioned 20 minute rule but only if there is still light out and I am not on the phone with my Sun-goddess whom I would die for. I do not understand why my technicians fail to comprehend and integrate my schedule into their tiny noggins. How hard is it? I realize that the messages being generated by my superior intellect can sometimes become convoluted in the minds of those lesser individuals that do not have the wherewithal to comprehend my greatness, but I cannot help it if they are unable to understand my magnificence. It’s their loss.
So, basically, you can now understand my need for some down time. This week, after Jorge’s accident, an interrupted siesta, and an intolerable migraine caused by a heinous splinter in my right smallest finger I decided that I had been in the field too long and needed some time away. Therefore, I packed a week’s worth of field work into 2 hours and gave to my new technician, Rogelio, the honor of caring for my beloved pet bunny, Magnum, so that I can join my Sun-goddess, whom I would die for, in a romantic week (or four) long retreat to somewhere titillating (we haven’t decided where yet).
To assist Rogelio in the care of the aforementioned bunny, Magnum, I left a detailed protocol which includes directions on what to do should anything go awry during my much deserved and needed down time. I stressed in the protocol the absolute unswerving rule of supplying Magnum’s bowl with filtered water and listed the times and duration Rogelio should dangle toys in front of her so that she would get her daily exercise. Basically, Magnum has a sensitive system and any other type of water is simply unacceptable to her. In addition, I stressed to Rogelio that should the aforementioned exercise periods fail to occur and Magnum gains weight, I would fire him from the HEWO project for failure to comply with protocols. Because, basically, failure to follow a simple thing like a bunny protocol means, in short, that he would hinder my quest to save the planet.

Why question greatness?

Basically, in addition to the mortal drawbacks of the hired help, another annoyance that I must face as the world’s greatest biologist is the questioning by others who wish they held my title. This often happens when I apply for grants or submit manuscripts for publication. Basically, one of these individuals has nit-picky questions about my methods, or my proposed data analysis, or how my project will advance the “science” of the species. Ridiculous! If these so-called “reviewers” don’t recognize the expertise that has gone into my work, then it’s obvious that they shouldn’t really be in a position to judge the worth of any other scientist, and certainly not me. And there are several reasons why I should not have to justify my proposed research to anyone. First, I select only like-minded people for the privilege of collaborating with me, and so by association they must be good scientists and obviously have more merit than other biologists who rely primarily on peer-reviewed literature. And B) I would never do anything that would harm an animal or its habitat, so there is no need to conduct background research on earlier HEWO studies to see how they gathered their data. Someday, grant agencies will catch on to the fact that, basically, they can learn a lot from me once they allow me to research the topics that are important to me. Furthermore, the aforementioned research will prove highly attractive for publication, if I deign to submit my manuscripts. Basically, the scientific community would benefit greatly from both my vision for the world and the efforts of my small cadre of collaborators, if they would only let me! In the meantime, I will control my frustration and transfer those bad energies into over-simplified explanations of how my research furthers my quest to save the planet.

My Supervisor

As you may or may not know, I’m a very generous person. One of the overly nice things that I do is allow someone to pretend to be my supervisor. This aforementioned supervisor tells me things that I supposedly don’t know, acts like I don’t know more than he does, and acts as if I’m not the best biologist to ever walk the face of my beloved Earth. So basically, I talked with my supervisor yesterday and do you know what that son of a bitch had the nerve to suggest to me?!? He said since Jorge was working for me when he died, I should bury him… are you freaking kidding me?!? Well I decided to go with Mateo and my new technician, Rogelio, when they went to bury him. Despite my superior powers of observation, I couldn’t find his field notebook and, to make things worse, I got my freshly cleaned shirt covered in mud, and I couldn’t even find the arm floaties that I had generously given him to use! Basically, he either lost his field notebook in the process of drowning or didn’t even get any data, and I’m supposed to bury that son of a bitch?!? Great idea, supervisor, bury the guy that didn’t even do his job… any other bright ideas? What's next? Paying technicians for the privilege of working for me?

Can I only trust myself?

As you may recall from your previous readings, my “technician” Jorge broke his arm when he wrecked his bike taking my laundry to town. Since he basically didn’t get my laundry to town to have it professionally cleaned, I made him hand wash my garments with his good arm, so he basically redeemed himself. Just when you think you can trust someone, especially a lowly technician, they go and basically disappoint you again. As you may or may not know, Paraguay can be a very wet place and, when rainfall is above average, the resultant flooding can make my singlehanded saving of the HEWO that much more difficult. A few days ago while I was sipping on a cold bottle of Zima and getting a pedicure from one of my other technicians, Mateo, I “asked” Jorge to go out into the field and collect some data. Given the water conditions, Jorge basically wanted to know if he could use MY brand new canoe that I hadn’t used yet… Are you freaking kidding me?!? I haven’t even used it yet! How are you going to paddle with a broken arm anyway?!? Basically, what I did tell him he could take was one of the sets of arm floaties that I kindheartedly bought for each of my technicians. Well wouldn’t you know it, Jorge drowned in the river. You’ve disappointed me again Jorge, looks like I won’t serve as a reference for you after all.

Impostors

As you may or may not know, I’m very popular and well respected as a scientist. Occasionally, I’m curious about the extent of this overwhelming respect and admiration so I do a little research. Basically, I Blackle myself at least once a day and keep data files on how many hits I get, how highly I rank, etc. As you likely already know, typing the words World’s Greatest Biologist in the Blackle search page turns my profile up as third on the list, and adding quotes, “World’s Greatest Biologist”, makes me number one. So basically, my Mom was right, I am the best. However, when you complete the second aforementioned search, you’ll also find a link to a site selling the shirt pictured below. ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!? Can you believe the nerve of these people?!? Attempting to pass the title of World’s Greatest Biologist to lesser people for the price of $20.99?!?

Possibly basically one of the worst parts of this situation, other than cheapening my title, is that this shirt is 100% cotton! Incessantly tarnishing my title and the Earth’s majestic beauty for $20.99? Are you freaking kidding me?!?

Catch Phrases

As you may or may not know, most biologists would love to be in my shoes. Basically, this isn’t because my shoes are immaculately clean, which basically they are, but rather because I work on the most important research project in the world and I’ve been told that I’m among the greatest biologists to ever walk our beloved Earth. I know what you’re thinking, everyone’s Mom tells them that they’re the best, well, she does, but she’s not the only one. I basically repeat my Earth-saving mantra into the mirror at least 12 times every afternoon while I’m working on my hair and preparing to grace the HEWO with my presence and begin my field work for the day; “I’m the chosen one, others may be jealous but no one can save the Earth but me.” Basically, it should come as no surprise that others attempt to emulsify my every move. In fact, lesser biologists have caught on to some of my catch phrases and basically repeat them, occasionally in other languages, in an effort to become the World’s Greatest Biologist. Basically, I’m not bragging or anything, but, as you may or may not know, I find this aforementioned reproduction to be flattering. Sadly, this will not make you a better biologist, you’re either born with it or you’re not, but it does make you infinitely more studly. So continue to replica me aspiring biologists, but sadly for you there can be only one WGB.

A Topiary Essay on the Admonishation of Others

National and international scientific meetings provide the opportunity for other researchers to hear about my ongoing quest to save one of the world’s rarest species from the cold dark vortex of extinction. Indeed, I’m convinced that many of these other researchers wait anxiously for news of my work and the attendance at meetings in which I am scheduled to speak, typically is much higher than it would be if I was not expected to speak. I feel it is only fair that I give them their money’s worth and since, you may or may not know, presentations are generally limited to less than 15 minutes, I try to pack as much into my talk as I can. Basically, I find it useful to use lots of graphs and tables that are shown in a font size that is almost microscopic. In this way I can include mountains of data and information in a single slide. By making use of this novel technique I often have so impressed members of my audience that they cannot help but cry. It is so gratifying to watch as, eyes squinting through streaming tears, they rapturously work to absorb the staggering brilliance before them. Some simply slump, head buried in their hands, not used to showing emotion in public. I also like to use really big words in my talks – I feel it’s important that the audience knows just what kind of intellect they are dealing with. I could simply say that two birds were acting aggressively towards one another but, instead, I prefer to say that they were exhibiting agnostic behavior. I see eyebrows raised as audience members exchange glances and whisper amongst themselves – clearly they are impressed. I decide to lay another one on them when I describe the actions of one of my HEWOs – it didn’t just move from one area to another (too mundane), no, instead I tell them that it transgressed from one area to another. Again, I see eyebrows raised and audience members exchanging glances, whispering amongst themselves. I’ve got them eating out of my hands now!