Chronicle of the World's Greatest Biologist

An Ingenious Plan

2011-04-29T17:44:00.001-07:00

My selfless quest to save the Helmeted Woodpecker from certain destruction at the hands of out-of-control monkeys is progressing nicely. I realize that my previous order to kill all monkeys may have gone a bit overboard. Basically, to more-or-less narrow things down significantly, I’m proud to announce the announcement of a new and freshly laminated protocol: Procurement Of Owl-monkey Parts (POOP). Obviously, this is largely, if not entirely, based on Samuel’s description of his friend’s description of the monkey observed possibly robbing a woodpecker nest of its precious and irreplaceable contents.

For logistical reasons, I’ve placed the success of the aforementioned protocols in the soft and able hands of my technician Carl. Basically, as you may or may not recall, Carl came to this country from China and brought numerous members of his podiatrically inclined family. As you may or may not basically realize from the name of said protocol, it involves capturing and dispatching of Owl-monkeys, then basically inserting testicles, gall bladders, and other assorted valuable body parts into condoms or balloons and ingesting aforementioned condoms or balloons prior to departure for China. For those that don’t die from unfortunate intestinal blockages, the proceeds from the sale of aforementioned monkey parts will be used to fund the interview process associated with my newly laminated HERPIES protocol. An opportunity to simultaneously save the Helmeted Woodpecker and contribute to overall Earth-saving is rare, but it’s probably not surprising that I’ve thought of it.

I have HERPIES...

2011-04-20T18:25:00.000-07:00

Even though nobody has specifically asked about my new protocol for replacing my Earth-saving life partner, I’m sure that you’ve been wondering and I thought I may provide some explanation such that you may understand. The HERPIES protocol basically involves a very detailed list of suitable criteria for aforementioned personnel such that the replaced person(s) may fulfill the necessary duties in an adequate and appropriate yet worthwhile way for numerous years, potentially possibly more-or-less indefinitely. Explaining the entire protocol in detail is likely futile, as you basically likely aren’t capable of fully understanding. Nonetheless, I feel obligated to try to dumb it down for you such that you may grasp its importance. Obviously, admiring me and my brazen quest for saving Earth from man’s ungentle donkey punch of destruction is first and foremost on the aforementioned list. A second but possibly equally important qualification is that all people of eastern European descent are automatically disqualified from further consideration. The above aforementioned criteria, along with a strong preference for hirsutism, are basically the guiding principles for HERPIES, and I’m looking forward to Mitzi narrowing the sure-to-be extensive applicant pool in the not-too-distant yet close-to-immediate future. The protocol is laminated, and it’s time to begin. Wish me luck. Basically, Earth’s future hangs in the balance.

Murderous Marauding Monkeys

2011-04-14T18:56:00.000-07:00

Enough with the freaking monkey questions! Are you freaking kidding me?!? Did you not read about my historic enacting of the HERPIES protocol?!? The dead monkeys were delivered to Samuel, the local butcher. Obviously, he grinds the aforementioned primates and includes the meat as fillers for ground beef and various sausages whilst exporting various organs via Chinese smugglers.

This is important because the aforementioned monkey meat offsets the horrendous environmental impacts of the Paraguayan beef industry. Also, basically, Samuel recently informed me that the reason we’re having no luck finding Helmeted Woodpecker nests is because of monkey overpopulation. He went on to explain that he knows someone who saw a monkey raiding a woodpecker nest. Obviously, I can’t just stand by and watch these murderous marauding monkeys drive the most glorious creature on this planet to its demise. To stop these pugnacious primates, I’ve ordered all members of my crew to trap or kill every monkey they encounter such that they can be delivered to Samuel. Saving the Earth is sometimes an insalubrious job, but I’m obviously the only person qualified for the aforementioned task.

A Brief Moment of Reflection

2011-04-12T19:34:00.000-07:00

Basically, this is the last question I’ll answer about Yuri’s damned monkeys. Yes, Mateo and Rogelio hid another monkey, and no I didn’t find it for months. As you may or may not know, I don’t regularly visit the earthen huts where “the help” stay, but an anonymous report of an above-average flea infestation forced me to investigate. As I methodically worked through the hut inspection protocol, I found it hidden under an old Zima crate. This time, they had it dressed up like a woman. Are you freaking kidding me?!? Exploiting the fact that I won’t hit a woman or any creature dressed like a woman?!?

Then Rogelio uttered its name, Ursulita, and I launched into an uncontrollable rage. As I asphyxiated the creature and bludgeoned her to death with my pocket-sized abacus, I felt a strange sense of arousal and longing for companionship. It was with the death of this small primate that I also said goodbye to my months-long denial about Ursula’s ultimate betrayal. Basically, I realized it was time find a replacement such that my Earth-saving activities may again be facilitated by an unabashed admirer, hopefully one with a father capable of producing an appropriate dowry. Obviously, I ordered Mitzi to immediately form a search committee to enact the Honouring Earth by Replacing Personnel Inasmuch as Earth needs Saved protocol (HERPIES).

Blunt-force Trauma

2011-04-11T10:41:00.000-07:00

Enough questions about the damned monkeys. Yes, Mateo and Rogelio hid one of the monkeys.They trained the damned thing to use a baseball bat thinking that would deter me from getting rid of it. Are you freaking kidding me?!? Baseball?!? You’re going to insult someone that’s basically the world’s biggest cricket fan by giving this creature a baseball bat?!?

As I was beating that monkey to death with my favourite cricket bat, do you know what that monkey had the nerve to do to my bat? He freaking bit it! That bat was signed by Sir Don Bradman, basically the greatest batsman of all time, and now it’s got monkey tooth marks! So no, I don’t like monkeys anymore. You’ve ruined my life Yuri.

Musical Monkey Meat

2011-04-07T19:03:00.000-07:00

I must finally put to rest one of the most often asked questions in the great history of my chronicle. Obviously, I’m talking about the fate of the non-native musical primates foolishly gifted to me by my former fiancé’s father, Yuri. Yuri being the name of the father, not the former fiancé, whose name I basically cannot even say without experiencing spontaneous bladder leakage. Anyhow, my initial response was to order Mateo to let them loose in the rainforest. I don’t have time to waste caring for these damned monkeys, I spend nearly every waking minute saving the Earth from man’s thoughtless actions. Eventually, Mateo and Rogelio convinced me that, although not appropriate as a tribute to Milli Vanilli, these apes might have some musical value. After two days of the monkeys' musical tribute to the Monkees, I ended this ill-conceived attempt at recycling and sold the monkeys to a local butcher. It was the only logical choice and the fastest way to stop their consumption of Paraguay's precious natural resources. That is my answer to your question. Next question.

Impeccable Penmanship

2011-04-05T18:24:00.000-07:00

How do I function realizing that the value of my signature will one day be priceless? No, this is not one of the questions basically submitted by you, my loyal followers, but nonetheless is a question I was sure you’d be wondering about. My burden is basically unlike any other placed on a contemporary scientist. With great supremacy comes a prodigious encumbrance. I basically know what you’re thinking, I sound even more erudite that normal. Well let me explain such that you may understand. Realizing the future importance of my autograph caused me to do two things. First, I’ve set aside two hours per day to practice my autograph such that it is aesthetically pleasing and impossible to counterfeit. Second, I’ve hired a notary to certify all signed documents, including credit card receipts. Obviously, this notary is also an unemployed linguist who brought with him two special books; one he calls a “dictionary” and the other a “thesaurus.” I basically already know what you’re thinking, what on Earth does he do with a book of pornography and a book about dinosaurs? Basically, that’s not what these are, they’re books full of fancy words.

Lazlo has been showering me with complements since beginning employment as my senior notary, using words like “excruciating”, “abysmal”, “appalling”, “horrendous”, and “atrocious” to describe my writing. Basically, I don’t know what any of these words mean, but I’m honoured that he would use such extravagant words to describe my work. Therefore, I’ve ordered Lazlo to use his magic books to improve upon my word choice, if that’s possible, such that my signature may one day be even more valuable. Basically, I will use the proceeds from my autographs to fund my Earth saving operation. It’s the least I can do.

A quick update for my fans

2011-03-22T08:35:00.000-07:00

Basically, I know it’s been a relatively long time since my previous post, but several “issues” have prevented me from keeping you all posted on what’s been happening in the life of the WGB, one of which I feel the need to discuss. Hopefully, the number of suicides related to my lack of communication was lower than last year’s all-time high of 47 people, 2 cats, and a goat. In early December, 2010, I fell ill and, at first, assumed it was a result of my consumption of 3 ounces of locally produced, grass-fed beef. Basically, as you may or may not know, I stopped eating beef at the age of 7 because it always resulted in projectile vomiting. I decided to try beef again, however, since the price of genetically engineered, super-sized chicken drumsticks recently skyrocketed. After eating my 3 ounces of beef and downing 3 Zimas in one sitting, I immediately began shaking uncontrollably and wetting myself. After saturating 20 pairs of underwear and my favorite pair of long johns with my own urine, I was forced to visit the local “doctor” to see what was wrong. After numerous blood tests, a prostate exam, and a colonoscopy, which I am convinced I didn’t need, the “doctor” informed me that I had contracted what the locals here call “gonofacillaherpulitis.” I know, I said “Ghona-what the @#$*?” the first time I heard it too. Basically, it’s a mega-STD – a repulsive cocktail of venereal diseases, minus HIV. The “doctor” gave me a brochure describing its symptoms, the most severe of which include: explosive diarrhea, inflammation of the neck, buttocks, lips, and little toes, lactation, uncontrollable drooling, an unbearably itchy rash where one’s reproductive organs are situated, and frequent bed-wetting. I feel I need to start by saying, no, I am not as promiscuous as my contracting gonofacillaherpulitis would suggest. Yes, I have been “playing the field” a bit since Ursula ran over my heart with a steamroller, but, as the founder and president of Control de la Natalidad Internacional, I am a very strong advocate and practitioner of responsible copulatory behavior. Therefore, there is only one way I can think of that I contracted this horrible disease. You might recall the rabid owl monkey used during the HEWOdome battles (see 10/29/2009 post). Well, I decided to keep it as a pet since I despise the act of releasing domesticated animals into the wild. Basically, as I enjoyed a Zima and watched Milli Vanilli’s farewell concert on DVD one night, that no good excuse for a primate tried to steal one of my chicken drumsticks and, after I hit it in the head with my television remote, it freaked out and bit me in the neck and right buttocks before I was able to knock it out with an empty bottle of Zima and chicken leg. Basically, I assume this mauling was how I contracted the aforementioned disease. Although my health has since improved (no more swelling, lactation, or drooling), I am still forced to wear adult diapers and my technicians must take turns rubbing an environmentally friendly plant-derived lotion on my rash. I therefore ask that you all think positively and hang in there as my health continues to improve such that I can once again provide you all with updates of my life such that you may not feel the need to end yours. Basically, with love, The WGB

Somebody ask a freaking question

2010-11-29T20:45:00.000-08:00

So you know, I basically started a series where I wanted people to ask me questions and then I'd answer them. Except I'm not getting any. Questions, that is. Except from freaking Leroy Hornsnarkle the III or whatever his name is.

No really, use the comments box. Ask a question. I'll answer it. I'm smart. Obviously.

So then I'll tell you my smarts and you'll be smart.

I guess I am a stickler about one thing.

2010-11-29T19:21:00.000-08:00

I guess I should clarify that, although I think punctuation, spelling, and use of words that are actually words and not just jumbles of letters that I made up are basically totally overrated, I am a stickler about one thing" proper use of numbers in journal articles. Sometimes numbers need to be presented as numerals, and other times

they have to be written out. It's completely obvious when to use which, and when I see things like "We kidnapped 3 rival researchers", or "Thirty birds had to be destroyed" in people's writing, it's so inconsistent, I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

Here are my completely obvious and universal guidelines that are so simple that a lemur playing a tenor saxophone could follow them.

Use digits for numbers (e.g., 7,000,000,000,000,000,000 and .1) unless the number is the first word of a sentence or is used as a pronoun (e.g., at least one was killed when we ran it over), in which case the number is spelled out. Except, obviously, write out numbers one to nine unless a measurement; use numerals for numbers ≥10. Basically, for things that are obviously measurements: use numerals (6 panda bears, 8 days, 2 television sets). Non-measurements: (a) if 0–9, write out number (eight zimae); (b) if ≥10, use numeral (10 zimae). Series: (a) for a series of related numbers (≥1 numbers), with at least one number being ≥10, use all numerals (2 marked individuals, 22 marked pairs, and 8 unmarked pairs); (b) if all numbers are less than 10, good for you, they'll be easy to add up later. Numbers less than ten within a series should be written out always, without exception; (c) except within parentheses, use numerals: the equipment needed to be replaced when I dropped it in a lake (9 cell phones, 8 video cameras, 7 battery-powered massagers); (e) except also except basically when within 100 characters from the letter "q", then write out all numbers: We cut down one-hundred and eighty lineated woodpecker nest trees with a Husqvarna (Stockholm, Sweden) chainsaw.

Treat ordinal numbers using a random number table, using 3rd for odds, and third for evens.

When reviewing or editing a paper, use a nested series of random number tables, making the logic behind your recommendation of numbering rules essentially impossible to decipher.

When noting the year that events happened, use "in the year of Our Lord Nine-teen Hundred and Seventy-two."

Indicate units after each item (e.g., blood loss ranged from 3 to 10 pints) and use symbols or abbreviations (e.g., % and mllmeters) for measurement units that follow a number. Unless the number is indefinite (thousands of casualties), is a “0" (oh) or “1” (won) standing alone, or is the first word in a sentence. In such cases spell out the number and unit name or recast the sentence. Avoid using introductory phrases (e.g. one day I had to take a dump real bad …).

Spell out ordinal numbers (e.g., first, two-hundred seventieth) in text and Literature Cited, but use digits for cases such as 38-fold and 3-way.

Convert fractions (99/1343, 13321/8463465543, etc.) to decimals except where fractions look more impressive.

Write out all summations and factorials. Show every step, using a number 2 pencil, and scan it in as a figure. Write out the figure number.

When reporting on numbers generated by a computer, use binary.

Report band numbers of birds originally banded in Italy using roman numerals.

Hyphenate number-unit phrases used as adjectives (e.g., 2-m^2 prison cells and 5-yr-old hookers) but not those used as predicate adjectives (e.g., prison cells were 2 m^2, hookers were 5yr old).

When doing fieldwork in a large field, communicate numbers using sephamore flags.

Insert commas in numbers ≥1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 or when pricing garments in Europe.

Do not insert a comma or hyphen between consecutive, separate numbers in a phrase (33-1/3 3-m^3 plots).

Do not use naked decimals (i.e., use 0.05, not .05), this is a family journal. When identifying items by number, use lowercase for names (e.g., 1 bob, 2 ed, 3 shirley).

Use scientific notation in tables to save space (e.g., 1.0 x 10^1).

POGOSTICK!!

2010-11-22T15:48:00.000-08:00

Dear readers,

I have found the wave of the future. Have you ever been corrected by someone whose like, that sentence doesnt have a verb! or like dont start a sentence with a comma?!?@! Me too, I hate that. Thusly, I basically have decided to basically start basically my own jrounal. I’ve decided to dispnse with copy-editing entirely. Which makes things alot cheaper. Because it’s cheaper its for sure better. In this nou digital age, we must press forward, and leave the conventi ns of print behind us. The future is now. I present, my new table of contents for my peer-reviewed un-copy-edited Paraguayan Ornithological Gournal Of Stuff That Is Curently Known (POGOSTICK). Additionally, I found it completely unnecessary to employ English speakers, because they are more expensive than is needed for such menial work.

Link to full size cover:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/56209971@N05/5200039826/

My New Office

2010-09-10T08:15:00.000-07:00

Basically, let me start off by apologizing for not posting updates about my life more frequently. As you all may or may not know, being such a prestigious biologist requires devotion and hard work, which unfortunately, means I must neglect all of you, my loyal minions, from time to time. But, now that I have completed my fieldwork for the year, I shall be posting more frequently.

Basically, this past field season was a complete success. Although my post-capture mortality rate was the same as previous years, HEWOs that had rocket backpack transmitters affixed to them dispersed significantly further than those without rocket transmitters, further supporting their usefulness. In addition, I developed a new method for collecting vegetation data (along with a painstakingly detailed series of protocols outlining its implementation). Basically, I decided that, rather than waste my time collecting data in the heat and humidity of the forest with a bunch of foul smelling technicians, I would bring the vegetation back to my field house where I could collect data in a more comfortable atmosphere. This method work beautifully. How many times have you collected vegetation data while sipping a Zima and eating chicken wings? Exactly!

In other news, upon returning from the field I realized my office was completely unbecoming of a biologist of my stature and decided to send video of my decrepit working conditions to “Extreme Office Makeover: Paraguay Edition.” Not surprisingly, I was selected to have my office made over and after several weeks of alterations, arguments with the construction workers, and several million dollars in additional funding from my grants, I had the office of my dreams.

I even found a bit of money to buy my technicians some office space so they’d stop complaining about the bugs outside and start entering and analyzing some freaking data.

Unfortunately, with improved working conditions comes increased life expectancy and I could not tolerate paying the same technicians for more than one field season, so I had to fire some (a.k.a., trading them to the locals for access to their lands). Before they left they handed me a list of things they "hate" about me. Are you freakin’ kidding me?! After letting them work for me, they felt the need to tell me what they don't like? Basically, as I've always said, when I want their opinion I'll give it to them. Obviously, they are either jealous of my intellectual greatness or are too ignorant to understand that Mother Nature is the most important thing to me, not the their happiness. Basically, the list read something like this:

Top Ten Things We Hate About You

10) Your hair
9) Your unhealthy obsession with chicken wings
8) Your bunions
7) Your belief that we should pay you for allowing us to work with you
6) The only room with air-conditioning being used as a giant cooler for your Zima
5) Your total disregard for the safety of your technicians
4) Your tendency to break or otherwise damage everything you borrow
3) Your blog
2) The 167 protocols you make us memorize
1) “Basically”

Reader Question 2

2010-05-06T13:57:00.000-07:00

Leroy Bartholomew Brackworth IV from Boca Raton, FL, writes:

"I, like you, stocked up on Zima prior to it being discontinued. However, I am on my last case and don't know what alcoholic beverage to switch to. Any suggestions?"

There is no replacement for Zima. To suggest a replacement is heresy. Nevertheless, I will answer your aforementioned question as you obviously basically obviously need something to drink.

I like a colorful drink, like pink or lavender. I like the ones with umbrellas especially. I like it served on a lace doily. I make Lola bleach the doilies every week.

Also I like beer. Especially the green and blue ones.

Somebody else ask a question. Somebody with a normaler name.

Reader Question 1

2010-05-02T09:36:00.000-07:00

Leroy Bartholomew Brackworth IV from [didn't give his freaking town, list your town people] writes:

"I have been following your blog since its creation consider you a scientific god. I have thought for several months now that there is no greater honor I can bestow upon you than to get a tattoo in your honor. What do you think I should get?"

Well Leroy, you are correct that I am basically a scientific god. However, since the statue incident, I'm hesitant to recommend that anyone depict me in any way, it just can't live up to the real thing. Why don't you get yourself something cool? Now, as you may or may not know, a lot of people who get tattoos are trying to look tough and will suggest you get a skull or an anchor or a dragon or a dragon eating a skull and carrying an anchor. But I say get something that you like that represents you. That's what I did with my tattoo. People tried to get me to conform to societal standards of manliness and such, but when you're a stud like me, you do your own thing.

The internet must be broken...

2010-04-28T12:38:00.000-07:00

What the.... it's been like 60 seconds and I still haven't received your questions. Get a move on people, I know there must be tens of thousands of you following my blog on a daily basis. Don't be shy, ask a question!

ASK The World's Greatest Biologist!

2010-04-28T12:34:00.000-07:00

Loyal readers,

It's time for a new feature here at the COTWGB. You see, lately, my brain has been overflowing with good ideas and advice, because I basically know how to do everything. And I figured it was high time that I shared some of that abundance of smartness with you lesser peoples.

So, like that one guy who types with boxing gloves on his hands, I am now soliciting questions that I will answer on my blog. Email your question to worldsgreatestbiologist@gmail.com, or just type it in the comments box at the end of this post.

If your question is picked, you'll receive..uh..well, you'll receive my opinion. There's really no greater gift than that, is there?

A Potentially Groundbreaking Technique

2010-02-25T14:30:00.000-08:00

Basically, as you may or may not know, I recently attended the annual Paraguayan Ornithological Organization of Paraguay (P.O.O.P.) conference to present a component of my research titled “A Potentially Groundbreaking Technique That Could Potentially Revolutionize the Attachment of Radio Transmitters to Avian Organisms Such That We Can Further Our Understanding of Their Movements, Habitat Utilization, Mortality Rates, and Interactions With Other Organisms in Large and Small Bums.” For those of you who may or may not know, “bums” simply refer to the sizes of forest patches in Paraguay. My results basically discuss the effectiveness of a novel, self-designed transmitter technique that will undoubtedly transform the field of Ornithology and should result in reduced HEWO mortality.

Basically, as many people know, my beautiful HEWOs experienced exceptionally high levels of post-capture mortality (98.3%) following my attaching radio transmitters to them the “old fashioned” way. My “knowledgeable” advisor informed me that these mortalities were to be expected and I should continue attaching transmitters to as many HEWOs as possible. Unfortunately, the number of HEWOs able to be captured was basically reduced by my need to document what I termed “In-the-hand behavior.” This basically means that following capture, I held the bird for ≥ 4.5 hours to assess their reaction to being, what some have termed, manhandled. However, this, in my opinion, is one of the most important and innovative investigations to ever be undertaken, as most self-proclaimed researchers simply take measurements and release a bird without ever documenting how they react to long periods of stress associated with handling and video documenting. After several field seasons, however, my HEWOs continued to suffer unimaginable mortality rates. My advisor kept encouraging me that I needed be persistent and suggested I carry on with the original technique, but I felt that it was simply his attempt to sabotage my otherwise flawless career. So, in response to his ridiculous demands, I developed several new attachment techniques which called for transmitters to be tied/glued/stapled/taped to various parts of HEWOs such that I could determine which worked best. Basically, I was able to narrow down my options to 2 techniques that resulted in the fewest mortalities: the helmet attachment and the bill attachment. Some people suggested these to be even riskier than former techniques, yet no one has attempted to design a new method in years, which is basically, in my opinion, inexcusable, and the papers published explaining the use of these old techniques obviously lack merit.

My results indicated that these attachments worked much better than former ones, as the birds lived several days longer than with old attachment methods and the transmitters were easier to attach since there aren’t as many feathers to deal with. However, I basically continued to face a confounding issue with my post-release dispersal investigation. Basically, I believed this was potentially due to the birds flopping around on the ground following release, making them more prone to depredation. Unfortunately, I have always left the area immediately after releasing birds, such that they weren't disturbed further, so their fates remained unknown until my technicians tried to track them 4 weeks later. So, my testing of a new rocket backpack transmitter that provided my HEWOs with the extra “boost” they needed to take off after release showed that their post-capture dispersal was significantly greater than previously documented, further supporting my belief that old methods are ineffective. Therefore, I suggest this method be employed further by all "researchers" using radio transmitters to track movements, as I have proven its effectiveness at achieving statistically significant results.

Skewed sex ratio

2010-02-21T19:30:00.000-08:00

As you may or may not know, many of my field assistants are basically male. While this basically provides a greater likelihood of them being stronger, smarter, and not wanting to stop and buy high heels, it does not necessarily mean they will achieve any level of competency, and moreover, makes it far less likely that I will want to look at their disgusting bodies. Therefore, I have decided that the next round of technicians will be female. Furthermore, an equal ratio of males and females is harmonious and equitable and earth-loving, and makes me seem not prejudiced.

With the above in mind, I considered various techniques to attract some lovely ladies to assist me. I posted my announcement for technicians to various biological jobs boards with statements requiring breasts, and requiring the attachment of head shots and full body shots in a bikini, but perplexingly, found no takers. Well, no female takers - actually one heavyset guy named Chad sent me a picture of something, but I'm trying to purge those images from my memory.

I asked Mitzi how to go about finding the right type of women for me, and luckily for me she had some inside info. Must be because she's a woman. Not that good-looking of a woman, but she is able to file and collate adequately, somedays. Anyway, she said the first thing I need to attract my kind of woman is the right outfit. I am a very fashionable guy, but I am known for being very open to a little good advice, and so I thought this little number she found did show off my studliness:

Then Mitzi directed me to the part of town where all the good-looking women hang out. Man, she was right, I had them coming right up to the vehicle asking if I needed anything done or if I was looking for any new girls! They seem so willing to work, that's the kind of attitude I like.

So I got three of them and brought them back to the field station - Lola, Candy, and Gina. I have to say, they are going to improve the scenery around here. Lola said she knew Juanita, which I found a bit odd... Anyway, we'll see how this works out, they seem very willing to work.

My time is valuable

2010-01-24T10:31:00.000-08:00

I lead a very busy life, and it's frequently complicated by people who bother me demanding my time. It's quite understandable, because who wouldn't want to be the recipient of my glorious knowledge and ability?

Lately this guy has been bugging me to finish my part of a paper we started in 1982. My office has sort of accumulated a minor backlog. I'm going to get to it, probably next week.

He had a start on this paper, but once I saw how feebly he was writing it, I decided I better jump in, take over and fix it. It's based off some data from a mist-netting project I led during migration on the coast of Venezuela. The working title is "Horrifically unacceptable mortalities at a banding station: do some birds just have weak necks?".

Anyway lately he has been pitching a fit because I haven't finished my portion of the manuscript. He's as bad as that lady who would never stop complaining because I forgot to feed her cats when she went on sabbatical. I was going to feed her cats the next week, they should have been fine. It's her fault for not leaving them 12 months of food.

Anyway, the reason that manuscript and other priorities will be undoubtedly accomplished next week and not today is due to my demanding schedule. Basically lately I have been quite involved with laying in my hammock and watching cricket. As you may or may not know, my technicians have been involved in an historical reenactment of the 1996 world cup cricket season, which culminated in an historic victory by Sri Lanka.

It is sort of cutting into the time I have to work on that one guy's mortality manuscript, and other important things like field work, getting sloshed on zima, and admiring myself in the mirror, but it's really quite captivating. And really, it's important to have interests in life. I wish other people would take my advice and learn to stop, relax, and smell the roses, rather than being obsessed about a little thing like a manuscript that is 27 years overdue or a house full of dead cats.

Moronical Musical Monkeys

2009-10-31T19:13:00.000-07:00

As much as it pains me to do so, I must basically reject Ursula’s father’s dowry such that I can move on with my life and my mission of saving the Earth. As you may or may not recall from my previous post, the original and basically laughable dowry offered by Ursula’s father, Yuri, consisted of an old dishwasher, blue bowling ball, a bunch of coconuts, and an angry cat. Obviously, this does not recognize my greatness, so I accepted this feeble offering and requested additional gifts to be given in accordance with my dowry supplementation protocol (DSP) such that I could basically accept it. As you may or may not know, my favourite musical act of all time is Milli Vanilli, and I’m also quite fond of monkeys. Basically, my DSP included acquiring a band of native Paraguayan monkeys that, with assorted yet appropriate instruments, attempt to replicate the greatness of Rob and Fab such that I may enjoy the aforementioned sounds whilst saving the Earth and/or receiving foot massages. I thought this would basically be a small thing to ask since he’s a renowned collector of the World’s rarest monkeys.

Do you have any idea what that ignorant son of a goat herder gave me? A band on primates that play Milli Vanilli’s soothing sounds and infectious grooves yet are not native to Paraguay!!! The costumes don’t fool me Yuri, I’m a freaking biologist!

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!? What nerve. Milli Vanilli doesn’t even have acoustic instruments or a saxophone player! So needless to say, obviously, the deal is off. Good riddance Ursula, and I want that owl-monkey-testicle-laden ring back for the next lucky lady that might actually be committed to helping me singlehandedly save the Earth.

Welcome to HEWOdome

2009-10-29T17:18:00.000-07:00

Basically, as my loyal followers you can all understand the time commitment that is field research! So basically, let me start by stating the obvious, the final round of technician testing has already been completed! I would have updated my blog immediately following the HEWOdome battles, but I became swamped with responsibility. Also, as you may or may not know, the weather was awfully wet and I was forced to delay the “HEWOdome” battles for several weeks due to an issue I had with the original location of the dome. Basically, my original battlefield was swept away by a landslide caused by the explosion of some ordinance that was dropped from a Mig fighter during the all-terrain race. Apparently, a local villager found a missile half buried in the mud near his hut and didn’t tell anyone about it! What an idiot! Well, Carl just happened to be cruising around some muddy fields near this villagers house trying to get a good cell phone signal with the XF3 satellite dish on my Hummer when he basically ran over what he thought was a sleeping/dead/drunk/incapacitated cow. To Carl’s astonishment, it was a bomb. Basically, he came running home and told me about it, but I figured that if it was on this villager’s property then it wasn’t my problem, so I went about my business. Basically, two hours later I hear a boom and a rumble and the next thing I know, the side of the mountain is sliding over my newly constructed arena of death. ARE YOU FREAKIN KIDDING ME!?! So, basically, obviously, I had but one choice . . . build another even better arena of death! The problem was that the best spot other than the one I already had was over an old local cemetery. So, I had to do some more bargaining with the locals and explain to them the situation and how important it was for me to have the “HEWOdome” where I wanted it. I made sure to explain to them how much extra work I would have to do if they didn’t appease me and how inconvenient it would be for me to build the dome somewhere else. I think they eventually grew tired of me talking to them and they settled for a rickshaw with one wheel, my broken A/C unit, and my Martha Stewart Self-Bunionator.

I know what you’re thinking, but I was basically comfortable parting with my Self-Bunionator because I now have Wang et al. to massage my feet. So, I put all of my technicians to work building the “HEWOdome” and had Mitzi order the weaponry. I must say, this was the only time everything went according to plan. The dome was completed in 2 days and Mitzi ordered some very exciting weapons. I also allowed groups to bring 3 weapons of their choosing to make things a bit more challenging and exciting. Basically, the weapons Mitzi bought included a mace, a ballista, a blunderbuss, leg-hold traps, a panzerfaust, a tazer with hooks, an atlatl, a lightsaber, and a rabid owl monkey with a blunderbuss.

The group weapon selection was as follows:
Chinese: Lead-based paint, chopsticks, fortune cookies
Japanese: Samurai sword, Sumo tighty-whities, a camcorder with fannypack
Russians: AK-47, vodka-based Molotov cocktails, a portrait of Vladimir Putin
Mongolians: Recurved bows, fur hats, dried fish

Obviously, basically, this was the bloodiest battle to ever grace Paraguay. The battle began immediately after I gathered all of the potential technicians in the HEWOdome and I was comfortably seated in my elevated, air-conditioned, viewing platform with a Zima in one hand and a genetically modified Zima-basted chicken leg in the other. I can write all day about the ten hour battle royale, but I have a life outside of my research! So, I’ll give you the best highlights I can.
The Chinese and Mongolians seemed particularly aggressive toward one another. The Chinese were throwing cans of lead-based paint at the Mongolians while the Mongols were shooting the Chinese with arrows, which I must say they are very accurate with. There were several Chinese left and they began trying to build some sort of long wall between them and the Mongols, but the Russians, in an attempt to fight off the Japanese, released the rabid owl monkey with its blunderbuss.

Unfortunately for the Chinese, the monkey was insanely accurate with the blunderbuss and wiped them out before they could finish the wall. The Russians, realizing the threat the rabid creature posed to them, bludgeoned it to death with their Putin portrait and then set it on fire with a Molotov cocktail. While the Russians were busy trying to kill the rabid primate, the Japanese were running around in their sumo undies pulling out their camcorders and video-taping themselves destroying the Mongols with samurai swords and tazers. The Mongols did not go lightly though, as they were basically firing the ballista all over the place, destroying most of the dome and several nearby villages. Unfortunately, there was so much smoke that no one could see. We began hearing these horrible screams and explosions coming from what was left of my HEWOdome. Panzerfaust rounds, dried fish, leg-hold traps, and Mongolian yaks were flying everywhere. When the dust settled the only person left standing was Ivanov, a Russian vagabond. In fact, there was no one else even in the dome. It was an awe-inspiring moment, as I realized then that I potentially had one of the greatest HEWO technicians ever created. This period of joy was short lived however, because as I was preparing to present Ivanov with his HEWOdome trophy, a beam from the dome fell down and basically decapitated him like a turkey. Basically, as you could imagine, I was upset for a short while that I was unable to secure such a premium technician, but then I recalled the pleasure of witnessing the battles and was quickly back to sipping Zimas and eating chicken.

Basically, I will be postponing any further technician competitions, as there will be a hiatus in my fieldwork due to my teaching a class at the University of Paraguay. I plan on keeping all of you updated on my professorial progress as I attempt to basically teach a "band of apes" how to pull our precious Earth from the brink of certain destruction. Basically, keep it real my minions. . .

Publishing hassles

2009-10-23T10:52:00.000-07:00

Basically, publishing is such a hassle. You have to deal with a plethora of weak-minded fools who fail to appreciate your brilliance, and are such a stickler for supposed "conventions" that people typically follow when they publish, like using citations or reading other papers. Recently I have been trying to get my work into a very high-profile journal (Woodpeckers at some Paraguayan sites [WASPS]) but have been burdened with constant unnecessary red tape that stands in my way.

For example, everyone at WASPS is such a stickler for citations on statements verifying such and such has been published and where such and such got published. Can't they just realize I know what I'm talking about? Last week I wrote a great paper on the woodpeckers that pound on my house when I try to nap that I was going to send to Ornithologica Paraguayae, but before I could save it, the power went off. I cited it in the WASPS paper anyway. I wrote it, and it had some totally good stuff in there, so I just wrote it up as a citation. I can't be bothered to make sure all of my publications are "real". I can see how that is necessary for lesser biologists who may not be smart enough to think for themselves, but I shouldn't really need facts to backup my statements, they're just obviously correct because I know what I'm talking about. Citations are so worthless. That goes for THE Citations too, man they annoy me.

In fact, why should I be forced to read lesser papers? Why do I even need to cite other people's work, it's basically pointless when I already know everything. I abhor reading, and when someone sends me an email, I generally don't read it. What could they possibly have to tell me that I don't already know? Besides, reading is boring and tiring, if you really want to communicate something to me, you should just send me a picture. So why on earth would I read some crap that somebody else wrote? When I write a paper, I generally, to supplement the citations of real and hypothetical papers that I have written/may have written/will never write/could write if I cared, just skim the titles of papers that others have written, and include those if they seem potentially relevant. That's basically good enough to appease the so called "citation police". After all, reading other people's work is just a waste of time when you're the kind of person who has been immortalized with a statue.

I figured the networks would catch on to me

2009-07-24T13:57:00.000-07:00

Did any of you loyal followers basically see Conan last night? He was basically doing his impression of the statue that was created to worship me.

Granted, the statue was baby-kicking, and that is basically weird.

But the point is, that, as I have predicted on many an occasion, I am becoming famous.

Road to the HEWOdome

2009-05-08T13:22:00.000-07:00

Basically, to update everyone, the technician testing is finally underway! The intensive written exam given to all of my potential technicians was, sadly, uneventful, as they all basically failed miserably. This means one of two things; either they are all legally retarded and simply couldn’t understand the questions, or they knew nothing about my publications or my beloved HEWO! ARE YOU FREAKIN KIDDING ME?!? So, I had to develop a new test to eliminate at least some of the technicians that weren’t weeded out by the written exam. Basically, I consulted Ursula and she recommended a new test known as HEWO roulette. To make a short story shorter, HEWO roulette, based loosely on a popular Russian children’s game, effectively eliminated 20% of the potential technicians. Unfortunately for the Japanese, Mongolians, and Chinese, the Russians seemed to be very effective at not getting eliminated playing HEWO roulette, resulting in a disproportionately high number of Russians remaining.

Basically, the next portion of the testing, the PENIS identification program, was also a failure. What I didn’t realize was that most of these immigrants have never even heard of an optometrist, let alone been to one. So basically, they all have horribly insufficient eyesight for HEWO searching; two Mongolians and one Chinese immigrant actually only have one eye! ARE YOU FREAKIN KIDDING ME!?! Anyways, I couldn’t understand what they were saying when they did seem to try and identify a species, due to the language barrier and all. So, I threw out the PENIS program exam and let everyone move on to the next phase of the technician testing; the 72 hour all-terrain race.

As you may or may not know, I allowed each group of potential technicians to use their respective field vehicle to find cases of ZIMA stashed throughout the jungle. This was, up to this point, the most visually exciting portion of the test. The Russians used their Cold War-era Mig Fighter jets, like the ones seen in one of the most awe-inspiring movies of all time, “Top Gun”! The Chinese used their rickshaws, the Japanese used their street racers, and the Mongolians used their yaks.

Basically, the terrain and the denseness of the jungle favored the mobility of the Mongolian yaks more than any other “vehicles”. The Japanese had a particularly difficult time maneuvering through the winding gravel roads and wrecked most of their street racers as a result. The Chinese also had problems with their rickshaws, in that they couldn’t pull them up the steep inclines of the mountains where the ZIMA was stashed. The Russians basically had some serious problems with their Mig Fighter jets. Things got a little out of hand when one of the Russians accidentally dropped some old ordinance on a local village sanctuary. But, I was able to make a peace offering by giving the village elders a headlight from a Japanese street car and the tail of a yak. Basically, I got the impression that the Russians never examined their jets before taking off, as one lost both wheels on takeoff, one’s wing fell off when it gained some altitude, and another dropped both engines as soon as they fired the jets up. As you may or may not know, these Mig pieces of crap are the reason the Russians lost the Cold War and are definitely unfit for intensive HEWO searches. Basically, the final tally for ZIMA cases collected was as follows: Mongolians, 4; Japanese, 1; Chinese, ½; Russians, 0.

Due to inclement weather and the disabling of my central AC unit by a wheel that fell off of one of the Migs, I’ve been forced to postpone the “HEWOdome” for a few days. Basically, this gave me the opportunity to have both my Ursula and my mother flown in to attend the “HEWOdome” technician battles. So, as your esteemed leader, I ask your patience as we all wait for the final technician showdown in the “HEWOdome”. Basically, just do what I plan on doing while waiting for the weather to clear; sip a Zima, eat some Zima-battered chicken legs, have a suite of Chinese migrants massage your feet, and read the most influential book to grace my bookshelf since “Charlotte’s Web”, “Saving the Earth as a Career.”

Let The Games Begin

2009-04-27T15:35:00.000-07:00

Basically, as you may or may not know, I recently informed you, my loyal fans, of my “adventures” involving everything from Orientals to equipment purchases. Well, I have basically been placed in a very stressful situation with Mitzi’s “accidental” purchase of not only Wang et al., but of a suite of other potential technicians including Russians, Japanese, and Mongolians! ARE YOU FREAKIN KIDDING ME?!? If Mitzi wasn’t so skilled at organizing paperwork that I can’t be bothered with, she surely wouldn’t be breathing the same air as I am! So, basically I am now forced to develop a protocol for weeding out the weak technicians so only the strong will serve as my minions. After thinking long and hard about what can be done and asking Ursula what type of protocol I should develop to deal with this outrageous situation, I developed the “HEWOdome” technician test. Obviously, basically the most physically and mentally challenging potential HEWO technician interview process ever devised! Basically, to answer the question I know you all are thinking, yes, the “HEWOdome” technician test is loosely based on the 1985 hit movie titled “Thunderdome” starring Tina Turner and Mel Gibson. It is basically Ursula’s favorite movie ever of all time and so to honor my sun-goddess, I based my technician test protocol on this box office smash.

Basically, my “HEWOdome” test will involve 28 straight hours of written exams covering everything from my life history and the information contained in my few, but invaluable publications to the ecology and evolutionary history of the HEWO. I also intend to utilize a new bird identification program called Practical Eyesight Nectotron for Identification of Species; PENIS for short. Bascially, what PENIS does is it rapidly displays a series of 100 pictures of different bird species in under 1 minute, about 6 inches from the face of the person being examined. The person must then correctly identify as many species as possible. Those with the highest score will then move on to the next phase of testing. Following will be a 72 hour all-terrain race using their respective field “vehicles”. One major component of this race is the acquisition of a case of ZIMA I have hidden at various locations in the jungle. The persons to bring back the most cases of ZIMA will move on to the final showdown; a fight-to-the-death in the “HEWO Dome”. I will introduce various weapons into the arena to see how the potential technicians deal with novel tools and stressful field-like situations. Basically, I only have money to support 7 technicians, so unfortunately most will basically have to perish in the “HEWOdome”. Some of you may be thinking, why can you not hire everyone? You received the largest grant known to humans to study HEWOs! Well basically, to answer this silly question, it’s because I don’t want everyone. I want the best of the best, not some illegals shipped over on a cargo barge that wouldn’t know a HEWO from the nutsack of a mountain gorilla. It may hurt some of you to know this, but my type of research is not for everyone. In actuality, I am truly the only human that can do it properly. Everyone else’s feeble attempts at scientific greatness basically, obviously, lack merit. So, it is left to me to make the world a better place for everyone. . .

Wang et al.

2009-04-09T09:35:00.000-07:00

Well Mitzi, you failed me, as expected. I don't know how hard it is to log on to E-Baysian and order me a bunch of Asians, but something has gone wrong. First off, the cargo barge ran aground into a highway somewhere.

But since they were basically on land, they decided to call and confirm our order. I was expecting to just get the Wangs, but apparently four different familes of Asians are headed our way! Are you freaking kidding me? What am I going to do with them all? I hope they get along...

Basically anyways, I was initially basically surprised about this, but basically thinking about all of the important work that needs to be basically done saving the world, I decided this would basically be an excellent opportunity to obtain additional help in the field, basically. However, all of my field assistants must pass a rigorous interview with me. So I decided to interview the 4 families that were coming. This was difficult because they don't speak much English, I guess they must be stupid or something. Again, I basically couldn't understand their unpronounceable names, so I was again forced to give them collective names. In addition to the Wangs, we will shortly be expecting the arrival of the Khans, the Gorbachevs, and the Kawasakis. I wasn't really able to interview them thoroughly, but considering the circumstances, I'll give them a pass. The important thing is that they assured me that they had their own field vehicles. I am eagerly awaiting their arrival. Plus, I need a pedicure and some sweet-and-sour chicken drumsticks.

Is this all I’m worth?

2009-04-08T17:32:00.001-07:00

As expected, Ursula and her parents couldn’t live without having me join their family tree. Perhaps because of my amazing skills and intellect, or because they’d like to increase the probability of purging their gene pool of uni-brows and female hirsutism. Basically, I was recently contacted by Yuri, Ursula’s father, with the terms of the dowry he is willing to offer in order to have me marry his daughter. So after waiting with anticipation for 5 months without telling anyone, you can imagine my surprise when today I received an old dishwasher, a blue bowling ball, 41 coconuts and an angry cat! ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!? I was expecting a luxury car, gold, diamonds and/or other various gemstones, and livestock! The man’s a freakin’ goat herder and he can’t spare a single goat!?! Does he have any idea how much a petrified owl-monkey-testicle-laden ring costs?!? Although he claimed that’s all he could afford, I think I’m playing hardball on this one. I’m not some second-rate biologist and, although I’m not one to brag, I’m the best damned biologist in the world! I momentarily considered putting myself back on the market, but I do realize that I’m unlikely to find another person like Ursula, my Sun-Goddess. I truly believe she’s the only one that loves and admires me as much as I love and admire myself. For this reason, I’ll give Yuri a chance to supplement this meager dowry. In the meantime, I’ll need to have Mateo take a break from massaging Magnum’s feet and dispose of this non-functional dishwasher in the forest somewhere.

Ursula is the luckiest woman in the world!

2009-04-07T21:19:00.000-07:00

Basically, as you may or may not remember, Halloween is the most special of special holidays. Never has the day been more exceptional than this past year when, as you may or may not recall, I went, as I do for all important major holidays, to Slovenia to spend this extraordinary day with my Sun-Goddess, Ursula. As we went to the Halloween ball dressed as the two greatest musicians in the history of music or history, Rob and Fab, the two transcendent musical virtuoso geniuses from the band known as Milli Vanilli, I had a surprise in my pocket. Obviously, this isn’t the first time I’ve had a surprise in my pocket for Ursula, as I’m sure she, her goat, and most of her neighbors within a three-block radius can basically tell you, and by that I’m basically referring to my amazing sexual prowess although I don’t like to toot my own horn, although Ursula basically does. I hope I’m not making you uncomfortable, but if I am, that’s just the price you’ll have to pay for being my loyal unquestioning and subservient followers. Because I am a biologist, mentor, and artist, in the interest of pedagogy I have provided a biological diagram of Ursula's goat:

Prior to departing for Slovenia, I had used some of my research funds to commission a local Paraguayan jeweler, Roberto, to make an engagement ring in the form of Kurupi, the Guarani god of sexuality and fertility, out of the petrified testicle of a free-ranging owl monkey. Basically, nothing can better symbolize our love and commitment for one another. Not only did he make the aforementioned ring that I would later bestow upon my almost-sole-reason for living, Ursula, he also made me a matching ring that he said was of “Jasy Jetere” god of the siesta, whatever that means, out of the owl monkey’s baculum, whatever that is.

As we left for the aforementioned party, me with the extra testicle in my pocket, I was giddy. I couldn’t wait for that special moment to arrive, that moment of pure ecstasy that we had experienced on the dance floor each of the previous two years when our favourite song, “Girl you know it’s true”, was played for our slow dance of the evening. The excitement was almost too much to take. This would be the most important moment of Ursula’s life. I quickly grew impatient and when the song “Blame it on the rain” came on, I briefly lost control and peed a little bit in my pants. I then regained my composure and waited patiently for two more songs after which I approached the DJ, who likely recognized me, and demanded that he play our song. As I walked back toward Ursula, the song came on and our eyes locked across the dance floor, just as they had done two long years before. What happened next was obviously magical. I dropped to one knee and reached into my pocket. All at once, I emptied the rest of my bladder and began to sob uncontrollably. As I kneeled, sobbing and in a pool of my own urine, I began to slowly utter the most profound words to ever leave the mouth of a human being “Will you…” and it was at that point that the sobbing became so uncontrollable that my speech was obstructed by the streams of snot pouring down my face. I continued “Will you…” and then collapsed to the floor where I crouched in the fetal position and lost control of my bowels. As I laid in my own waste incomprehensibly stuttering and shaking uncontrollably, Ursula knelt down and I asked if she would join me in saving the Earth and do me the honour of being my wife and, legally, number one follower. Obviously, she did not feel comfortable answering at that point in time for fear of making all of the other women, men, and hermaphrodites in the room jealous. She assured me that, as is custom in her culture, she would give me an answer after five months while her father attempted to amass a proper dowry, and she made me promise not to tell anyone in the meantime. Well, five months is up, and we’re officially engaged! I’m supposed to find out my dowry tomorrow, and I’m sure a proper Slovenian dowry for the World’s Greatest Biologist will be quite impressive.

Equipment Borrowing Protocol

2009-04-02T08:58:00.000-07:00

The WGB’s greatness in the world of science is not in any way novel. In addition to my spitting good looks, my boyish charm, and my ability to make everyone around me seem like they are one genetic mutation away from being legally retarded, I am particularly crafty in making sure that all of my focus is on the WGB, and I let nothing stand in the way of my mission to save my planet or my time spent with the most beautiful, bipedal creature to grace the Earth; my Ursula. As much as I would like to help everyone else with their projects that, dare I say, lack merit, I am simply too busy saving the planet and studying the greatest bird of all time, the HEWO. So, basically, I have devised a protocol in which I am able to make other, less meritous projects, donate their equipment to help me save the world from utter devastation. As you all remember, I received a massive grant to carry out research on the HEWO and have put all of the aforementioned grant money to good use. However, there are still things that I simply must have that, rather than waste my own money purchasing, I borrow from lesser researchers. Take, for instance, my borrowing of a hovercraft from the University of Paraguay’s Sea Turtle Project. Initially, the turtle project coordinators were hesitant to loan me their only field vehicle, but after convincing them that my project required a hovercraft, they let me borrow it for “just one week.” But, as any real scientist knows, saving the planet isn’t going to happen in a week!
So, upon acquiring my new hovercraft I set out in search of the elusive HEWO.

What the turtle project ignoramuses didn’t inform me of was that hovercrafts are not very useful in environments with trees! Are You Freaking Kidding Me!? How did they not know that! So, needless to say, I spent much of the day bouncing off of trees like a friggin’ pinball and began to bleed from my ears because the stupid craft was louder than a turbo jet. And, more importantly, I never even detected a HEWO! Eventually, I found a new helmet with built in hearing protectors and was able to find my way back out of the woods, but the hovercraft suffered some damage in the process. Because I was bouncing around and ended up going backwards through a portion of unfamiliar habitat, I ended up driving the hovercraft over a cliff and landed in the tops of some trees.

I suffered a severe laceration to my smallest toe that required a dollop of Neosporin and a large bandaid. Unfortunately, My equipment borrowing protocol does not discuss how to remove a hovercraft from the canopy. It does, however, explicitly say that all borrowed equipment should be returned in worse condition than it was in when it was borrowed. This is suggested in my protocol because if the equipment is returned in equal or better condition, then this would indicate that said equipment was not used as it should have been. I borrow equipment with the understanding that it is worthless and it has served its purpose only when it’s broken or damaged, thereby indicating it was used. Bascially, the sea turtle crew didn’t understand my genius protocol and seemed unhappy with the location and condition of their hovercraft. They tried to explain to me that I needed to get the hovercraft out of the tree because I borrowed it. But I told them that because I was done using it and no longer needed its services that it was their responsibility to purchase a helicopter to remove it from the treetops. Are You Freaking Kidding Me?!? How do they not understand that the loss of their crappy hovercraft is but a small price to pay to have me save the world?

The Podiatric Massagial Arts

2009-04-01T08:18:00.001-07:00

Basically, as you may remember from yesterday’s post, I sent my technician Carl to a technical college to learn how to perform professional foot messages. I also had Mitzi, my project secretary/planner, look into recruiting a crew strictly for massage purposes. This post is to let all of my fans know the great news . . . Mitzi was able to purchase Carl’s entire family!

They are scheduled to board a cargo barge today and should be arriving at my field house within the next week. Mitzi has told me that the description on E-Baysian.com described the Wangs as basically well trained in the massaging arts. As was the case with Carl, their names are basically unpronounceable and I was forced to give them all one, collective name; the Wangs. The Wangs’ purpose will be to massage my feet during scheduled 20 minute breaks and at night while I watch the two greatest shows of all time; American Idol and Dancing With The Stars. Some of you may be wondering why I need Carl's entire family. Well basically, the basic truth is that I don't really need all of them, they were a package deal so I had no choice but to buy them as one. However, apparently, basically one of the Wangs cooked for a Chinese restaurant and, because I am such a fan of chicken legs, I intend to utilize their culinary talents to cook me some delicious chicken leg fried rice, chicken legs in garlic sauce, chicken legs and broccoli, General Wangs chicken legs, and Zima-basted chicken drumsticks.

I basically anticipate this being a scrumptious change to my typical dinner of baked 6-legged chicken that I am currently forced to make myself. I know what you all are thinking; What is to happen to Mateo, my former foot massager? Well, basically I have promoted him to massaging the feet of my giant rabbit, Magnum. You may also be thinking; Well wasn’t Rogelio in charge of caring for Magnum? No worries my concerned followers, I have Rogelio currently working out the issues associated with the radio-reception acquisition protocols I recently enacted.

The Adventures of Carl . . . My New Technician

2009-03-31T13:12:00.000-07:00

Basically, as many of you probably recall from the majority of my previous posts, Ursula and I speak on the phone an average of 28.8 times per day, which equates to about twice for every hour I am awake. I typically have had to carry two cell phones myself in addition to making my technicians carry one each so if something happened to a phone or one of my technicians carrying a phone, I would have numerous backups. The usefulness of this backup technique has been proven in recent weeks, as my technicians keep losing the phones through field “accidents”. It is as if they never realized that trying to traverse a wet, rock-covered 60 degree slope may result in them falling down! Even when I shout directions to them from the foot of the hill, they tend not to listen and ultimately slide back to the bottom, losing the phone on the way down. So, in an attempt to solve these aforementioned issues, I simply moved my field site to an area where the HEWOs inhabit areas with more roads.

The first thing I did was apply for the largest grant I could, and of course all I had to explain was how I was single-handedly saving the planet. Of course my reputation preceded me and they basically doubled the money they were giving away. So, I basically improved all of my equipment by throwing it out and buying all new stuff. I also purchased a new, “international” technician from somewhere in Asia; Wong Fu Xing, or as I call him Carl, as I cannot figure out what part of his name is the first part. So, after outfitting my project with some new rigs, radio and communication equipment, and Carl, I was ready to begin developing protocols to determine the best service locations for calling Ursula. The largest hill in the area seemed ideal and I sent Carl up there to test his field abilities and my new radio equipment.

Unfortunately, basically Carl could not understand what the protocol described but failed to tell me in a language I could understand, so I pointed to the hill and put the radio to my head to indicate what I wanted. Carl shook his head and I assumed he knew what I was telling him. So, I took the time to grab a Zima and get my bunions massaged by my new Martha Stewart Self-Bunionator. Basically, just after I dipped my toes into the warm bubbly water, Carl came into my field house covered in dirt and panting. Basically I was telling him I didn’t know what he was saying when I saw the unthinkable . . . my brand new field truck hanging from a cliff, held in place only by my new field boat. ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME!?!?

Luckily, the truck was not my new LandCrawler4500. I was so angry, the first thing I did was call Ursula to seek her advice. I could barely say her name, as I was crying so much because my bunions hurt. I was prepared to ship Carl back to the Orient, but my sun goddess convinced me to give him another try. So, I first made him get back into the truck dangling from the cliff so when they towed it back onto the road he would be able to drive it back down. He did, however, lose his vehicular privileges and I made him carry the 105 lb backpack radio I recently bought from a military surplus store to the top of the hill.

Basically, its true range, although unknown by mortal men, has been estimated to be hundreds of miles, so I assumed I would be able to reach Ursula and not have to pay for “minutes” allotted by cell phone companies. Six hours after Carl left for the top of the hill he returned, stumbled into my field house all sweaty and pale and started speaking in languages I couldn’t understand. So I basically handed him my newly developed protocol discussing the proper way to explain to me situations that arise in the field and instructed him to go outside and read it, as he was laying half way out of the door letting the cool air out of the field house. Basically, Carl came back into the house 5 minutes later and pointed to the very old, rotted cable that attached the phone to the backpack radio. Apparently, the store I bought the radio from did not perform any equipment checks and I was thus under the impression that the radio worked. Exhausted and frustrated, I immediately ordered a brand new Hummer with an XF3 satellite dish attached to its roof.

From now on, I will just have to drive to the top of the hill to call Ursula. Luckily, for a measly $10,000 I was able to specially order a second Martha Stewart Self-Bunionator to be installed in the back of the Hummer, so while I talk to Ursula I can soak my feet. I’m also considering sending Carl to become trained in foot massages, as he doesn’t seem good for much else.

One more reason I am a vegickentarian!

2009-03-30T15:29:00.000-07:00

Basically for those of you that are not intimate with the ideals of the WGB, I am what I term a vegickentarian; one who eats only vegetables and chicken, particularly chicken legs. The reasons for my choosing such a diet are complex and are many. The most notable up until this past week was the killing of my uncle Ernesto. Years ago as a child, I witnessed one of the most horrible events in my life. My uncle delivered a calf on the family farm. He slowly walked up to the calf, as he had done to countless others, and began to try and feed it milk through a bottle. Once uncle Ernest bent over to slip the nipple into the calf’s mouth, it bit him in the neck, basically decapitating him. The calf quickly turned on me and tried to bite my leg, but luckily it only bit my cargo shorts and my Captain Planet underpants before I knocked it out by pistol whipping it. Sadly, my uncle did not make it, and being witness to the whole thing left me scarred for life. It was from that day forward that I vowed to never trust any cow, including the meat that is taken from them.
I recently returned to the field to conduct my ground breaking research on the elusive HEWO. Because this research is so important to the health of our planet I had no problem acquiring some very large grants to carry out the aforementioned stuff. Basically, aside from hiring a new technician solely for massaging the bunions on my sore feet and getting me Zima 24/7, I purchased a new field vehicle to move all of my valuable equipment around from one site to another. Generally I would move equipment by hand, however my bunions have been hurting very badly and even moving distances of 1m was challenging. However, I don’t like to let my physical disabilities slow me down, hence my purchasing of the 2010 U.S. military issue LandCrawler4500.
This physcial characteristics and $750,000.00 cost may seem excessive to some, but given the terrain and the threats shouted by indigenous people when I drive through their fields, I feel it is a necessity. The reason I purchased this vehicle was because I was told it was solid steel, but apparently it is a piece of crap. Recently, while travelling through a local village, I took a short cut through a bean crop. Upon reaching the other end of the crop, I noticed that some idiot put their cows where I needed to pass through the gate. This left me in an awful position, as I did not want to let my workers know of my fear of cattle, but I needed to call Ursula urgently to tell her of my new vehicle purchase and there is only one site where I have ideal reception. So basically, I basically made the decision to drive through the gate. I turned on my headlights and honked my horn, figuring the four-legged creatures would know enough to move. Well, some of them scattered but there was one that simply stood in the gate and stared at the vehicle while chewing on some grass. Due to my unfamiliarity with the controls of the LandCrawler4500, I accidently hit the gas and rammed the cow. I immediately got out to look at the damage and saw that the chrome bumper was dented in at a 90 degree angle and my right headlight was out, not to mention that the LandCrawler was now stuck in the loose soil of the field. I immediately took out my vehicle excavation protocol and sent my technicians to work. I, on the other hand, looked briefly for the cow in the front of the vehicle, did not see it, and assumed it made it out better than my LandCrawler. To make a long story short, basically, this incident only deepened my hatred for everything cow. Now, thanks to those fat, dumb creatures, I have to spend $9,000.00 fixing my chrome bumper and headlight that need to be imported from Germany, AND I called Ursula 0.5 hours late . . . and got her voicemail! The only good thing that came out of this is that while the LandCrawler is being repaired, I can take some time to visit Ursula and remove myself from the ignoramus’s I am surrounded by everyday. Now do you understand why I am a vegickentarian?

The most historical thing EVER. (Aside from my own birth)

2009-01-22T12:25:00.000-08:00

Basically, I just witnessed the most historical event ever in the history of history. Basically, the aforementioned event was the inauguration of the next earth-saving president, Barack Obama. Obama is awesome because he wants to save the earth. Even though others in my organization told me I should really be out saving the HEWOs, I would not miss this event for the world. And so I booked a first-class ticket to DC for the inauguration. Supporting Obama is supporting saving the earth, so that makes me a first-class earth-saving stud. I did not have a ticket, but some New Zealander holding a sign sold me a scalped ticket right in front of the Lincoln Memorial!! This sounded great, though I ended up being slightly farther back than I anticipated. This experience was even more sweet because I am sure to become famous on TV. I am not sure, but I bet that you can basically see me on TV, since you could see the Lincoln Memorial, and that’s about where I was standing. Except I was also on the back side of the Lincoln Memorial, but I fought my way to the other side so I could sort of see something. I think there were a few people in front of me, but my seats were basically the best you can get.

However, upon returning from aforementioned pilgrimage, I was saddened and shocked to find a massive violation of my personal rights. When I left, I adminished my coworkers not to sit in my research recliner. You see, I, of my own accord, had Mitzi and Juanita haul a shiny new research recliner up the stairs to my 7th floor office. Mitzi was grumbling because I wouldn’t let her use the elevator, but I needed to use the elevator to transport my Zima crate. Anyway, where was I, oh yeah, so I told the worthless unfit-to-be-in-my-presence officemates to keep their grubby paws off the research recliner. I made this perfectly clear by installing a sign on the recliner with a detailed protocol of how one should not sit in the Research Recliner. But I returned to find that SOMEONE HAD BEEN SITTING IN MY RESEARCH RECLINER!!!!! I know this because I had Mateo and Rogelio come in from the field to charge and change the deep-cycle batteries that powered the Covertly Hidden Apparatus that detects Inauthorizable Reclining (CHAIR) cameras. The cameras detected all sorts of inauthorizable activities, such as putting-on of other peoples butts, putting-on of decorative and mocking ornaments, and putting-on of rotting fruit pieces. I am disgusted. I can think of no other reason that someone would do a thing like this other than if they were against my saving the earth. I am going to have to stop giving my co-workers the benefit of reading my work, and carrying my equipment, and washing my car, because they clearly don’t appreciate me.

Indecency

2009-01-09T12:22:00.000-08:00

My followers,

I have news regarding the statue that was created in my image and, understandably, basically failed to live up to that.

You see, Ursula was disturbed at the shocking level of nudity that was basically a shock. Who ever heard of a statue of a naked person?

So Ursula has remedied that situation, as you can see below. Naturally, I can see how some people would be shocked by a portrayal of something that large, so it's probably for the best that it's covered up.

Furthermore, many of you astute readers have emailed me regarding the basically shocking baby-kicking. I will admit, I was basically shocked that I was baby-kicking as well. So we have also remedied that.

As you may or may not be aware of, I am someone who is basically very sensitive and aware of the needs and feelings of others. So thusly, I hope that with the new additions to the statue, the aforementioned statue will now not cause anyone any anguish or embarrassment. Ursula has recently also contacted the Louvre. I bought her a plane ticket to France with my research funds, and as we speak, she is headed there with a shipment of underpants and sheets so that no person in this great and sensitive world will ever suffer offense.

The Most Importantest Holiday

2008-10-30T21:24:00.000-07:00

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

2008-10-29T19:59:00.001-07:00

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

2008-10-28T18:29:00.000-07:00

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

2008-10-27T19:17:00.000-07:00

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

2008-10-26T19:30:00.000-07:00

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

2008-10-21T08:13:00.000-07:00

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!

2008-10-20T21:22:00.000-07:00

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

2008-09-23T06:18:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-25T13:40:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-23T09:20:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-22T08:27:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-21T15:27:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-18T12:34:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-13T05:26:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-12T09:12:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-11T19:57:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-11T10:20:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-09T07:51:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-08T11:05:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-08T09:17:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-08T07:23:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-07T12:01:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-06T15:02:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-02T09:18:00.000-07:00

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?

2008-06-24T21:29:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-15T14:15:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-12T11:52:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-11T05:47:00.000-07:00

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)!

2008-05-09T07:19:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-08T06:13:00.000-07:00

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?

2008-05-07T06:45:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-05T06:14:00.000-07:00

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?

2008-05-04T08:24:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-03T08:49:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-02T12:09:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-02T11:04:00.000-07:00

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!

A few humble observations

2008-04-28T08:35:00.000-07:00

As the WGB, I excel in many areas and my field skills are, basically, unsurpassed, but there is one skill in particular that I feel I am so good at that it boggles the mind (particularly lesser minds like those of my incompetent assistants – have I mentioned that my assistants are completely incompetent? Why is it that I always seem to get incompetent assistants – particularly after my rigorous and arcane interviewing protocol?). I’m sorry. I don’t like to complain but when I’m trying to save the world single-handedly and keep ending up surrounded by inferiors, it begins to wear…I digress. Anyway, the aforementioned skill to which I referred already but did not name is that of color band combo resighting. I’m not bragging or anything but it is certainly to my advantage that I have eyes like an eagle and the reflexes of a cat but in addition to that, I feel the fact that I am exceptionally good looking works to my advantage. I believe that the birds are so intrigued by my stunning good looks that it allows me to get just a little bit closer than most lesser humans. Unfortunately, the same is true for women when they are confronted by my visage. They are always asking me questions “about my research” but they and I both know what they are really after. It’s funny, I never knew how many men in the area of avian research are gay but they are always trying to ask me questions “about my research” also and I figure that can mean only one thing. Anyways, there are those that try to belittle my skills at the task of resighting color band combos simply because I am studying large woodpeckers (the HEWO) and I am able to place seven color bands around their neck. I don’t see how resighting color band combos around the legs of birds can be any more difficult. My incompetent assistants even have the nerve to say that it is my binoculars that enable me to make the resightings! They say that they should have binoculars too!! I don’t really have the heart to tell them that they are not getting the resightings because they are not nearly as attractive as me and I sure couldn’t afford plastic surgery for them anyway.

Originality

2008-04-23T14:21:00.000-07:00

Although some biologists like to use established methods to conduct their research, I basically feel like this practice lacks originality. Style points are basically very important to me and ladies basically love biologists that invent their own protocols (LBLBTITOP). Basically, the acronym for my philosophy on research is also a color band combination for one of my HEWOs (Light Blue, Light Blue, Teal, Indigo, Teal, Orange, Pink), the name of this bird is of course “Little Blue Lazy Bird Tit Operation”. Obviously, this seems like more color bands than most biologists put on birds, but putting 7 instead of 3 color bands on my birds means that I’m more than twice as good as these ordinary biologists. Basically, these biolo-wimps rely on things like “efficiency” and “numbers” and other sciency sounding things in order to conduct research that’s “accepted” by the scientific community. I basically disagree with this way of doing things as it almost takes the fun right out of it and also takes away from my future fame as the author of the WGB handbook of superior scientific field protocols. Some may see these views as arrogant, but I just view them as a realization that all biologists will someday see the errors in their ways and start doing things the way that I do them.

"The Hired Help"

2008-04-23T09:23:00.000-07:00

Basically, as you may or may not know, I am in the process of saving the Helmeted Woodpecker from man's selfish deathgrip of extinction. Obviously, this is a lot for any one person to take on and, even though I'm basically doing everything by myself, I occassionally allow some lesser aspiring biologists to help me in my quest. My research is basically envied by biologists from around the world so, as you'd imagine, I get lots of interest from young people that long for the honour and privelege of helping me single-handedly save the HEWO. Basically, women want me and men want to be me, and probably some women want to be me and some men want me, but I'm not gay or anything, just extremely successful and respected by both sexes and even some hermaphrodites. My process for hiring apprentices is a fairly detailed and rigorous process but, for the select few that are lucky enough, they do get to work with me for months at a time. Obviously, you can imagine my disappointment when those that I have chosen to serve me ultimately let me down. Recently, I sent one of these servants, Jorge, to ride his bicycle to town to have my laundry professionally cleaned. You can imagine my shock when Jorge wrecked his bicycle, broke his arm, and didn't even get my laundry cleaned! Are you freaking kidding me?!? Basically, if you want the job done well, you better just have me do it because these lower life forms known as "technicians" just aren't worth the trouble.

Earth Day

2008-04-22T11:17:00.000-07:00

As you may or may not know, I'm basically a vegetarian except when in comes to Earth's most delicious resource: chicken drumsticks. Everything I do lessens my impact on the Earth, in fact by staying relatively immobile for long periods of time, I use less oxygen, produce less carbon dioxide, and consume less energy. In order to save our beloved Earth, I long ago made the decision that my only mode of transportation would be bicycle or canoe. In fact, I got to my study site in Paraguay, where as you may or may not know I study Helmeted Woodpeckers in the tropical rainforests, after two months of constant pedaling and paddling. So I suppose you're basically thinking, where do chicken drumsticks fit in to this awesome committment to the Earth's resources? Well, what I didn't mention is that I only eat drumsticks from organically raised and genetically engineered 6-legged chickens. Basically, this means that it takes 3-times fewer chickens to satiate my appetite for chicken flesh. It's hard maintaining my overwhelming committment to the Earth, but basically, you're welcome.

Documenting how I'm single-handedly changing the earth

2008-04-20T15:03:00.000-07:00

Basically, this will be the first of my many posts where I describe how I'm awesome and deserve the title of "World's Greatest Biologist." Paramount to this effort is basically explaining a little bit about myself and what I may or may not do in my efforts to save the Earth from the senseless greed of man's selfishness. You can basically look forward to more details as the days pass and I describe more about my research, why it is superior to all that preceded it, and how amazingly successful I have become.