Legal Misrepresentation

As you may or may not know, I basically did nothing wrong to deserve my incarcerational time in prison. One of you, my loyal fans, basically inquired as to what the official criminal accusations levied against me were such that you would know them.  And did I hire a lawyer?  Are you freaking kidding me?!?  Of course I hired a freaking lawyer, I hired the best freaking lawyer in Paraguay!!!  Did he get me acquitted of the crimes against me, and therefore, against the Earth and all of humanity? NO!!!  Did I start logging the pristine forest around our new headquarters to pay your fees, Martin Almada, and I still went to prison?!? YES!!!

What kind of freaking charge is bushmeat trafficking anyway?!?  Are you freaking kidding me?!?  Bushes don’t even have meat!!  If they did, they'd basically make me sick to my stomach.

Exhibit A:

I should have basically just represented myself such that I could have not went to prison.  I'm not bragging, but I'm basically pretty sure that I would be a pretty good lawyer.  This is all ultimately basically Carl’s fault, but you’re to blame too Martin. Thanks for nothing.  

Why Carl? Why?

Carl, I know you’re out there and I know you’re reading this. You made a huge mistake, and you don’t know who you’re messing with. I don’t know how you could do this to me Carl, do you have any idea what you’ve done to my Earth saving operation?  I thought we were a team.  I’ll never forgive you Carl, and you can't come back, it's too late and you've done too much damage.  I haven’t had any calls yet from prospective employers, but I’m a pretty big deal and I WILL NOT GIVE YOU A GOOD RECOMMENDATION!  I’ll track you down Carl.  I’m watching you.

Blunt-force Trauma

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

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.

Somebody ask a freaking question

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.

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!!

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/

A Potentially Groundbreaking Technique

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.

My time is valuable

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

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.

Publishing hassles

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.

Wang et al.

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?

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.

The Adventures of Carl . . . My New Technician

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.

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

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.

Monstrosity

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


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

I Answer to No One

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

Immortalizing the Nectar of the Gods and WGBs

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



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

Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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