The Shiv or the Shank?

Dwight has finally basically awakened, but he has basically been less than forthcoming about where he was or how he got all of the various scratches and abrasions about his body.  After he finally woke up, we basically immediately got back to my therapy.  After a few hours with the aforementioned Dwight and a few bottles of my precious limited supply of Zima, I basically realized that I need to communicate my prison experience to my loyal followers such that I can heal and such that I can provide inspiration to those of you that may or may not spend time in prison at some point in the future for some unforeseen reason.  Basically, the first thing I did when I learned I was going to prison was devote all of the time of my technicians to studying what I needed to do to survive my unfortunate and unfair banishment.  As you may or may not know, there are basically some good books out there on this topic.

There are basically a few basic rules to surviving your prison stay: rule number 1, get yourself a good shiv. Rule number 2, show the other prison people that you mean business. I normally basically don’t want anything to do with business because of the evil destructive practices employed by business in destroying Earth’s precious resources, but this was about survival. Not just any survival, my survival, and therefore Earth’s survival. One such way that one may show that one means business to others such that they establish dominance is through using the aforementioned shiv for shanking a fellow inmate. Basically, shivs can be made from lots of different materials but, interestingly, there really aren’t places where you can buy these so you generally have to make them yourself or buy them from other prison tenants using cigarettes or favors.  So I basically went to prison with a plan, but with lots of unanswered questions about how to get the aforementioned shiv...

First impressions of prison

Was prison an uncomfortable experience? Are you freaking kidding me?!? Do they have chicken drumsticks in prison? Fruit-scented shampoos? Zima?  NO!!!  Can you have technicians in prison?  NO!!!  Laminating machines for your protocols? HELL NO!!! They feed you meat on a regular basis which, as you may or may not recall, makes me sick to my stomach.  I now have irritable bowel syndrome and fecal incontinence problems for reasons that I’m basically not yet ready to go into.  Yes prison was an uncomfortable experience, Carl, I know you’re the one asking such a stupid question. 

Was prison all bad?  Actually, it wasn’t. I was encouraged to find my cellmate was quite fond of me, undoubtedly he was aware of my acclaimed work saving the Helmeted Woodpecker from man’s destructive deathgrip.  Unfortunately, my aforementioned cellmate, Hector, was also quite fond of showing me his Helmeted Woodpecker. 

I’m not ready to go into more details, but with the help of my new therapist, I’m confident that I’ll be able to assail you with the excruciatingly painful and unnecessarily detailed details in the near but not too distant future.  Let’s just say that I basically found ways to get around some of the unnecessarily harsh rules of prison and to continue my efforts to singlehandedly save Earth and all of its majestic creatures.  Prison made me stronger. Now I’m unstoppable.

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.

A Brief Moment of Reflection

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).

Reader Question 2

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.

Welcome to HEWOdome

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. . .

One more reason I am a vegickentarian!

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)

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.

The Most Importantest Holiday

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

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

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.

Discovery

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

Proper Field Attire

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

Tensity

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

Personal Assistant

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

Cricket

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

Update dose

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

Mud

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

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

No Zima in Slovenia?

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


P.S. The chicken drumsticks here suck too.

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