When it starts bleating, that’s generally a sign of overindulging.
Either that or someone slipped LSD into it.
I never really got into Rosenberg’s previous opus Goats, but this comic is simultaneously topical, surreal and consistently funny.
Every Friday there’s another episode of an ongoing story, the first famously being Sciencemaster Adler and his mysterious fan. Or fans. Or maybe they’re not fans but are sentient vegetable people. (Mind you, this is a multiverse, so maybe there’s sentient clothing accessory people as well, but that could be heading into the Douglas Adams Territories.)
Techniques for Studying Nest Success of Squid in Upland Habitats in the Prarie Pothole Region
The simplest technique known — in theory — is to simply take two (or more) in-heat Yetisyn to the survey site, let ‘em give in to those ol’ carnal urges, and watch to see how many prarie squids come wriggling out to join in.
Unfortunately, there are several flaws with this simplified process.
- Yetisyn couplings/triplings/whatever are rather distracting, as they sorta look like tentacle sex movies, but where you can’t tell which is the monster and which is its victim about to have her clothing ripped of prior to — er, I digress. Anyway, since everybody’s goggling at the Yeti they’re not paying attention to however many bull squids are joining in, and where from.
- Since nobody’s paying attention to where the bull squids are coming from, you can’t grab ‘em and measure their primary mating organ length, a fairly accurate indicator of a) age and b) harem size. Usually by the time anyone spots a bull, it’s already embroiled in the goddamn fustercluck to the point that trying to extract the thing is too dangerous. As I understand it, only fools try to part a Yeti and sheit’s squid.
- Yetisyn matings tend to have a strong cumulative effect; ie. researchers tend to forget about counting squid and join in the fustercluck. As yet no data has come to light on fatalities caused by this. Radiation damage to remote cameras and sensory equipment has been observed as well.
- This only works during the wild squid’s mating season, thus the area is usually crawling with other Yeti who’re either fucking existing populations or harvesting eggs (or even whole harems) for captive breeding stock.
The last close approximation of the total wild prarie squid population dates from about twelve years back (the exact date is illegible, the ink being smeared by some pearly gelatinous substance) and counted roughly 6,000 individuals. The previous Stang-Drummond Expedition of 1983 counted 15,452 individuals. If this rate of population decline continues the wild prarie pothole squid will be effectively extinct before the twenty-first century.
So get ‘em while stocks last.
(Originally posted to alt.slack in the late 90s)
Late August I arrived in Luskwood to observe that Cereal Milk was apparently AFK (away from keyboard), so I rezzed this Yak ‘n’ Yeti shoulder pet and plonked it on his boxed head. A serious LOL moment.
Fresh off Boing Boing this morning, evidence that:
- Some things should not be deep fried.
- Mr Italian Cuisine and Mrs Deep Fryer cannot be friends.
- Assume airtightness and puncture first.
Out trolling for pwotenshul Tumbwa fwends, I found dis. It funny.