Saturday, June 28, 2008

Oh, poor children!

I'm here in Alentejo (Portugal - that's in Europe). How is the weather in here, you ask? It's warm.

I'm kidding, it's hot! I swear the air looks like having tons of red. My arse was almost burned in the car seats. A flame would feel hot in here. You got to knot a cube of ice to your forehead to remain minimally fresh.

It seems that some guys in Washington DC (someone told me once what DC meant, but I forgot. I'm just not going there in case it means Dick Cancer) said that the North Pole will be iceless at the end of this summer. There is very little ice there already, thanks to the supposedly "intelligent" and "rational" human kind (which insists of doing great favours like this to its own planet constantly), and even that is probably gone by October.

And for this I'm not worrying about the extinctions of polar bears or seals (two very important animals who produce very very cute cubs) or any other poor, innocent, sinless, beautiful being who happened by chance to live in huge place we just melted, causing thousands of deaths only by disrespect and selfishness - no, I'm worried about Santa Clause.

Every one knows that ol' Father Christmas lives up there in the icy hills of North Pole, with his elves and reindeers, making the presents for the children who behaved good, and making huge bonfires (because when the fire is put down, the coal is to be given to the naughty children). Except now there is now icy hills. There's no hills at all. So where is every child's favourite fictional character supposed to go with his pigmees and flying stags?

If Santa Clause is reading this (which I think he should, since this is the best way to know if I'm good or naughty - the first to guess which one I am gets a cookie!), I want to leave some suggestions about destinies when your house have, you know, melted.

* My neighbours house. - There isn't much room for presents for nearly every kid in the world (my suggestion is, assume that every kid who can't speak, or has made pee-pee or poo-poo in the pants, or doesn't like the green stuff, is naughty. Your bag will get a hell lot lighter!). But it's a great location (it's nearly in the middle of the map, we're right above Africa), and you can do all the bonfires you want - the police doesn't care! (that is, if you pay them. But I guess if you can afford to make millions of presents you can afford a little bribe).

* The Saara desert. - This is just like the North Pole. It's isolated, it's quiet, you won't get unexpected visits (basically everyone passing by will think they're seeing a mirage). It's kind of in the middle of the map (in North Pole you could just go to any point of the glob, is just going South. But the advantage is that in Saara a compass could actually work). There may be problem on getting used to the weather, passing from ice to sand (believe me, I know how you'll feel). It may be a little hot for your traditional Coca Cola-sponsored red robes and hat, so you better take another outfit, like red and white shorts. The belt, the boots and the beard may also get too hot, so loose them. And don't get surprised to see your elves melting too. Oh, and get rid of the reindeers and buy a pack of flying camels (ones with hydrogen in their humps, I guess). The mirages are also frequent there, so don't get surprised to start seeing a lot of Mrs. Clauses in here.

* Las Vegas. - A lot of Mrs. Clauses around here too!

* USA in general. - Yeah, let those Christian bastards have their precious Xmas. "Ooh ooh, 'Xmas', I can't write the real word, or I'd be lame. Ooh Ooh, god bless America. Uncle Sam and all". Bastards. Wait until we send a missile there.


There's another question; if North pole is gonna melt, we get only one pole. We can't keep calling that one "South Pole". We used to call it that to tell the two poles apart. Now I guess it'll just be "the Pole".

What a lame name.

Thursday, June 19, 2008

Albatross! Lesbian albatross!


Yes, apparently albatrosses can be lesbians. Bastards. The one good thing that belonged to our species. Humans have lack of intelligence and spirituality, disrespect for Nature, war and murder, but unleast we had lesbians! We were the only ones to have lesbians. Now not even that! (No, I never heard of Art, science, poetry, love or music).

One can obviously know that homosexuality between women is a shared liking between heterosexual men (and homosexual women). Just search how many videos on youtube have the title "Hot young sexy girls making out on couch/on bed/on crack". Now, even sea birds can do it!

Apparently, 1/3 of the albatross couples that take care of eggs are lesbian couples. Now the question is:

Can we still consume them?

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Monday, June 16, 2008

Cell phones + China needs an Umbrella

So (everytime I post stuff about what's happening in the world, I'll start such posts with "so". Every one of them. I'm warning now so you don't have any bad feelings about it), some cancer researchers from France have the theory that the excessive presence of cell phones can be dangerous to children younger than 12 years old, and may cause cancer - with which I totally agree with. Why do they need cell phones anyway? The only thing for which they would use them anyway was playing games and making prank calls to 911. It's the same thing as 9-year-old or younger girls wearing tops and bikinis in the summer. What for? It's not like they have something to cover yet (in the case of the bikinis) or to show (in the case of the tops).

But what intrigued me is that these scientists suggest that the cell phone must be unleast a meter away from the child.
... So I guess they'll start making children's trousers with pockets that stick one meter out of the legs.

They say that sending a written message is better than doing a talked phone call. This is quite obvious why; in the talked phone calls, the phone is closer to the face and such.
The problem is: A written message takes years to write, specially for a young kid. Plus, most children under 12 cannot even write (for some, it's a wonder they can barely talk).


On lighter news, it seems that there was a flood in China. 57 people died (1300 millions left). On this side of the globe (PORTUGAL! PORTUGAL! PORTUGAL!), we all know that such flood was a punishment from our sweet Lord to those Buddhists and Taoists. Or it could have been China's climatic conditions.
It was probably the second one.

At Rnaad!

Castor caesum venezualis

Member of the Castoridae family and the Rodentia order, the Venezuelan Beaver evolved from primary rodents living in South America, which also gave existence to the capybara (Hydrochoerus hydrochaeris) and the extinct Giant Beaver (Castoroides ohioensis). However, neither the capybara nor the extinct Giant Beaver give such good cheese as the great Venezuelan beaver (this may also be due to the fact that none of them can be milked - the Giant Beavers are dead and the capybaras... bite).

Venezuelan Beaver Cheese is made 100% of beaver cheese (plus 50% goat cheese, 67% vinegar, 7% cat milk, 76% Moon and 23% magic), curdled and washed by Brazilian blind nuns, and put in to age for nearly 650 years.

The cheese is yummy, tasty, and it doesn't have that whole crap of holes, bleedin' Switzers - who wants to eat a bloody cheese with holes anyway? Half of the cheese isn't even there! Like those bleedin' Quesos Palmitas, all salty. Rubbish.

Our cheese is known to entertain mice, selenographers, Python fans all over the world and Hugo Chávez (¿Porqué nó te callas y comes un queso?) without warning. Scientists predict that if a World War III is to come, it will be because of the lack of water - or because of the Venezuelan Beaver Cheese (one of the two). Which is extremely preocupant.

So enjoy your cheese for now, kids, and remember...