Take it from Snee: Defense experts predict renewed biological attacks

The War on Animals is a complicated affair, sweeping battlefronts large and small. The smallest enemies are, of course, mosquitoes. We’ve fought mosquitoes for over 2,000 years at this point in an ever-escalating biological and chemical weapons arms race.

It wasn’t always this way. We waged the majority of this war using conventional weapons (fly swatters, open-fists, the bug zapper), being the bigger men in spite of mosquito’s preferred biological weapon: itchy venom.

However, once they introduced weaponized malaria into their arsenal, we could no longer fight a reactionary, defensive war. The chemical weapon DDT almost wiped out all malaria-armed units, but we scaled back once we received accusations of war crimes from Rachel Carson.

The war cooled off, returning to defensive tactics and aggravating bumps, but mosquitoes stepped up biological weapon production in 2003 when they unleashed West Nile. And our top defense experts predict another attack any day now.

To date, West Nile has killed six American humans. That’s six too many. The blame-America environmentalists refuse to allow a return to the good old days: the days of DDT and other industrial chemical weapons. They call these weapons cruel and dangerous.

That’s the point, pinkos. We kill enough of them so that they don’t mess with humans. If they didn’t want to vomit up their tiny, burning lungs, then they shouldn’t have started this war. We cannot afford to wait until they strike again–that doesn’t save lives. But preemptive attacks do save lives … well, ours.

… Except for the smaller animals. And children and the elderly. But small animals and children are animals, and this is a War on Animals. Elderly, we’ll miss you, but thank you for voting Republican.

If you do not support the War on Animals, then you are aiding the enemy. And that makes you a traitor.

How To: Unclasp a bra

If there’s any life lesson rarely passed along to children, it’s how to unclasp a bra … with, hopefully, dignity. Since parents don’t realize that kids already get the biological parts explained to them at school and in prison, they often skip the steps leading up to a home run. After all, there are three bases on the way to home plate and you have to touch each bag, and most batters will only reach second during their early careers. In order to fill this gap in your education, the Guys are stepping up to the coach’s corner.

Please note that this How To is not just for guys. We like to think this guide will also be helpful to lesbians and women dating transvestites.


  • Hands
  • Teeth
  • Derring-do


1. Locate the clasp of the bra. As sex is a death sport (see our future How To on avoiding the HIV), most of your introductory interaction is face-to-face, so you will need to fumble around the back for the tell-tale signs of a dorsal clasp: (a) an overlapping seam where the two straps meet, and (b) the hooks and latches, typically arrayed in 2 or 3 columns and rows.

If no such apparatuses (apparati?) are found, direct your probe to the front between the cups. If the bra is, indeed, front-clasping, then proceed to step 5.

2. Remember that bras are like Zippo lighters. The more panache you show in opening one, the more deserving you are of what’s inside (in both cases, fire). You must, therefore, attempt it one-handed before moving on to two-handed approaches.

a. Place your choice of index, middle, or both fingers between the clasp and skin.

b. Place your thumb over the clasp.

c. Apply pressure between your thumb and finger(s) and slide your thumb towards the seam. This motion is similar to a snapping motion, only without the embarrassment of looking like an extra from West Side Story.

d. Repeat only once if method fails. The only thing less sexy than ineptitude is persistent ineptitude.

3. Should step 2 fail, then you’ll have to resort to a two-handed method. There’s no shame, so long as you get this on the first try.

a. Grasp the bottom strap near the clasp with your thumb between the strap and skin.

b. Grasp the top strap immediately over the clasp.

c. Test the hooks lightly to make sure you won’t manhandle the operation, bear-hugging the wearer with underwire.

d. Slide the hooks out of the latches.

e. Do not repeat if method fails.

4. If the two-hand method fails, then resort to brute force. Sure, you’ll look like an idiot with a broken bra in your hands, but whoever said that Conan isn’t a stud?

a. Grasp each strap firmly in both hands.

b. Say a brief, private prayer. Wait, no. You’re probably committing a sin, so any prayer will be either ignored or answered with hilarious consequences.

c. Yank for all you’re worth.

d. Present the former wearer with a gift certificate to Victoria’s Secret afterwards. You’re a beast and a financially responsible provider.

5. Should the bra be fastened in the front, please say you didn’t try steps 1-4. If you did and step 4 worked, way to be. Otherwise, fold the bra between the cups inward to towards the wearer’s chest. Slide the interlaced hooks apart in opposing vertical motions.

Congratulations! Assuming this was consensual, you should now be the proud witness of a bare chest. For a how-to regarding third base, consult your local library’s self-help section. Happy belated Mammorial Day!

Take it from Snee: Apes still don’t talk

Once again, scientists are trying to prove apes can talk … by not actually teaching them to talk.

Sure, it’s great that Cornelius can recognize the symbols that give him treats, but that isn’t language. And just because this particular scientist talks to them “like he would speak to one of his children, or a longtime friend” does not mean they are conversing–it means he is on par with every cat lady in the world.

Of course Bonzo understands you, doc. It’s like he really listens and doesn’t just wait for you to stop talking so he can say whatever is on his mind. But that’s only because he can’t say what’s on his mind, which is probably just as well (“I want to masturbate again!”).

If language were merely correct vocabulary, we still could not communicate ideas to each other. Koko may have a tummy ache, but she can’t ask you if that diaper makes her look fat. Get the difference, yet?

Even this writer’s “interview with an ape” reads like someone explaining how Terry Schiavo was a functional human being, equating blinks as real communication. It started with the usual vocab test, then the reporter was stunned that the ape pressed the “surprise!” button when she was ready for food. This wasn’t language: it was the ape’s button for a hand-out. Get a job, Kanzi!

And perhaps that is why we strive to teach animals how to talk, in hope that someone will finally listen to us without argument. Take it from me: it’s like teaching a pig how to dance. It tires out the farmer and pisses off the pig.