Get out your hippie skirts and aerosol cans: it’s time to dance amongst the tree trunks in deforested plains and skinny dip in the aquatic dead zones. We’re celebrating because this is the dawning of the age of the Anthropocence, age of the Anthropocene. Anthropo-ceeeeeeeeene! An-throoooo-po-ceeeeeeeeeeene!
The American Association for the Advancement of Science, along with astronaut and associate administrator for science at NASA John Grunsfeld, have coined the term for our current era. It is based on the period of time where humanity has directly impacted the climate, ozone, nitrogen and phosphorous cycles, oceans, endocrine disruptors and forests — all of which is now observable from space.
So, congratulations, humans! We’ve made our mark! Eat it, Holocene Period! You can go pound sedentary with those loser Pleistocenes!
Hey, just in case you forgot: today is Valentine’s Day. So, you’d better dig your car out of the ice and snow, get to the store and pick out the best of what’s left of flowers and cards at the grocery store or you will be divorced — f*cking di-vorced (NSFW) — by sundown.
Unless you’re in Virginia. A federal judge has thoughtfully destroyed all marriage in the commonwealth by ruling that the Marshall-Newman Amendment — the 2006 state constitutional amendment that defines it as solely being between a man and a woman and bans any form of same-sex marriage — is federally unconstitutional.
So, kick back and relax, men. Because if U.S. District Judge Arenda Wright Allen’s ruling is upheld on appeal, you’ll legally have to marry a dude. That’s how laws work.
I think we can now put the 2013 Python Challenge to rest. Some of you might say that we could have put the 2013 Python Challenge to rest at the end of December 31st, 2013. To those of you, we say this: vigilance never ends.
It’s been a long and arduous search, but ladies and gentlemen, we did it. From the honkiest sections of Idaho to the meth-filled sections of Florida, we’ve finally pinpointed the lamest adults ever. Those that forgot their time as kids, those that pimped out their childhood, those that sold out their memories.
That’s not just SG giving you the good work. No, Pennsylvania State Police are saying that a spider distracted driver Alek Tarr while he was behind the wheel of a 2004 Pontiac Grand Prix (side note: nothing good ever happens in a Pontiac Grand Prix). The arachnid, presumably trying to assassinate Tarr for some reason or another, was spotted, causing Tarr to take the car off the road and eventually spin out of control. Somehow, both Tarr and his passenger made it out of the crash without an injury. If there’s any justice on this planet, the spider will have made it out of the accident unhurt as well, if only so that it can have its day in court.
The hot, sweaty book club for Fifty Shades of Grey is bigger than we thought. There at least 166 previously unknown members, and they’re all locked up in Gitmo.
On a recent visit to the Guantanamo detention camp, U.S. Rep. Jim Moran, D-Va., claims to have discovered that the most popular book among the inmates is not the Koran, but the entire Fifty Shades trilogy. So, they’re sort of like Christians who claim that the Bible is their favorite book.
If we hope to ever end the War on Terror, this may be a sure sign that Western hedonism has won the day. That, or over 10 years of indefinite imprisonment and “enhanced interrogations” has turned what were potentially America’s greatest threat into BDSM enthusiasts.
New York City managed to have a red letter day, as in no red letters were spelled out in blood on their many sidewalks or studio-apartment hardwood floors. That’s right: New Yorkers managed to not kill each other for an entire 36 consecutive hours, which police are calling “a case of that one Monday.”
Nobody is entirely sure why NYC’s assassins took a Senior Skip Day, but it is part of an overall trend of decreasing violent crime nationwide. Still, for 8 million people who presumably relive Seinfeld every damn day, it’s commendable that not one took a Festivus pole to their group’s George. (Or smelly cat to their Phoebe if you grew up on Friends.)
Of course, like all good things, this, too, had to end. By Tuesday morning, the city’s last nerve was trampled, ending in a good ol’ fashioned shooting. Oh, and Lindsay Lohan slapped somebody.
So, if you’ve been waiting for a safe time to visit the Big Apple, that train has re-derailed. It was a good run, everybody!
Zac Vawter just climbed 103 flights of stairs, and, boy, are his servos tired!
Vawter just successfully used a thought-controlled prosthetic leg to complete the SkyRise Chicago fundraising event in Willis Tower. His new limb, designed by various universities and the U.S. Army’s Telemedicine and Advanced Technology Research Center, allowed Vawter to scale 103 flights of stairs with 3,000 other climbers. And, unlike the prosthetics we saw at the Summer Olympics, this one actually moves and reacts to Vawter’s mental commands like a real limb or Luke Skywalker’s hand.
And, maybe next time, they’ll let him take the elevator.
If there’s one thing the Guys love, it’s freshly baked pizza. But, every rose has its thorn and every bagel bite has its scalding tomato sauce, just like how every cowboy sings sad, indecipherable song through stuffed crust and oral blisters.
Jason McConville knows our pain and will eradicate it with his knowledge as a professor of pharmaceutical sciences. He has modified a breath strip to deliver benzocaine, a common local anesthetic, to the scorched area. He claims that it will help speed up healing, which is already pretty fast in the mouth, and that the strip will not impair your voice as it dissolves.
So, thanks, Dr. McConville, because when pizza’s on a bagel, now we can finally eat pizza any time. Even straight out of the oven.
Four over four decades, the Magic Kingdom at Disney World in Florida has stood as a bastion of sobriety. But today, friends, we hoist a glass in victory.
Beer and wine will soon be served at the Happiest Place on Earth, which may now actually live up to it’s name. But let’s not celebrate too early, we still need to open Mickey’s door to our ally, liquor. It only makes sense, what have the pirates of the Caribbean been drinking all this time on their ride of the same name?