Researchers spend countless hours every year observing animals to try to understand how they communicate. And aside from a few bird owners, no one has bothered trying to teach animals how to talk like us. Until now.
Wikie the orca has learned how to imitate certain sounds, including the word “Hello.” Researchers say they taught the beast how to say a few different words to demonstrate the species’ mimicking abilities. Of course, they forgot that they were teaching English to freaking killer whales. Once they know what we’re saying, there’s no doubt they will use it against us. The only consolation we have is that Wikie lives in an aquarium in France, where her skills won’t be of much use.
The up side is that Wikie was also taught how to mimic fart noises incredibly well.
No one really likes the French. They’re smelly, lilly-livered and rude. My parents visited France this summer, and while they say that they never experienced any of the negative stereotypes, I don’t believe them. France is a bunch of jerks.
And they’ve decided to make this known to the world, or potentially, just to Italy. A 5-meter-tall statue of Zinedine Zidane (surprisingly not a Final Fantasy character) headbutting an Italian soccer player in the 2006 World Cup final has debuted in Paris.
No one knows why the statue has been created, as Algerian artist Adel Abdesseme, creator of it, hasn’t said why it was made or who commissioned it. In the meantime, we can only assume do-ins are afoot.
A prophylactics company has not been able to contain the spunk of a city in France. Citizens of Condom, France have won their case against “The Original Condom Company,” a condoms-maker that markets itself as being from the town. However, the company’s address is to a vacant lot, while the real magic happens in Malaysia. (Ma-LAY-sia. Get it? … But, seriously, they’re not made in France, so that’s false advertising.)
This does not mean the town of Condom is off the hook, though. They’re still Condom, so they’re the butt of English language jokes, and they’re le derrière of French language jokes because the town is on the Baise river, which means “f%#k.”
Say what you want about we A-mur-icans, but at least we generally have the courtesy to not drink on the job unless we’re paid to do so. Or, it makes us more efficient and effective in our work, one or the other.
France? Not so much allegedly for their riot cops.
That’s right, French riot cops are upset that they’re not being allowed to drink while on duty. Right, the muscular cops that wield heavy-duty billy clubs, tear gas grenades and full-time kevlar vests are apparently having a tiff that they can’t have a glass of wine or beer while having a lunch during their shift. While there’s no correlation between police officers and alcohol problems, this move can probably help out with their currently less than sparkling public image. Not that there haven’t been loopholes before:
According to French law alcohol is banned while employees are at work – with the exception of “wine, beer, apple cider and pear cider”.
While this could be the equivalent of cultural shift of sorts, it’d be like banning all types of meat, except beef, pork, chicken, turkey, lamb and other forms of consumption that bleed.
Warrior Readers, The Guys have done you a disservice all these years. We’ve warned you about animals, aliens, robots and education, but we overlooked one of the gravest threats to humanity: the humanities. Namely: art.
We’re not sure how we missed it. Maybe it’s because those artist types are so non-threatening with their berets and soul patches. But, make no mistake: given the chance, an artist will submerge your family, friends and divine creator into his own urine.
Fortunately, the French have shown us how to fight back. They have seen Andres Serrano’s Piss Christ and–in response–gotten more done in mere days than what U.S. Republicans have attempted for the past 22 years.
The Visitors (or Les Visiteurs) begins in the 12th century, in swashbuckling style, as a knight saves the king’s life and is rewarded with the hand of his daughter. Alas, a magician’s potion so addles the knight that he then mistakes the king for a bear and slays him. Having killed the king, he can hardly marry the daughter, and so he pledges that he will never marry; small consolation, but it’s the thought that counts.
So opens the most popular film in French history, the film that out-grossed Jurassic Park and left Frenchmen helpless with laughter. Nearly 18 years after it was made, I can see why. Well, for the most part. Continue reading MasterChugs Theater: ‘Les Visiteurs/The Visitors’
It’s Friday, so how’s about we phone in a classic: ridiculing the French? (We like using French words, like “ridicule” against them.)
If you’re looking for lunch money and don’t mind wiping mime make-up off your knuckles or their goofy Monopoly dollars, then France is the place to go. It’s a country entirely untouched by Charles Atlas; only 5.4 percent belong to fitness clubs.
(And we all know that only 10 percent of members at any fitness club actually go to the gym after joining.)
Despite the best efforts by fitness companies to export manorexia, the French have resisted, making it the first time they’ve done so without U.S. support. Instead, they prefer to model themselves after the goth kids by drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes in a cafe.
You know what sucks about wine, other than the high prices, snooty people who drink it, stains on your teeth and headaches? You can’t pour your own bottle of it.
Well, that is to say you used to not be able to pour your own bottle of it. In France (of course), they now have machines in supermarkets where you can fill up a container with a tap much the way you would a glass of beer from a keg, and it measures how much you pour like a gas pump. These machines could be hitting stores in the U.S. of A. in a year.
Be the first on your block to do a wine stand!
One of the biggest ongoing political debates in this country is that of immigrants, their legal status and whether they are responsible for crime.
The side portrayed by Arizona Gov. Jan Brewer and her supporters is that illegal Mexicans and other illegal Latin American immigrants have turned her state into “the gateway to America for drug trafficking, extortion, kidnapping and crime.”
In response, it’s time to crack down on anyone suspicious, whether they worship a funny invisible god with an aversion to caricature artists, or they refuse to wear their immigration papers on their necks with their rabies licenses.
After all, when you’re in America, you better damn well act like a French president?
On Friday morning, Tony Kornheiser sarcastically alluded that the French dream was to go into prostitution and save up the money for a beauty parlor. If this humorous joke is true, then the French johns are going about it all the wrong way. Currency? Legal tender? That’s for chumps. They need to follow John Johnson Jr.’s example and instead pay for lovin’ with candy.
Johnson, a jail nurse, is being accused of assaulting seven female inmates. How did he keep them quiet? He used the same items that women have fallen for ever since the beginning of time-candy and soda.
We can only assume that the incredibly low standards of the inmates eventually rose up when he mistakenly approached a livabetic diabetic prisoner about a deal.