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Useless Factoid Thursday

Here at sEa_sick, we pride ourselves on collecting, assimilating, collating, and harboring useless, nonsensical, and completely irrelevant information for dissemination at a mere moment's notice. While reading my fellow blog-buddy, Fab, I noticed that he was prepetuating a terrible untruth about our fellow earth inhabitors, Carcharadon, or the wily shark.

Many folks mistakenly believe that all sharks have to swim all the time, and while I would love to believe that there is one ABSOLUTE and undeniable truth in this universe, this is not the one. While sharks do need to continually move water over their gills as a form of respiration and oxygenation, they can do this while lying absolutely still and flexing their spiracles (don't try this at home without adult supervision or without consulting your doctor first). Not all sharks have spiracles and so must swim around to let lovely ocean water ripple sensually through their mutliple gill slits, but the nurse shark is a prime example of a spiracle-bearer. She can rest unmoving in caves, grottoes, swim-up bars, and right out on the sandy floor until some divers come along to spoil her oceanic dreams.

However, upon closer inspection, what we find is that this myth arose not from an oxygen standpoint, but from a sleep perspective. We assumed that since sharks swam arround most of the time, that they didn't sleep and HAD to move around for this whole respiration thangy. When, in fact, it has everything to do with the absence of the ever-important and mostly ignored, swim bladder. Most fishes possess a little internal balloon that can be handily filled with air, or lighter than water substances (helium is not recommended and rather hard to come by in pelagic conditions) in order to give them buoyancy so that they don't go sinking off into the depths when they want to rest their little fishy fins. Sharks, alas!, were out eating reckless swimmers and other flotsam the day that Darwin was handing out swim bladders and so, if not in shallow waters with tolerable atmospheric pressures, must swim, swim, swim.

And there, my faithful blog-populace, is the undoing of yet another slanderous shark myth. (AND, did you know that boy sharks have two, yes 2!, peniseseseses... woohoo!)

Damn the Luck

I did NOT win the cleavage contest, although I was in first place for a whole, like, uh, ... two hours??? But I don't photo well, and apparently neither do the hooters. Ye ol' ego is untouched by the affair, obviously MrFab's readers have no taste, bunch of wild-ass hooligans with a bald fetish if you ask me.

In future note to self, only cameo's and personal appearances by hooters.....

Reprise Priscilla et.al.

Many moons ago I moaned about my recurring run in with "Priscilla" my ever-friendly and gregarious oral fibre. Much to my chagrin, she has broadened her horizons and begun explorations of my gums and soft palate. It's all stress-functional.

Ya know, other people throw things, or throw up; cry maniacally; get hives; spin on the floor; whatever the chosen expression is when stress is sucking the life out of them. But me, vain ol' me - no, no, no, no, no, nooooooooooooo, nothing so plebian. I've got cold sores forming shanty towns on my soft palate and along the gum line of my molars, not to mention making brief reconnaissance missions in the rear guard of my tongue.

Too much info??? Yeah, well, you're here so might as well get comfortable. No doubt this is all sprung up from the recent break-ups. Ach....... what's an exciting life without a little oral discomfort to break up the rhythm???

On the Nature of Duality and Tea-Cup Puppies

He was SO cute and tiny and fragile. And I could see that he was hurt, but he was so supplicating. He licked my face and waggled his tail and errupted in delighted 'yurps' to be in my arms, but there was something distinctly wrong with him. So I rescued him, and we went to see the doctor. After the x-rays, the doctor told me that someone had performed an operation on this wee innocent fellow and had inserted an hand grenade into his body, "See there, what you thought was a wound is just a scar healing from the surgery. And his bulging tummy, that's not malnutrition although he could use a good meal or two."

And so it was, I stood there already loving this diminutive little puppy who just wanted to be my onliest and bestest buddy, trusting that I would love him and hug him and call him "George". The awful duality of his nature completely obscured to him but now boldly and awfully revealed to me. The doctor assured me that the grenade could go off at anytime, who knew when that pin would work itself free.

I took him anyway, but my love was tainted, fearful, watchful and frantically nervous.

That was the dream I had last night - I think it was the seminal truth of my just ended, but lingering, most recent relationship.

Hooter Pimping

Since I have so many adoring fans, I thought I would let you go over to Fab's place and play/vote in his most recent contest (and of course I am entered, but vote with your conscience....)

Yep, Yep....

I'm comin'.... don't worry... gonna post here real soon. Just got to let some things settle, but I'll have super-dooper juicy tidbits for all in a couple of days. Meanwhile just hang out and see if you can find your bliss.

A little help here?????

MrFab is having a contest and I'm gonna compete. AND, I'm going to WIN!!! But what I really need is an accomplice. Seems cleavage is the subject matter of said photo contest and I think I may need a photographer. Certainly I could use the timer on my li'l, ol' digi camera that takes crappy photos, or I could use the built-in on the Mac... but I bet there's gonna be some folks who are doin' some extra special stuff to their pics with Photoshop, and I just ain't got them kinda skills.

So please apply here....

Thank You for your Support **snork**

Crispy...

This is Polly... She loves to taste everything that I eat. Here she has crept over the bar to snack on some delightful Lays con Limon. Did I mention I am addicted to sour stuff... salt-n-vinegar crisps, buttermilk (don't make that Ewwwwwwwwwwww-face! If you had ever tasted the real stuff, you would think it mind-numbingly scrumptious as I do.), lime juice on virtually everything. So I am corrupting the birds tastebuds as we age along together. Pepper likes to have her very own spoonful of my very sour plain biotic yogurt in the mornings... picture at later date. Here's more Polly, in the fuzzy one I am trying rather pitifully to get a close up of the crisp-crumbs on her lips.

Better than a Buck with Dick Teeth

Catchy ain't it??? This after my little, weensy mum viewed a pic of a naked mole rat... thought I was gonna laugh off all three acres of my bubbling ass, I tell you! And so then a picture began to form.... yes, I see it coming clear for you now. I think I was just dating him.

Upheaval... Uh, kinda???

Writing juices, at least for me, flow best when oiled with the suffering of love lost. I started this blog 4 years ago when a certain fella did me wrong, and it flourished in the fertile arena of my self-recrimination, introspection, and vapid self-loathing.

Well here we are again. But with any luck I have come a fer piece since then and will weather this breaky-breaky with a touch more self-respect and sense of reality. I sincerely hope that a welter of pugnacious prose, whimsical witticisms, and insipid introspection will undulate onto these pages fom my philosophical phalanges (along with a bit of alliteration for good measure.... ooooooo, I makey me laugh big hardy har....)

In addition I hope there will be some site reconstruction to recreate the watery environs that are so comforting.... graced, of course, with lots an' lots o pictures of me.

Dorkulus Dingleus Maximoos

I discovered this from a year back (my how time flies) and thought it deserved a viewing (some of the content will be outdated but nonetheless so enthralling....):


Right so I went to Austin, had Christmas, took pictures, started a new semester and still haven't posted. Yeesh - what a lame-o, but here I is now.

To backtrack:

In December, after finals, I went to Austin to visit with my friend, Jeff. Yes, he is maniacal and he looks the same as he did 17 years ago when last I saw him. We have been friends since, hmmmmm, ummmmmm, well I had just graduated undergrad and he was finishing a master's. Many eons ago. This is his friendly face...

He doesn't live in Austin, was there for a "conference" (a-hem, you executive types with your retreats and ass-kissing seminars) and so we decided that the true meaning of conference was "play". And we played.

First we went to Coyote Ugly where the girls are whores, the bartenders are whores with an attitude, and the men are just plain gibbering droolers. And there it was decreed that the whiskey and Kamikaze's should flow as a wild, untamed river - directly down our gullets (to use an "Ugly" appropriate anatomical reference. We woved the street of 6th and ended up in many a-drinking establishment.

We were here, and this is Shabnam, the miniscule Hebraic girl. Notice the drink which is only a lowball and how ginormous it is in relation to our little Jewish Princess. Also note the grins caused by just holding said glasses - funny how that happens down ther in that Austintown. And as complement to her minisculality, Shabnam was very proud of what can only be identified as the rare and shaking Gluteus Minimus Extremis. I was obliged to snap away with promises that her lack of beutoccal substance would make it onto the pages of this illustrious publication.



Needless to say, after the hiney shenanigans, many were drawn, as a moth to a magnet, to the dazzling glitter of my shutter and so there ensued many poses by fellow revelers...

Well, I'll Swan...

Seems Blogger and Yahoo! made a few administrative changes and I didn't get the memo. Nevertheless, my blog is now NOT very watery and that will have to be rectified. So given some time, some vehement swearing, and some fun with the new Apple, I may just get everything back or better. Hang in, 'cause I know Y'all can hardly stand a moment away from this scintillating blog-O.

Pursed Birdie Lips

enjoy this little fascist bathtime animation - the tune is infectious