invasion of the laurel-crocodile hybrids

March 20, 2009 at 2:34 pm (i promise i was not drunk when i wrote this, weirdness abounds)

Today someone came and got the larval jabberwocky that have been living in my apartment walls for about a month and it turned out they were actually just one really fat squirrel, which sorta explains why that “drunk” squirrel has been haunting me recently. Obviously I’ve been targeted by some international squirrel conspiracy and I’m under 24 hour squirrel surveillance. Well, screw you, squirrel dudes! What will you do now, huh? The exterminator guy said he was going to drive out five miles and then release you back into the wild, what are you going to do about that?? All I know is that now my cats will have to find a new reason to stare at the walls and freak me out.

In other news, there are mutant trees on my campus. Exhibit A:
A nice, normal laurel bush, right? Well, observe Exhibit B:
I’m not sure if this picture does it justice but those sure look like crocodile hands to me! And they are growing out of the tree!! Now, I’m not a plant person and I’m much too lazy to look it up, but this does not seem normal. So what we have on our hands is a laurel-croc hybrid! Scourge of campuses everywhere or at least mine! And by scourge I mean no one has noticed it but me. But that’s just how I roll- I’m always looking out for you people, watching for monsters.

Speaking of clueless masses, I’d like to address my coworker…

Dear AlphaTroll,
We are not friends. You called me a narrow-minded bitch and said that everyone in lab hated me when I told you it was not cool to make people cry, so stop acting like we’re all cool now because if this grackle represents how I normally feel about you:
then this is how I feel when you act like we’re buddies all the sudden:

My emotions get all pissed and fluffed out in anger. Suck it. Mostly, though, I just keeping thinking “two and a half more months until I’m gone and you’re screwed!” so suck it some more.

By the way, for all you doubting Dennises (i.e. MY DAD) I totally take all the weird ass pictures you see on my blog, be they enraged grackels, drunk squirrels, or operatic turtles. Just so you know.

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Squirrel behavior, part 2- the scientific method

March 16, 2009 at 10:18 pm (animal behavior, i promise i was not drunk when i wrote this, insomnia, jinxing myself, simply flabbergasted, weirdness abounds)

We all know I loves me some science, as long as rat vaginas are not directly involved. Last week I posited the question, “what is this squirrel thinking?” and it turns out the correct answer was given by Kurt: “I think he’s plowed on fermented berries and is telling the tree “NO! No! I LOVE you, Man!!”.” This conclusion has since been supported by the following evidence.

This is normal squirrel behavior:
img_0821bShe’s* all “oh, hey, look, I’m a squirrel and I am foraging, looking all cute and stuff! If you are a scientist, back the fuck off! I know what you guys do in that lab of yours, you perverts!” You know, normal squirrel behavior.

This is how I found crazy squirrel the other day:
This is an instance of scientific observation that can only be described as “What the fuck??” I have been watching campus squirrels for almost 10 years now (sigh) and I have never seen crazy hangover-type behavior like this before. Oh, and he’s not dead- soon after I took this shot, he moved into a hole in the tree and proceeded to watch me, all creepy-drunk-peeping-tom-squirrel style:

So we can see that someone has been partying way too hard without inviting me, which is totally uncool because I had to molest many, many rats today and if anyone needs a drink, it’s me.  That or possibly that is an anti-gravity tree so he’s hanging on for dear life, and only barely made it to the hole before flying off into space. That’s how science works, people, you gotta examine all the possibilities.

Moral of the story? Not only do we have to watch out for scary jabberwocky trees, but also anti gravity trees and/or trees filled with hungover squirrels. It seems like trees were much safer when I was a kid and all they did was fling me to the ground at high rates of speed. I’m pretty sure my cocyx got broken once, but I never had to be on the lookout for drunk rodents! Also, while we’re on the subject of stuff and being old**, how come stuff takes so long now?? For example, it apparently has taken me 30 minutes to write this blog! I did have to adjust the pictures from their original 290844789 pixel size to something that wouldn’t crush the interwebs, but still, 30 minutes?!? And holy crap, studying takes me more time now, too! I’m brushing up*** on my physics for this massive test you have to take to be a science teacher in Texas, and it took me all night to read three chapters. Three chapters of easy stuff that I already know. How the hell did I do this in college??

Oh, right. I didn’t bother reading in college. Also I didn’t have a full time job. Also my brain wasn’t all higgedly-piggedly and in need of antidepressants. Also I have to get lots of sleep now in order to be fresh enough to face work and its crazies (including, yes, the rat vaginas. Don’t act like you didn’t want to hear about them again!), wheras in college as long as I got 5 hours I was just fine. Well, suck it. I don’t know who needs to suck it, specifically, but surely someone is in dire need of a good “suck it!”

I’m so tired. So many rat vaginas await me in the morning…

Time for sleep…

*It’s very easy to tell if a squirrel is a boy or girl. As Dr. FianceHusband puts it, the boys carry around an “air conditioning unit.” Seriously, their balls are bigger than their heads. Evolution- go figure!

**Old = 27 in my case = maybe I’m just lame.

***Brushing up = poking the brain cells that already know this stuff but went into hybernation once they figured out they were not needed for grad school. Hopefully the massive amounts of drinking I did in grad school did not kill those brain cells ’cause I need them now. Otherwise I might as well find myself a nice tree hole to live in and stock up on the rum!****

****That’s right, I will be teaching children soon (assuming I pass this test). I think now is a good time to look into homeschooling.

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I honestly don't know what is going on in my brain when I'm not paying attention

February 19, 2009 at 10:46 am (i promise i was not drunk when i wrote this, life in general, thoughts and musings)

These thoughts have been fluttering through my mind recently. Obviously it’s time to consider a lobotomy.

-I’m going to start calling the boy Dr. FianceHusband on this blog, because I’ve been reading other blogs where “the boy” refers to a kid and it creeps me out that people who write stuff on those blogs might read this blog and think I enjoy making out with or throwing things at children. GROSS. Except the throwing stuff at kids part, and then only when they really deserve it, like when they kick you in the shins first. Also calling him Dr. FianceHusband makes me thing of Dr. Girlfriend from The Venture Brothers which we all know is super awesome. Dr. FianceHusband isn’t actually a doctor of anything but he’s way smarter than me which means he is light years ahead of some doctoral students I know, and on a completely different planet, intellectually, than some premed students I know so I consider it close enough. Also he is Dr. FianceHusband because we’ve been engaged for three years now, with no wedding day in sight, but in Texas if you declare you are married to someone for six months than it becomes true. I don’t know how I feel about that, hence me awkwardly calling him fiance, husband, boyfriend, or that guy, depending on my mood.

-I just found out there is an application for my phone that turns it into a vibrator. Gross and dumb. That thing goes on your head, people, as in very close to your nose. And there are way cheaper “toys” (because technically vibrators are illegal in Texas! Because this state is awesome! By which I mean sorta dumb!) out there. But the real lesson here? Never buy a used version of my phone!

-I keep being involved in conversations in which someone inevitably ends up saying something along the lines of “what do they want, some dumb blonde with big tits?” As in, “my brother only dates dumb girls, but I don’t need some blonde with big tits” or “everyone is always surprised that I’m a pole dancer, I guess they expect them all to be ditzy blondes with big tits.” PEOPLE! I am blonde and have a massive rack! And yet, apparently against all evidence out there, I am not dumb and/or ditzy! So suck it! Stop the stereotyping! I happen to know many blonde ladies with breasts who are all super smart. This may come as a shock, but we don’t think with our breasts and hair color actually has nothing to do with intelligence. Also, seriously, can you not see me when we are having these conversations? Also, whenever people say stuff like that I automatically assume they have tiny, frightened sex organs.*

-Since when did it become ok to spell it “blond” and not “blonde?”

-I often wonder if people think I am trying to grope them when I reach over them to pull the cord on the bus. I also wonder if people fart on their seats just as they get up, knowing that I’m on my way to claim their recently vacated spot.

-People who don’t understand the endocrine system make me giggle. For example: Gary Busey said, and I quote, “I’ll pull your endocrine system out of your body.” That is awesome and completely impossible because the “system” in not actually connected, that’s sorta the point of hormones. Perhaps he meant reproductive system? Or perhaps he is simply bat shit crazy?

-I wonder where the term “bat shit crazy” came from. Does it have something to do with parasites in guano? That would make sense, but I’m too lazy to google it.

-Two pairs of my jeans now have worn patches (holes!) in the left knee. This is from me sitting cross legged in my chair at work and being too cheap to buy “good” (read: not so thin and crappy that holes pop into existence when you sit cross legged in them) jeans. I’m worried, though, that people will assume it’s from something dirty that involves being on my knees (or rather, knee, since the right one is not holey. What’s up with that?), an assumption that is not helped by the fact that I am blonde with gargantuan breasts (but see above, please). I think I need to wear a sign that says “hey! that hole in my jeans is from sitting weirdly in my chair at work! Not what you’re thinking!” except that probably no one else thinks like I think they think but then they’d see the sign and be suspicious.

These thoughts keep me up at night, people. Unless I’ve taken several antihistamines, in which case I fall asleep so hard that I don’t even notice when one of cats jumps on my face so violently that I end up with an awesomely huge scratch right across the bridge of my nose.**

*That’s called irony, people. Or something. Whatever, suck it. Also I totally know the people who say stuff like that are totally jealous.

**I totally have a massively huge scratch on the bridge of my nose right now.

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(resigned sigh)

February 15, 2009 at 9:23 pm (art?, i promise i was not drunk when i wrote this, just pure awesome, life in general, reality is not for me, work shmork)

I don’t want to go to work tomorrow. If I had to pick any tree in the world to represent how I would personify work as a tree, it would be this tree I saw while hiking today:
Scary jabberwocky tree!! What, you don’t see it? Well, good thing you have me here, looking out for you! Here is how to spot a scary ass jabberwocky tree:

Do you see him now? Lewis Carroll’s jabberwocky ain’t got nothing on scary ass jabberwocky trees, indigenous to Austin with appetites for small dogs and blue cars. Or maybe the Jabberwocky of Alice got really tired and became a tree? Alas, the world may never know. But I still have to go to work tomorrow. Bah!

In other news here is a peacock!
Holy crap! I didn’t notice until I started importing this picture for my blog but that bird is giving me the freaking stink eye! How rude! Maybe he could smell the jabberwocky tree on me, because maybe peacocks are the only line of defense between us and monster trees so this guy was getting all riled up with anger. Or maybe peacocks are just jerks. I means, look at this crazy girl:

Sure, she’s pretty and obviously knows it, but what is going on here? I’ve been to this park and observed (read: chased around with a camera) the peafowl for many years, and I’ve never seen a female get all riled up and crazy like this. And what was here problem, you ask? A mighty terrifying sight:

NO! It’s just a freakin’ dove! Crazy bird!

(Ok, so the biologist side of me is forcing me to point out that she was just making sure her chick got to eat before the dove stole the food that was put down, but in all fairness even the chick was bigger than both of my cats put together, so give the poor little dove a break, you jerk bird!)

And some how I am still reminded of work…

In other, other news, I found another fabulous blog to obsess over!!

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Happy International Technician Week!!

February 4, 2009 at 5:57 pm (i promise i was not drunk when i wrote this, jinxing myself, lessons in troll avoidance, life in general, work shmork)

So this week is apparently International Tech Week! As in, science and animal techs, not computer- you computer tech folks get paid waaaaay more than us science techs, so no week for you. It’s like in high school when I got all these lame achievement awards, but none of them came with scholarship money and they all came too late for college applications. Be glad you get more money rather than a week that no one will really notice, computer techs!

So, have you given your lab tech a break today? We bust our gonads for you academics while having to sit back and let you take all the credit, and be the brunt of all grad student freak outs, all so we can pay our damn student loans. The phrase “grin and bare it” does not even begin to cover it.

Oh, and I’d like to take this opportunity to thank the crazy student in my lab who has inspired me to continue my job search! I was almost comfortable in my position, I even have a really good relationship with my boss now, but you opened my eyes to the reality that I will never be fully accepted in this lab, which is fine. I didn’t get nearly $100,000 in debt to spend my life struggling to get by financially while dealing with fragile egos and defending students who shouldn’t be treated so badly in the first place. So thank you, thank you so much! Also, don’t rant on my blog, get your own, please. Read the disclaimer if you are confused.

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oh, those evil corporations know me so well…

January 18, 2009 at 11:42 am (i promise i was not drunk when i wrote this, just pure awesome, life in general)

I know it’s a total ploy to get me to buy stuff from them, but an email from a computer company I love included an add that makes me love them more, because it included this:


Seriously. Little has made me happier recently. Hooray for everyone!

PS. My job is slowly killing me. Stupid rat dander is causing me to fill up slowly with snot, the inevitable conclusion being that I will probably drown in it. Yum.

PPS. Telling people that you are not crazy when you post comments on their blogs probably makes them think that you are, in fact, crazy. Not that people do that to me, but I do that to people all them time. Ah, well. It’s probably true.

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new year awesomeness

January 1, 2009 at 1:35 am (i promise i was not drunk when i wrote this, just pure awesome, um...)

an epic tale of a random cat toy and vintage barbie wigs…

One day, a mouse was just hanging out, wondering how he could become more successful with the ladies and in his business affairs.

I know, he thought, I just need a good hairpiece!

Oooooh yeah! Right away the ladies started taking notice.

“Oh, why hello, pretty mouse! Can I give you my number?”

img_02331“Of course, baby, let me just put your number into my phone…”

And then they lived happily ever after. The end. Until I find more wigs.

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