I have spent my whole life ignoring astrology and horoscopes so I was not aware of the buzz last week that the signs of the zodiac had changed. I imagine this will have a serious impact on people who make money telling others how to live their lives based on stars--considering that they have been giving the wrong advice this entire time. My experience with horoscopes is that they give such general information anyway that they are subject to a wide range of interpretation, so people will probably get over their astrological trauma rather quickly.
As I investigated the change, two points jumped out at me:
The new, 13th sign, is that of Ophiuchus, a naked man tugging on his snake (see above). Lucky you if you were born in early December; remember to wash daily to prevent scaly crack.
America has an abundance of natural gas and we will continue to have an abundant gas supply as long as we have vegans and/or beer. I haven't even accounted for all of the bad gas coming out of Washington these days . . .
The problem is not a lack of natural resources, it is a lack of knowledge of how best to use those resources.
I follow a member of the Typepad Community, MamaPop Sparkle Motion (click link above), so occasionally I see things that get posted there. This one cracked me up. The things people will do for money . . .
My wife has it tough. She is the only woman in a house of three guys. Even our dog and our fish are male.
Last week we came home to a report from her grandfather that the house had been invaded by flies. He had killed a dozen and a dozen more were resting on walls around the house. When she asked, "Where are they coming from?" I jokingly replied, "Check the dead body." It turns out I wasn't too far off.
While we did not actually have a dead body, something was rotten. Apparently, one of us guys had started a science project and it wasn't me. A bag of potatoes had been hidden in a dark place for a very long time. They had not just rotted, they had begun to liquefy.
Aside: If you are going to conduct a science experiment, you should remember to keep a "control" specimen and you should check on your experiment periodically to measure progress. Apparently, our closet scientist had done neither. I suppose I should be glad it wasn't sitting in a closet soaking into the carpet. End of aside.
My wife asked why the flies seemed so slow. I told her that I thought they were drunk on potato whiskey. The rotting vegetable liquefaction must have fermented, because our host of flies was surprisingly easy to kill. These desperate houseflies lived their short lifespans drinking and reproducing--just like the TV show of a similar name.
With the brown potato sludge removed, the war of the flies was easily won. Having no rotting host body to infest with their larva, the invaders could not sustain their army of slow moving drunken pests. As an added bonus, our pantry no longer smells like death. I guess that makes me "Lord of the Flies."
Original concept (below) was simply a "Drunk-N-Fly" guy. He was quickly replaced with the above Desperate Housefly when I thought of the title.