The answer is an emphatic no.

The rule is: vermin are permitted, but they have to be smaller than your pinkie fingernail (and non-toxic).

In social situations, rodents (mice, rats and voles especially) can be quite off-putting, if only because they eat the tasty creatures that can make for a nice grooming session.

Quite often I’ll get together with General Coco and Major Bonzo, and our respective spouses; once Major Bonzo had a swarm of killer bees hiding in his goatee, and this was a real damper on the evening. (He was a colonel before this incident.)

Next week: My spouse has mutated into a 12-foot Gila monster. How should I introduce him at social occasions?

Humor-blogs.com is rife with gila monsters. Alltop has a iguana problem.

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But wait, Ze has found a way to write those cringing, polite emails without a Vesuvius of Rage building inside your brain. Just mentally replace the punctuation with your own set of phrases that will make you feel like you’re saying what you really mean. Click on the image or here to go see Ze’s (older but still funny) presentation:

Everyone always says what they mean at humor-blogs.com and alltop too.

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According to researchers at McGill University in Montreal, Canada, a hormone secreted by the stomach can cause junkie-like behavior when you see food.

Pizza? Score! Chicken wings? Groovy! Chocolate cake? Drop that man!

The guilty culprit is not your lack of willpower, it’s the hormone ghrelin, which is made in your stomach. As you get hungry, ghrelin levels rise and when you’ve eaten, they wane. In the study, volunteers were given a shot of ghrelin and then shown pictures of scrumptious, irresistible food. Their brains lit up just like a junkie’s.

Alain Dagher, a neurologist at McGill, says this is probably an evolutionary mechanism that encouraged our distant ancestors to bulk up on tasty calories whenever they had a chance (which probably wasn’t very often.) Fast forward a few thousand years, to the Era of Addictive Chicken, and this spells an obesity epidemic.

According to the New Scientist: “Several pharmaceutical companies already have their sights set on ghrelin, as drugs that block the hormone may quell hunger and fight obesity.”

The problem? If you turn off the hormone, it may affect other parts of your brain. Like, the segment of your cerebellum that makes you happy. The part that prevents you from falling into a deep, sponge-cake-like depression. And then killing yourself.

So, a danger of suicide, but at least you wouldn’t be fat anymore.

Humor-blogs.com is hopped up on laughter. Alltop too.

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This is a project that is long overdue, and with any luck, we will have more luck finding intelligence than SETI.

The SETI movement was energized in the 1960s by Dr. Frank Drake, when he came up with an equation to estimate the number of extraterrestrial civilizations in our galaxy. Now, I’d like to (modestly) propose we use his equation to estimate the number of intelligent website we may be able to find on the net.

The Drake “equation” states that:

n= the total number of intelligent sites out there
R* is the rate of website formation on the Internet
fp is the fraction of those websites that have weblogs
ne is average number of weblogs which can potentially support coherent thought
fl is the fraction of the above which actually go on to demonstrate coherent thought
fi is the fraction of the above which actually go on to show a sense of humor as well
fc is the fraction of the above which are willing and able to communicate
L is the expected lifetime of such an intelligent website.

Yes, some may argue that looking for coherent thought on a weblog is misguided, but I believe it’s our best shot.

Prove me wrong.

No doubt some boffins will now take this flash of brilliance, and give us a script to help us figure it out in real time. However, let me give you my best guess:

6 million new websites each year
X .5 (% with weblogs)
X .5 (% capable of supporting coherent thought)
X .001 (% demonstrating coherent thought)
X .001 (% showing a sense of humor)
X .6 (willing and able to communicate)
X 3 (lifetime of website, in months)
= 2.7

Hmm. Well, if I assume The Skwib is one of the 2.7, then who are the other 1.7? My guess is that they’ll be found on humor-blogs.com or perhaps alltop. Hey, you can’t argue with this, this is science!

Obligatory link to Wikipedia article on the Drake Equation, if you’d like to know what those things really stand for. Thanks to Garette for the toothy alien.

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Continued from Prehistory 1.1…

But being eaten was not the only worry. It was the major worry (apart from starving to
death), but eventually the weather started to get a bit cooler, and early humans started to think about
other things …

At this point, Homo erectus had finally achieved their goal of a much less amusing species name, and they became two different species, Homo neanderthalensis (or Neanderthals) and Homo sapiens.

The Neanderthals immediately started to improve on Ahk-ahk’s early “thing” technology, coming up with all kinds of intriguing designs, including a tool that “slices, dices and makes julienne mammoth!” Though the Neanderthals have been characterized as squat, hairy and unsophisticated, they greatly improved tool technology with what paleontologists now call the Mousterian Tradition. How such squat and hairy humans came up with the unsophisticated idea of using mice in the
creation of stone tools, we may never know; those paleontologists are a secretive group.

The Neanderthals were out-competed by Homo sapiens, and though their final fate remains a mystery, it appears as though they disappeared about 30,000-25,000 years ago. It has been suggested that Neanderthals did breed with Homo sapiens, the proof of which is the existence of otherwise modern humans with uni-brows.

While the unfortunate and soon-to-be extinct Neanderthals were happy with their mousedriven stone technology, modern humans continued to tinker with things, coming up with greater and more creative inventions. They made fine blades, harpoons, fish hooks, needles, and even created oil lamps. Paleontologists believe modern humans were forced to improve their technology because of the increasingly severe Ice Age. This is only partially true. Certainly, it was getting much colder, but much of the technological innovation was driven by a lack of beard-grooming implements.

Humans also started to create art at this time:

This flourishing of culture had unfortunate consequences too, leading the new species to experiment with drugs, find religion and start objectifying women, sometimes all in one go:

Next: The New Rock Age: Your Era at Work!

Also posted at humor-blogs.com and alltop.

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Roughly speaking, human prehistory is divided into three ages: The Stone Age, The Bronze Age, and The Iron Age (although amongst golfers this is known as The Difficult Short Game Age).

1. The Stone Age — Thag Do Invention!

The Paleolithic

In a similar fashion, The Stone Age is usually subdivided into three eras — the Paleolithic, the Esoteric and the Neolithic. Some paleontologists call the Esoteric the Mesolithic, or Middle Stone Age; like all middle children it is usually overlooked, but it was nevertheless the period after the Paleolithic and before the Neolithic.

The Paleolithic Age, or literally Old Age of the Stone, is the period we usually now associate with Disco, but actually predates the Seventies by up to a million years. (Though hairy chests were fashionable in both eras.)

In the Paleolithic, early humans were hominids we now call Homo erectus, and had few tools (apart from PowerPoint). In addition to inventing tools, these primitive ancestors worked hard to evolve into the species we are today, not only because their lives were unpleasant, dangerous, and filled with nasty smells, but also because they couldn’t stand it when other animals made fun of their name.

The first major achievement of Homo erectus (stop that) was stone tools. At first, the tools they used were really no more than rocks they found lying around the mosh pit (few paleontologists are willing to admit that Homo erectus were committed slam dancers), but soon they discovered that rock could be shaped.

Homo erectus continued in this upright fashion for some time, slowly improving their “whacking” technique until they could fashion all kinds of tools — stone axes, knives and eventually arrow points. They became proficient hunters, but even with sharp “things” they found eating raw meat a major challenge to their erectness. (It’s tough to stand up straight when you’re experiencing abdominal cramping.)

Luckily, the precocious great-great-great-great-great-great-(imagine 22850 more “greats” in this phrase) grandson of Ahk-ahk, Unk-ook, made a major discovery:

Yes, being eaten by lions and other predators was a constant problem in early human society, and
so, a method for dealing with the challenge was implemented, and it had some side benefits:

Next: Clothes, Art & The Advent of the Uni-Brow

Also appearing at humor-blogs.com and alltop.

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As their leader, it was his responsibility to ensure they worked together well, and it looked as though he had misjudged things.

One of their youngest hunters, Donjuag, had been putting the moves on the mate of Thag’s second-in-command, the spike-haired Fonzag. Thag couldn’t really blame Donjuag for being attracted to the voluptuous and sensual Vunga, and he couldn’t really fault Fonzag for feeling a little jealous.

Donjuag and Vunga were much closer in age, but Thag had said it was all just youthful high spirits, and that Fonzag shouldn’t be worried about it: “Them not serious, Fonzag. Not worry you.”

And then Fonzag had caught Donjuag and Vunga making “lip smackies”, and the proverbial mammoth dung soiled the water hole.

Fonzag head-butted Donjuag, which was actually quite dangerous given Fonzag’s brutally spiked hair. Several other tribe members intervened before he could deliver a second blow.

“Heyyyy!” Fonzag cried. “I got a right to keep him away from my lady!”

“You not kill Donjuag!” Thag explained. “It uncool.”

“Heyyy,” Fonzag said contritely.

Vunga, who had the hips that launched the thousand facile thoughts in Donjuag, said: “it didn’t mean anything Fonzag. I was only kidding.”

Her kidding self, Thag thought, but he didn’t voice it.

“Really babe?” Fonzag asked.

“Of course, hon,” Vunga reassured her mate.

Fonzag looked at her, and gave her a kiss. “I believe you babe.”

Him kidding self, Thag thought, but he didn’t say anything.

Luckily, Donjuag was unconscious, so he didn’t hear any of this, but Thag knew they would have to come up with some kind of solution. He watched Fonzag and Vunga work on fixing Fonzag’s now badly bent hair spikes.

“Love triangle bad for Thunka Grunka,” Thag said to the shaman, Weasel-Scratch-Face-Brother.

“Oh, it’s okay,” the shaman said, “it’s sorted out now. The Gods have decreed it.”

“Foreskin-Face-Brother is fooling himself,” Thag told the shaman. “But not Thag.”

New Scientist story: Fooling yourself is an ancient and useful trait. Humor-blogs.com always plays the fool. Alltop too.

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We start with this news of recent scientific research. Dr. Tundra was very upset to read Will’s report that the Tinfoil Hat Brain Firewall Not So Secure After All.

Now, this busy worker isn’t dancing around a Maypole exactly, but she is very excited about something. And frankly, it’s kind of worryng. You’ll find the whole image at Fengtastic!, or click on the thumbnail.

Speaking of Maypoles, Swann has learned The Real Reason Hillary is Running.

While on the subject of poles with ears, Barbara Diamond informs us that Dick is obsessed with Nothin but Ass.

Ian Bowman has begun a promising list of defaults, starting with the default hobby for gainfully employed guys who are not in the habit of doing something even remotely interesting: photography.

Madeleine Begun Kane has nya, nya with: Hey Obama Sycophants, Don’t Say We Didn’t Warn You.

Sammy Benoit piles on with his terrifying dream: Barack Obama Was At The Exodus.

Huck Finn learns how Putin will save American democracy: by sending Chastity Belts to politicians.

This submission by Michael Fowke just freaked Thag out, but it was strangely compelling: Invesco Perpetual: Neil Woodford the star manager.

Greg Merrick has more financial doings with this primer on How to Completely Ruin Your Life Trying to Start Your Own Business.

While celebrating May Day, you may want to keep this news from Bloggledoggle that the Swamp Thing Actually a Hippie. Also there are indications that Batman is psychotic and Woody Woodpecker is an instigator. You heard me, an instigator.

And to finish off with some non-satire: Davexplorer made us laugh with this list of Dog Look Alike Celebrities.

And that’s it for the 99th edition! For our 100th edition, we’d like to do something a little different. We’d like you to find an example of some great satire that is not your own, and share it with us. We’ll credit both the finders and the findees. And what is satire? Someone wrote something about it once, we think. Thanks to these fine folks for helping us with webby-stuff: the Blog Carnival for their form; and the listings at the Ubercarnival, Ferdy’s permanent floating ping festival, and for the listings at the Blog Carnival too. Also, you may find some satire here if you dance around a bit. Warning: Alltop may cut in.

Technorati tags: carnival of satire, satire, humor, humour..

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Research from Eötvös Loránd University in Budapest (Hungary) shows that dogs can distinguish between other pooches’ barks. According to the New Scientist, the researchers: “measured the heart-rate fluctuations of pet dogs while playing them recordings of dogs barking at strangers and dogs barking to get attention.”

They discovered that dogs can distinguish between the different kinds of barking, and “it might be that they also understand,” says Péter Pongrácz, the lead researcher.

No word yet on if dogs are able to communicate via urine, but I suspect the answer is yes, and they call it pee-mail.

This dog was banned from the study, mostly because he was channeling Bud Abbot:

New Scientist story about this research, and an invention to interpret dog barks. Humor-blogs.com is highly adept at pee-mail.

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Today’s video doesn’t have the same indirect grooviness of this one celebrating potato salad. Humor-blogs.com is always groovy.

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For once, it was almost peaceful. He and his new mate, Twigla, were happy. Thag enjoyed the prestige and respect everyone gave him for leading the hunters so well. (Not to mention how they grokked his cave paintings and practically worshiped his beer.)

He and the other decent hunter, Fonzag, were in the process of training a new generation of young men. But they were having problems with Donjuag.

Donjuag was the son of Gnock, whom Thag had been unable to save from cave lions, so he felt even more responsibility. But Donjuag was a moody fellow. Unpredictable. He was also in love with Fonzag’s mate, the luscious Vunga.

“Heyyyyyy,” Fonzag said to Thag, as they walked out to their hunting grounds. “He’s being uncool with my lady.”

“Him not do anything,” Thag told Fonzag. “Him just infatuated.”

Donjuag ran by, his spear held high above his head, whooping with excitement.

“What him do?”

“Thag, that cat is full of energy,” Fonzag explained. “He’s not sleeping well either, at least that’s what his mom said.”

“Him crazy,” Thag said while Donjuag finished his sprint with a forward flip. The young hunter over-rotated and did a face plant. Thag laughed. “Donjuag funny.”

Donjuag, undeterred, got up, and did a back flip, whooping with delight.

Fonzag looked on, worried. Thag slapped his diminutive friend on the back (careful not to touch Fonzag’s ridiculous hair) and said, “Fonzag not worry. We wear Donjuag out on trail. Him too tired to pitch woo at Vunga.”

Donjuag started running again, landing a forward flip this time, and Fonzag grunted. “I don’t know, he’s got a lot of energy.”

New Scientist: Puppy love makes teenagers lose the plot. Photo by esterase. Look here for humorists with too much energy.

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