Thu 1 Jan 2009
Jurassic Pork
Posted by anaglyph under Rasputin, Science, True Fiction
[138] Comments
Reuters, Thursday, January 1:
In what amounts to one of the most extraordinary technical achievements ever to ring in a New Year, scientists from the University of Xuanpu announced today that they have successfully cloned the penis of the ‘mad’ Russian monk, Rasputin. An unusual alliance forged between Xuanpu and St Petersburg’s Russian Museum of Erotica and funded by Russian internet spam czar Sergei Korzhanenk, now promises to be able to literally sell millions of potential customers a bigger penis.
Rasputin’s preserved member was stolen one year ago from the St Petersburg museum by Italian underworld figure Raphael Spinoza, in a daring daylight heist. It was recovered by police in April after information from an in ‘inside source’ led them to Spinoza’s secluded residence in the Italian alps, and is now under heavy security at the museum. The pickled penis was only made available to the Xuanpu science team for their newly discovered cloning technique after extensive intellectual property negotiations.
Korzhanenk says that the planned market release of the penises to coincide with Christmas was delayed by technical challenges, but that they will be available to customers this week, priced at around $US250.
Ah faithful Acowlytes! Another year has veritably rocketed past, and a new one is galloping upon us. I know it’s been quiet on The Cow these last few months, but I can assure you, my loyal readers, that you were never far from my thoughts, and I have been assembling all manner of succulent tidbits to inflict upon you offer up for your amusement in the coming weeks. In the meantime, here’s wishing yez all a Happy, Healthy & Prosperous 2009!
Oh, and in case it needs to be formalized: let the Festivities commence!
138 Responses to “ Jurassic Pork ”
Trackbacks & Pingbacks:
-
[…] It’s up! […]
-
[…] in China (home of all kinds of marvellous technical breakthroughs), DIY roboticists Wang Wenrong and Wu Yulu are building […]
-
[…] and is far from impressed: He is offended that it was put in a museum for all to see, and that it has now been cloned by Chinese scientists and is sold all over the […]
dead severed penis
magic member grants wishes
Rasputin lives on
AA tells me she doesn’t ‘do’ poetry, so ladies & gentlemen, we are witnessing something of a rarity. Or debut, shall we hope?
If your penile length’s insufficient
And your overall size is deficient
Thanks to breakthroughs in cloning
You can improve your boning
By a sizably large coefficient.
This is old news,
Since we awready know:
Billions in China,
Are calld “Wang Hung Lo”.
Since Rasputin’s the size of a boat
I beg you to stop and take note
That if you’re a girl
Make sure it unfurls
Before it goes into your throat.
“Leave Rasputins dick alone!”
Th whole TCA gang cryd,
“LAST year somone rippd it off,
And THIS year its been Shanghaied!”
Prhaps its a sign o th times,
That from acids, proteins, & enzymes,
Comes a double-helix,
Then a shitload o dicks,
And a double-shitload o dick-rhymes.
A Chinese gourmet, name of Meo Luck
was tossing up: shellfish or freod duck,
but a cloned Russian member
then made him remember
it’s cheaper and bigger than geoduck.
(regional pronunciation differences notwithstanding)
May I haf your attention prease
Me and my correagues Chinese
Have croned you a dick
That wirr serr out rear quick
Just as soon as der shipped overseas.
JR: >>(regional pronunciation differences notwithstanding)
To say nothing of the contrived rhyme.
A female chronick masturbator,
Coud not find a thing that woud sate her.
She stuffd her vagina,
Wif dicks made in China,
And needed more one hour latr.
My Christmas did not go as plannd.
I payd about one quartr grand,
And bougt me a schlong,
That was two dangd feet long,
Then coudnt afford a big hand.
Anne told a dick-joke,
And shockd th shit outta me.
Nawty drty girl.
I flew out to China one night
And discovered to my great delight
That they had in my size
One that fit ‘tween my thighs
It’s too bad that I’ve since lost my sight.
Las night we had Eyetalian:
It was Veal Scallopini.
Tnight weere havin Chinese:
Sweet & Sour Won Ton Weenie.
It’s hard to write some poems
About Rasputin and his junk
It’s even fuckin’ harder when
You’re really fuckin’ drunk.
See, that’s funny because I just finished a bottle of wine….
Rasputin saw a dinosaur
And looked underneath to see more
While rubbing his chin
He said with a grin
“How ’bout that? Mine’s longer than yours!”
I LOVE BANANAS!
Rasputin’s old cock was pickled
The Chinese who studied were fickle
they made clones with ease
And the ladies they pleased
Cus’ the cum on their legs and chin tickled
Christmas is a joyous time —
Yes, evn in th gulag.
Santa brung a big fat sack.
Rasputin brung a yule log.
To clone an old dick is a chore
One the chinese did adore
They copied the cock
And tested round clock
But all in the end were quite sore
When Santa shows up, on Christmas Eve
The children, they all get excited.
But show them Rasputin, you’ll get asked to leave
Or worse yet, handcuffed and indicted.
Two science-teams, two ancient relics,
Meticulous negotiation,
Time-constraints and handling-rules,
Monitord investigation.
—
All went well inside th labs;
But safe return did not.
St. Petersburg got th paintd shroud.
Guess what th Vatican got.
The ball that’s dropped on New Year’s Day
Is cheered on with fanfare
Russia does the same ‘ol thing
Except they’re dropped in pairs
When midnight came, some drunken chicks,
Then droppd their tops to boot.
And thats when I responded wif,
A Rasputin salute.
Rasputin invested the lot of his cash
And took over Red Ryder through buyout
Their new wiener gun shoots more than BBs
So make sure that you don’t shoot your eye out.
I aint well-versd in cloning,
But I always had th thougt,
That if you dont clone one whole guy,
Yer only clonin naught.
—
But somhow these guys cloned a dick —
At least thats what they say.
Coud it be that theyve discoverd,
PPDNA?
The year rings in and the game is afoot!
The rhyming is ribald and zealous!
But reading between the lines, one reflects
That some of our poets seem… jealous…
Gleaming in the light
Suspended
Multiple buttocks,
Upended.
Trembling with glee
They wobble
(If they were mouths
They’d gobble.)
For what do they wait
These bumholes?
Multiple Russian monkish
Cumpoles.
Cloned by some Chinese boffins
Sciency
Well noted for their
Pliancy.
Penises, warm and hugely
Erectile
Larger than largest military
Projectile.
So be not even slightly
Suspicious
When Atlas & Joey both exclaim
“Delicious!”
And faithful readers of The Tethered Cow Ahead
Dream dark pre-Soviet cock-filled dreams in bed.
I’ll take four.
Do you ship? And do they come in different colors? Do they come with any kind of guarantee or attachment instructions. I think they would make really kewl toes.
One other thought hit me. Since they are hunting sharks into oblivian for their fins for soup, perhaps then can just grow Rasputin penis and use that for soup instead. Just a thought.
I seriously need coffee….I am even sounding disturbing for myself.
“This company’ll go bankrupt,”
Rasputin prophesyd,
“Money cant buy you aa ppenis,
And — trust me, fokes — Ive tryd.”
A joyous New Year’s masquerade!
Raise your glass and join in serenade!
What excellent time
For Rasputin rhyme!
Just wait til you see the parade!
Upon ascent to Heavn, th Mad Monk approachd th Gates.
Saint Petr there presentd him wif stampd certificates.
“And grab yerself a halo; its th only thing we wear.
Yer wings shoud grow quite natcherly, out o yer back somwhere.”
—
Then, strippin down, Rasputin put th halo on his head,
And saunterd ovr to some friends he knew had long been dead.
They lookd at him and bustd out in lafftr, quite amusd.
“I mus be missin sompm,” said Rasputin, quite confusd.
NASA chose an astronaut, they picked Joe Polanski
As part of an experimental test so they could see
If he could pass the program that was made by M.I.T.
Or if he’d simply fail again to Russia’s chimpanzee.
Since parade-displays travel by car,
Our plan coud be only bizarre.
For mustnt we note,
That a Rasputin float,
Is sompm best done in a jar?
Pitka and his partnr dug into th Cold Case File,
To try to close a case that aint been werkd on for a while.
Th partnr thougt about a case that always made him smile.
A foldr stampd “RASPUTIN” he then placd atop th pile.
—
Pitka had a theory: “Twas excessive masturbation!
THAT is what has causd this mans cmplete emasculation!”
Addin, “Theres no need fer any more investigation,”
He stampd th foldr “CLOSD,” then scribbld “Gross self-deprickation.”
To jail Spinoza was sent,
When to a known hideout he went.
He couda succeeded:
He had all he needed,
To hide elsewhere, pitchin a tent.
A woman with blonde hair walked in and sat at Pitka’s desk
He recognized her from her reputation so burlesque
“I’ve got some information that might open up new clues
I’m sure my hunch will lead you to some data you can use.”
–
She opened up her mouth real wide and Pitka took a peek
And found the missing portion of Rasputin’s famed physique.
Pitka cuffed the woman and then happily pronounced:
“I guess it’s true of what they say, it’s what’s inside that counts.”
HAHAHAHAHAHA!
That was supposed to go right underneath yours, but you’re too damn fast for me.
Some dubious food exspurts say that flattr chickns bettr.
So I take pen in hand to write them stoopit fools a lettr:
“I find yer proclamations to be little more thsn hokum;
Fer if we had flat chickns, there aint one o us whod choke em.”
HAHAHAHAHA!!! Nice.
Rasputin can be cooked and served in many different ways
Anything from broiled to a nicely pickled glaze.
Simmer in the oven and you’ll see Rasputin thicken
Perhaps it’s true (but I don’t know) Rasputin tastes like chicken.
Until the meat is fully cooked, don’t serve is my advice
Then take it out and carve away and cut yourself a slice!
It keeps for up to several years; the taste will not subside
No matter how long it is kept in jarred formaldehyde.
Nice touchski!
Some like it in a salad
Some like it served with froth
But MI’s preference seems to be
A pickled penis broth
Since I’m travelling all day to day, I’ve decided to let the competition/exhibition run for a while. So round up your friends – we’re a long way from last year’s 100+ comments!
Rasputin tryd seducin her,
And got rebuffd but GOOD.
Said she: “Jus keep it in yer pants.”
Said he: “If ONLY I coud!”
Fokes, I prpose now a toast:
To th Revrend, our New Years Day host!
For where woud we be,
If suddnly he,
Had cut off th Rasputin post?
(Fergot to say it: HAPPY NEW YEAR to ya, Revrend … and to Violet Towne, and th othr two Vs, and to all th Cow faitful!)
Try ringing the bell for Rasputin’s door
And you’ll hear that there’s something wrong
Just push the button and you’ll hear a “ding”
But you’ll find that it’s missing its “dong”.
Rasputins doorbell gots no dong?
Life sure hands out some shockers!
Especialy when th door has got,
A decent set o knockers.
Rasputin used to swim a lot
And always wore a speedo
That is, until one fateful night
He lost his dang’d torpedo.
Ockasionaly when swimmin,
Rasputin, on a lark,
Woud ditch his trunks and backstroke,
Pretendin hes a shark.
A little boy in Russia once
Went up to the Mad Monk
And poked himself right in the eye
On Rasputin’s massive junk.
“Excuse me, sir” the boy did ask
“How did you get so meaty?”
“It’s simple, kid,” Rasputin said
You better eat your Wheaties.”
Rasputin, when swimmin,
Wif cute Russian women,
Woud knock out their eyes wif his bone.
But now that hes gone,
Th women live on,
And watch as his bone swims alone.
Rasputin strippd down,
And then turnd around,
Revealin to her his erecktion.
But such was his luck,
She wantd to fuck,
But wudnt quite up fer bisecktion.
Rasputin in the Navy
Served aboard a Russian frigate
He sank a lot of ships because
He shot them with his spigot.
Long before our Saturn launchd,
In 1969,
A more impressive Russian rocket,
Splashd down in th brine.
Rasputin once when hang gliding
The silence was profound
The only thing that he heard was
Himself dragging on the ground
Of all the penises in the world Rasputin’s is the best
He could lay upon his back and rest it on his chest
But in a jar, on a shelf Rasputin has found the most fame
So the Chinese did take the pickled rod to copy it without shame
They made many copies of the dong put them up for sale
They even made a model for the blind and covered it in brail
But all was not well in the land where communism is the rule
Cus’ now any man with the cash could be hung like a mule
The moral of the story is one that is so simple and clear
For all women who lives in China you now have a reason to cheer
Rasputin then complaind,
Because he gets no oral sex.
That las thing that coud eat such meat?
Tyrannosaurus Rex.
Rasputin’s dick has been around
Before the age Jurassic
It’s been preserved inside a jar
By a company called Vlasic.
Not all dicks are the same they’re different from one tho the next
There is one greater from the rest, a fact that no one rejects
The phallus of the great Rasputin has size and girth on all
Although it resides in side a jar, the world it does enthrall
So every year on the cow a contest is started with glee
To see who can make the best poem in this great writing spree
Many will try and some will fail to submit them under the clock
The creative juices flowing wine to write on a dead mans cock
The man would be proud to her the rhymes about his famous dong
But he might not be pleased to see made by little kids in Hong Kong
Askd to comment on th multiplying of his tubing,
Said Rasputin: “I dont care — as long as they aint cubing.”
Men pickled Rasputin’s small dick
To prove that it weren’t worth a lick
But ladies all knowed
It’s not what he showed
’twas how he could moisten them quick!
In most places, a weather-vane,
Depickts a wrought-iron cock.
Predicktably, in Russia they,
Just use a dangd wind-sock.
Rasputin when excited
Shoots his load like a tsunami
If you think that mess is big
Just look at his salami!
Pinocchio in Russia, made a stop at a museum
He’d heard about Rasputin and he wanted to go see him
He looked upon the phallus and his eyes both opened wide
“Holy smokes!” he then exclaimed, “that guy REALLY lied!”
Mr. Sergei Korzhanenk,
Coud use some business lessons.
Cold-cuts, spam, and pickld things,
Belong in delicatessens.
A blaze at th museum had th world at-large on edge.
Thank Heavn somone thought to place Rasputin on a ledge!
Such quick thinkin spared th pickld prize th dread hardboil,
And simultaneously made th very first jargoyle.
Mom & daughtr went to th museum one fine day.
Uncomftably, they stoppd to view th Rasputin display.
“Are ALL men hung like THAT, M’ma?” Th mother said, “Puh-LEEZE!
Wood like THAT, my daughtr, surely DOESnt grow on trees!”
Oops. A typo in comment #69. Should read:
If you think that his mess is big
Fucked up the meter :-(
The board members at Popsicle all met up for a meeting
Economic hardship in the States saw their shares fleeting.
“Whatever can we do?” they asked “Our profits only drop!
Ever since we introduced Raputin’s Pudding Pops..”
Yeah.
While weere on th subject o crrecktions …
#43 says ‘thsn’ instead o ‘than’; and #63 says ‘That’ (in line 3) instead o ‘The’.
Rough drafts, ya know?
If only they made a preview button plugin for WordPress comments, eh, Joey?
In the fast-growing Communist bloc
Those boffins whose feats that we mock
Should pause and take heed –
What they really don’t need
Is a surfeit of mass produced cock
Somewhere on this page, perhaps in your comment above, I believe an tag is missing, as all the comments following are in italic.
A bracket was missing. Good catch, thanks.
As for the errors, well, I could fix ’em, of course, but I ain’t gonna.
The Rasputin Exhibition is as much a demonstration of fast improvisation as of poetry. And if I entered into that particular fray, I’m sure I’d get – ‘But Reverend, I could make it MUCH better if you’d let me alter the rhyme in verse 2…
But just so you can fix it yerself from the get-go…
Them Far Eastern cloning experts,
Were lousy at crafting adverts.
Their slogan, though true,
It just woudnt do:
“From big dicks, expeckt little squirts.”
Thanks fer th preview funcktion, Revrend. I think thats a asset — especialy when posts involve some HTML. It also helps us to see if any poemskis got postd WHILE we was typin a new one inta th comments-box.
And, fer what its werf, Ive always been willing to deal wif a No Deletions / No Revisions policy in poemin here at th Cow. Im confident that fokes who is GOOD at readin poemskis will ovrlook or “autocorreckt” for “glitchs”.
“Botchs” are a diffrent story.
Not that weve evr seen anything like THAT, right?
I’m surprised China’s entered this yarn –
They really should not give a darn!
In Heaven, it’s said
That, though both are dead,
What Rasputin can’t do, Genghis Khan.
>>Not that weve evr seen anything like THAT, right?
That never happens, Joey.
This Genghis Khan theory, youll find,
Is faulty, so pay it no mind.
Rasputin was,
Disadvantagd because,
He left his best asset behind.
Well, that of course was the point…
Ah!
Seems th point was that tho Rasputin may a-had a oak, Genghis had a friggin redwood.
DANG! This oblique shit!
Is flatter better?
Madonna’s lab has proven
With chickens only.
Previous haiku
Contained no genitalia
So many regrets
I wouldn’t blame Rasputin for lack of trying, but I woulda figured there were more people out there with enough BALLS to enter this thing besides the handful of us regulars.
Face it, Joey, you and I just set the bar so damn high that one would have to climb Rasputin himself just to TRY and beat us.
Marion went driving and she drove until the night.
She’d stolen 40 grand and wanted to get out of sight.
But after many hours she soon felt herself compelled
To try and get some shuteye so she stopped at a motel.
Marion approached the desk, the man there said in earnest
“My name is Norman Bates and I’m the local taxidermist.”
“Nice to meet you,” she replied, “Do you work here by yourself?”
“No,” said Norman, “Mom’s with me, she can’t care for herself.”
Once Marion had checked in she decided that she’d shower
Then grab some food because she hadn’t eaten much for hours.
No sooner had she soaped up when she saw something uncertain
A shadow of an object that was cast upon the curtain.
Marion let out a scream, but no one ever heard her.
She had been stabbed and left to die, the victim of a murder.
The Bates Motel held status for its killing so bizarre
Especially since the murder weapon came from pickled jar.
I thought that the clones would all be the same
but looking at the prices it seems an odd claim.
One cock is pricey, the other so cheap
perhaps the functionality is more than skin deep?
And who decides which is the pick of cloned dicks, who is the maestro who prices the pricks?
Is it done in the lab, or out in the street, how do they test it, this prime Russian meat?
I await your replies, not a moment to waste
Our order is placed and will arrive poste haste!
But before we unveil the bubble-wrapped glans
before we have Rasputin’s cock in our hands.
We just want to know as most customers should,
Can we be sure that we bought the best WOOD?
The King
Oops Rev that was an earlier draft, the second line is meant to be:
but seeing the price-tags it seems an odd claim.
Can you fix it for me?
Ta
The King
Trying to find the damn “Joey” OFF button…it’s around here somewhere….
Shit, that was the garage door opener and we don’t even have one.
Look on th bright side …
Im always a little off.
“I cannot tell a lie,” said George
And Rasputin understood
“Me either” chimed Rasputin
“Cuz I’m a man of my wood.”
While makin love, Rasputin heard sombody holler “FIRE!”
So he & she then quickly threw on his & her attire.
He jumpd into his trousrs, as he fumbld in th night.
Each leg went inta seprate holes; his dick went in th right.
—
Then down th hotel corridor he goosesteppd, she in tow.
And out a opm window he & she did head-first go.
Said she: “Are you all right, my love?”, as to him she did sprint.
“Said he: “My right legs brokn but — thank God! — I got a splint.”
Rasputin tried out for his track and field team
While he was still in high school
He holds all the records, remains undefeated
Rasputin the pole vaulting fool.
When answring some questions,
Do it most mattr-of-factly.
If askd, “Is that a pickld peppr?”
Dont say, “Not exactly.”
Andy Dufresne was sentenced to jail
And landed himself in the slammer
He’d gotten out faster had he tunneled the plaster
With Rasputin instead of rock hammer.
Who needs Rasputin, sir? Not I!
Dont mean to be a boastr;
But Id a-pokd through any wall,
Bhind that Hayworth postr.
King Willy: Nice job for a virgin Rasputin competitor. As for fixing the mistake – well, you’re not paying attention now, are you? (See Comment #79…)
Actually I did see 79
Failed attempt at royal humour, a draft me!!!!
The King
King Willy aint no cherry, Revrend. He was in da mix las year. (See Comment #25.)
OOPS! That Anonymous was MEski!
Our poemin is a grand affair,
And grandr things impend:
In three-hundred-sixty-some odd days,
Th Monk will rise again!
Th Revrend wont correckt our poems.
But dont sit there and pout.
On this day, we shoud really have,
Our dicktionarys out.
King Willy: Sorry – failed to comprehend irony. I was too impressed by your poem.
Joey: Re – King Willy’s virginity: you’re right! What’s worse is… I actually checked, but missed it! Mea culpa on both counts.
I hope everyone brought their tuxedo because it’s almost time to nominate the awards…
And so, intrepid laureates
The sparring now must end:
Moderation in all things
Is wise, you’ll comprehend,
For as the monk himself has shown
If excess is your friend
Your exploits may inspire bad poets
To start some crazy trend
Until next year then, rest your quills
And lay your rhymes aside
And if you ponder Rasputin,
Hold up your head with pride,
And tell your children “I was there,
The Tetherd Cow astride,
When shouts of ‘Stop! Oh GOD PLEASE STOP!'”
Resounded loud world-wide.
Another great year, Rev! Thanks for hosting!
Time to break the glass and hose this place down.
HAHAHAHAHA!
GREAT closr, Revrend!
And, yeah, thanks again fer th BLASTski! I had more fun, and enjoyd more laffs this year than I did las year — and I wouda hardly thougt that possible.
My man, Atlas, REALY outdone imself. And if nominations are in ordr, then I hereby nominate — fer SOME kinda reckonition — th followin FIVE:
(in ass-ending ordr)
(5) “Handcuffed and Indicted” (#23): This was one o th first ones that caused me to LOL. Oh, th prverse ways in which a kids Christmas party might be ruind! “Show em Rasputin”? WhatnaHECK does that evn MEAN? Heck! Eithr you bring out th jar fer “Show & Tell” or ya just UNZIP and whip it out. Eithr way, “handcuffed and indicted” is a DANGD fittin end! HAHAHAHAHA!
(4) “All Ding and No Dong” (#51): Great joke / great handling of it! And th whole idea that a dickless guy shoud have a dongless doorbell — too funny! Th versifickation serves to magnify th funny!
(3) Pinocchio Nose (#70): Thisns probly tied wit th previos one. All th same virtues are there. And th Pinocchio – Rasputin cnnecktion is so PRFECKT that its a wondr its taken us FOUR contests bfore somone brougt it in! Cudos, Atlas!
(2) “Rasputin Recipes” (#45): Here, th gag is decent, th handling of it superb; but th real joy o thisn is in th tecknickles. Its probly ovious that I gots a friggin hard-on fer th iambick septimetr, and here its done about as well as I think it coud be. Nice variety within th constancy o theme too. And, as mentiond in my follow-up coment, it involves that “nice touchski.”
(1)“Pitka Meets Paris” (#40) This poemski is pretty near prfecktion. Theres th same tecknickle beauty thats found in “Rasputin Recipes,” and HERE th gag (pun intended?) is OUTSTANDING. PLUS, theres th more esoterick virtue of anothr appearance of our ol friend, Pitka, along wit th appearance o that unnamd blonde woman — whose name we ALL know! Yeah … DEFNITLY one o th funnyest Rasputin poemskis evr submittd by a non-polack!
And thanks to all th othr playrs! Great seein a few firs-timrs: Anne Arkham, Butt Naked in the Pool, and ArchieArchive. Butt Naked shoud DEFNITLY be Rookie o th Year: about a hanful o entrys, and a way o makin certain laff-inducin phrases bubble up from time to time.
And to th rest o th vets, GOOD JOBski! Hope we can all do it again in ’10!
Thanks for the time Rev. But I have one question for Atlas, which glass and what hose?
Of course, anyone who merely partakes in the Rasputin challenge is a winner, but I thank you all for your contributions, and really
dreadlook forward to next year’s efforts.So are we going to have a clam bake now?
Sure! The Annual TCA Clambake! I like it.
Yeah, clams.
I coud do poemskis about clams. No problema.
Clams? I’m in (pun intended).
Geez!
I dont know HOW you fokes put up wif Atlas … and all his juvenile shitski!
Says the king of the boner groaners…
Atlas made a rhyme AFTR th Revrend closd th contest!
I think th Revrend oughtta PENALIZE him!
HARD!
Yeah, maybe I’ll ban him from next year’s festivities.
Yeah.
Think o th headackes youd a-spared yerself if youd a-bannd him back in ’06.
Good point.
And Polanski should be banned for the PUNitive damages in comment 121.
Not that itd mattr.
Ccordin to ancient prophecy, “The Bannd Playd On.”
While Casey was off waltzin wif a strawberry blonde, apparently.
those arent cloned penises..they’re geo ducks…you can look it up, theyre pronounced ” gooey ducks “, they showed them on an episode of ” dirty jobs “..they’re a delicacy in asian countrys..they’re like an oyster or something.
I can look it up? Er, yes, thanks for the science lesson John. I know this might be a notion which you have trouble grasping, but this post employs a concept called ‘humour’, something with which you are obviously not too familiar.
You can probably ‘look it up’, but most people have an instinctive grasp of such things. Perhaps a dose of Tommy Cooper might introduce you to the subject.
The rules of humour bend the world in such a way that other people are caused to ‘laugh’. When using such techniques, reality is often distorted or suspended, and the frisson of experiencing the juxtaposition of ‘real life’ and the humourous anecdote is what causes the ‘laughter’.
In this case, the ‘laughter’ is further enhanced by contributors to the blog, who, having grasped the fact that I am playing a joke on them, contribute to the humour by adding humour of their own. It’s all great ‘fun’, and I suggest you try it sometime.
[Cow Aside: if blogging has illustrated one thing to me Cowpokes, it is how many utterly stupid people there are out there. Seriously, just attempt to understand John’s thought processes here – where, oh where is there any indication that there is even a jot of seriousness in this piece? How is it even possible that he thinks I could do an entire article with two separate Photoshopped images without knowing what a geoduck was? And what does he think he’s gaining here by enlightening me on this subject anyway? My God – I’d hate to think of how his ‘brain’ deals with other posts on The Cow. I bet he’s an A-Grade candidate for an investment package in Steorn shares!]
Well I, fer one, am feelin totaly had.
Im pretty sure that those are geoducks.
Now that I lookd it up, I mean.
Looking up. Just like Rasputin’s been doing for many years now.
Well then, you can send your thanks directly to ‘John’. Perhaps in the form of a subscription to Peter Popoff’s mailing list…
Shit, Revrend …
Refrence to “Peter Popoff” on a Rasputin post COUD touch off a whole new round o poemin!
Don’t you go touching ANYTHING until January 1st.
Heck! Ill pop off my petr any time I feel like!
Who dyou think you are, Atlas?
Dick Chainy?