Seeing as how today is Veteran’s Day and both my parents are veterans themselves, I’m going to say thanks to them for their service by not making a single vagina joke in today’s post. Instead, I’ll just point you to this fascinating article on cricket testicles.
The tuberous bushcricket’s testicles account for 14 percent of its body weight. To put that in perspective, the testicles of a man weighing 200 pounds (91 kilograms) with that ball-to-body ratio would weigh 28 pounds (12.7 kilograms).
I know, sometimes I overwhelm myself with my propensity for thoughtfulness.
You know what else is fascinating? This picture that someone sent to me after spotting this flyer near central park.
My first thought was, “How the hell did Apocalypse get through the Lincoln Tunnel?” But then I noticed the missing unicorn is a girl. So obviously it’s Apocalypse’s girlfriend, right? I mean how many unicorns inhabit the tri-state area?
Though I always assumed Apocalypse was gay…and not just because he loves show tunes almost as much as he loves cupcakes.
Regardless, I called the phone number to see if the distraught unicorn caretaker wanted me to question Apocalypse on her behalf. And also because you don’t NOT call a phone number on a missing unicorn flyer, am I right? And that’s how I found this site.
There I found audio recordings from New Yorkers that have sighted the unicorn on the streets of Manhattan. So far, I’ve learned quite a bit. Apparently unicorns love candy corn and accept magic beans as a form of currency. Who knew?
So far, no update on what percent of a unicorn’s body weight is devoted to its testicles. I could discuss that with Apocalypse I suppose, but I like to respect his privacy. Then again, if it was 14% like that poor bushcricket, I probably wouldn’t have to ask.
This post? This is what happens when I can’t make vagina jokes, Interwebz. Blame the veterans.
Actually, there are probably a whole slew of veterans that like vagina jokes. It’s even possible that my two favorite veterans actually don’t mind vagina jokes…unless they involve their daughter’s vagina. I can respect that.
So this is my thank you, Mom and Dad, for your years of service. Next year you’d probably rather have a card, right?
(Pssst. Mom and Dad? I really didn’t mean to use the word vagina so much in your thank you post but then I figured if I didn’t, you wouldn’t really know it was from me. So better to throw a few into the mix for good measure, right? You know, like how I like to throw the perfect pottery vase and then at the last second mess it up ever so slightly so people will know it’s hand-made? This is just like that. But with vaginas. And less mud. And a unicorn. Technically two unicorns. I’m going to stop now. Love you.)