“Scientists make mice grow sperm for other species”
Headline of a story in the Seattle Times, which includes this incredible closing paragraph:
And, he said, since the mice have to be immune compromised, it won’t be easy to transfer this technology to humans. “You can’t just take an animal or a person and make them a farm for your testicles.”
I’m thinking Marlon Brando needs to be running this testicle farm, a la “The Island of Dr. Moreau.” Or maybe more the South Park take on that.
I was driving through the Rape of Hardin Valley this morning on my way to work (the state has decided this rustic road needs to be four lanes), and I saw the oddest site: There, among the dust and commotion of yellow bulldozers scratching the earth like pumped up canaries on steroids, a rotund JimBob wearing bib overalls and a buzzcut was flapping his arms like a giant chicken. He was following a wiry little fella who clearly wasn
Our TV was zapped by lightning recently, so I went two or three weeks with no tube. The whole time, my faithful Tivo was churning away, filling up its 120 hour hard drive with cool stuff, including multiple episodes of “Insomniac with Dave Attell.” One of the episodes, where Dave runs amok in New Orleans, includes this 5 a.m. gem:
“See, even at this hour there’s still plenty of characters on Bourbon Street. The vampire. The little drunk girl. The stripper with one tooth. All we need is a midget and we got ourselves a porno movie.”
Yup, that’s the New Orleans I know and love …