Only problem: no booze at Canadian Costco. Now I have to write to my MP again.
My two brain cells subscribe to the Big Think newsletter and today they learned that scientists have successfully re-animated the brains of dead pigs. By using heaters, pumps and artificial blood, a scientific team from Yale University managed to restore partial brain function to the brains of more than 100 recently beheaded pigs.
My fellow inebriates, I only have partial brain function! These zombie pigs are probably having much more complex thoughts than yours truly. Like: Wait a sec, I was going through this tunnel toward a bright light, and WTF, man, now I’m a brain in a box?
There are probably a bunch of ethical questions we should be asking. For me, the main question is: What should we do with the rest of the pig?
Betty Crocker says we should make Bacon Infused Vodka. All you need is 2 tbsp. bacon fat (zombie or regular), a 375-mL bottle of vodka and a mason jar. Shake it up, let it sit for 6 hours, then freeze. Then use a cheesecloth (I don’t know what that is so I’ll use one of my dad’s socks), and there you have it!
MFI, I hope you’ll try this and tell me all about it. Apparently there are a lot headless pigs out there that you can use, so get busy!
My Fellow Inebriates,
The last year at LBHQ has been like a country music song. My blog has deteriorated to a shadow of its former, pester-you-daily self, and our drinking has indeed subsided to the dull roar my parents had threatened it would. About a hundred beanie boos, including a frighteningly large owl, have invaded the house, leaving no quarter for bears. All our household electronics are on the fritz, including the entertainment room projector, and our inability to zone out in front of an action movie has turned my friend Scarybear (being at loose ends) into more of a threat than usual. And to top it off, Facebook deactivated my account because—get this—I’m not real.
Sometimes I stare into space all day; sometimes I collapse into a little crumpled, furry ball.
Which makes Valentine’s Day downright unwelcome, my fellow inebriates. Especially given that my girlfriend Dolly says I may never refer to her as that, even in the past tense. And so, for all my fellow misfits who have no liquor and no snuggles (again), here are a few pictures.