Fun Fact Friday - Rhino Time

First fun fact: I fucking love rhinos. In fact, dear reader, you should be impressed that all the fun facts until this point haven't been about rhinos. Sometimes, at museums I seek out models of rhinos and identify which of the five types of rhino the model is before looking at the info card provided. Why? Because I am a nerd. And because I love rhinos.

How could I not obsessively love this?

Fun fact: Scientists believe that rhino charging isn't an act of aggression, rather one driven by poor eyesight.

Rhinos are awesome at a lot of things. Like stealing my heart and lathering themselves in mud, but they do not have fantastic vision. When they see objects in the distance, they often charge at it in order to find out what the fuck they half-see. That's not to say that if you are charged at by a rhino, you should just hang out thinking that the rhino wants to get a better look at beautiful you. But I am not actually sure what you should do if a rhino charges at you. This is something I have not learned about rhinos. Because I love them. And even if I am speared to death by a rhino someday because I chose to learn that rhino horns are actually made of hardened rhino hair rather than what to do when that horn gets ever closer to me at an alarming rate (of up to 40mph, depending on the species), then I will still die in a pretty badass way. But for now, as I sit safely in my room with my four toy rhinos to play with, I can simply picture rhinos like this:

In Other Words - No Shit

The latest in repurposed vulgarities...

Fun Fact Friday - Jeez, Virginia, Already?

Fun fact: On this day in 1897 "Yes, Virginia, There Is a Santa Claus" was first published in The New York Sun.

Perhaps I am not as patient as Francis Pharcellus Church, who penned the defense of Santa, but for fuck's sake, Virginia! It's goddamn September. Have a little patience. And sure, it's 1897 and you don't want to spend all day glowering at people on your bike, but find something to amuse yourself for a few months.

Seriously. September. You have three months to go. Pull it together.

In related news, I am not good with children.

The Return of the Philip

Oh, why hello! It's time for this month's installment of dick. Hoo-rah! (If you missed last month, get caught up here.)

Until next time, stay classy!

Fun Fact Friday - Urine Luck

I never apologize for puns. So you're welcome. But today's fun fact is about urine. I learned a shocking number of really disturbing things about pee today, so just be thankful that I'm bringing you this fun fact instead of some of the other gross shit people used to do with piss.

Fun fact: Women used to ingest turpentine because they thought it made their urine smell like roses.

And yes, turpentine is poisonous and now found in paints and liniments. But apparently Roman women back in the day were into having sweet smelling urine. Because really, who doesn't want that?

But more importantly, who the fuck discovered this perfumed urine magic? And why? It's like mayonnaise. I mean, when the first person accidentally made mayonnaise why would he/she have said, "Hey! This thick white stuff looks delicious!" and put it in his/her mouth? It is a mystery of life! As is scented urine.

Yup. I want that in my mouth.

I now have all sorts of odd visions of Roman women talking to their friends after a particularly sweet smelling piss...

Agrippina: Claudia! You will never believe what just happened to me! Before, I licked this resin off a tree and now my pee smells delicious!

Claudia: Holy shitballs, Pina! That's awesome. I want my urine to smell good, too! I spend too much of my time peeing pee that just doesn't live up to my high expectations.

Agrippina: I'll show you the tree! It did make me feel a little sick, though...

Claudia: Who cares? Wait until Flavian smells my pee now! He won't be able to resist!

Claudia and Agrippina discussing their important discovery.

There you have it: a fun and very mysterious fact about piss. So if you would also like your urine to smell like romantic flowers and would also like to possibly to poison yourself, may I recommend some varnish?

Thoreauly Thursday

I once dreamed about a man named Henry. We were in love. It was a fanfuckingtastic dream.

That Henry was not Henry David Thoreau. I have never dreamed of Henry David Thoreau, and I probably never will. But I do have to take a two and half hour class on him and Ralph Waldo Emerson every Thursday.

Henry David Thoreau looking his handsomest in hopes that I will dream about him.

I would not describe learning about transcendalists as my favorite activity. Also, I feel there is too much irony in reading Emerson and Thoreau telling me to have an original relation to the universe instead of relating to the universe through the writings of people before me. But I digress.

From my ass to seat melding afternoons on Thursday, I have born a new coping mechanism: more limericks. So today, I bring you a new perspective on Henry.

There once was a man named Thoreau,
Who wanted to learn and to know.
So he learned of the trees,
But the birds and the bees
Was actually all he needed to grow.

And I do mean grow.

The Nerd Chronicles - Volume 1

I saw it from across the table in the middle of the windowless classroom: a ray of hope. By which I mean a vaguely cute boy with a fossil embroidered on his backpack. I felt my lady balls drop as - with a sudden gust of sociability - I asked, "Is that Archaeopteryx?"

The boy glanced up at me then down at his backpack as he realized I was, in fact, speaking to him.

"Uh, yeah. I mean, I think it's called Arcteryx," he said, "but yeah."

I crinkled my eyebrows. I didn't think I was mispronouncing the name of the first known bird. Sure, it had been awhile since I had discovered my love of dinosaurs, but I didn't think I had forgotten the name of the creature that had finally made the shift from dinosaur to bird. It's not everyday someone shows you a slide of a transition fossil! But with a sliver of doubt now lodged in my brain, I shrugged and muttered, "Oh, maybe. I don't know."

We settled into our seats as class began, but I made a mental note to spend some time on my dear friend, the Google, when I got home. I had to be sure.

Archaeopteryx dancing. Or so I assume.

Archaeopteryx's fossilized form flickered onto my screen. It was Archaeopteryx. What the fuck was that guy talking about? With further detective work and a few more minutes on the interwebs, I discovered Arc'teryx is an expensive brand of athletic mountain wear. I had not found a fellow nerd in my class. I had found instead my school's typical fare of rich white male and been deceived by the fossil on his backpack.

But fear not. I will move on from this crushing dinosaur related disappointment to nerd another day.

Fun Fact Friday - Warren G. HARDing

After an unintentional week long hiatus, I have returned to deliver yet another unnecessary fun fact. After the fervor surrounding the conventions the last two weeks, I feel obligated to provide some sort of presidential fun fact. Also, I fucking love presidential fun facts.

Fun fact: Warren G. Harding allegedly had sex with a young woman in a coat closet.

First of all, how the hell did I not know this until tonight? This is the kind of fact I live for! Which makes my life sound pretty damn nerdy. Which it is. But I am still not as bad as Nan Britton, the aforementioned coat closet sex lady.

Just look at those smoldering eyes!

Apparently when Nan was a teenager she obsessed over Warren G. Harding and hung pictures of him all over her walls. Then he boned her in a coat closet, she became pregnant, and she spent the rest of her life telling people about how Harding fathered her baby.

Harding's wife (because there's always a wife) apparently tried to break down the closet door when she discovered that her husband had not just gone in to look for his beloved overcoat, Harold.

Harding and Harold out on the town.

While Harding was protected by a member of the Secret Service and a closet door for that encounter, Harding's wife, Florence "The Duchess" Harding, may have gotten vengeance. She allegedly poisoned Harding as revenge for his many indiscretions.

While Harding's cause of death may be unclear, I think the real mystery here is the closet: Which closet? Why closet? And, perhaps most importantly, was Harold jealous?