Dr. Thorpe:Proceedure: Daphnia had to ride behind the hovercraft for an hour and a half.
Zack:Daphnia made a grave mistake agreeing to team up with the smart girl this year. (left to right: Angela and Rachel, Daphnia could not attend)
Dr. Thorpe:"Okay, Daphnia, now we're just going to stick this camera up through this little incision we've made under your ribcage, and we're going to give it just a gentle little push, okay? Now tell us when you feel it hit your left ventricle, then we'll start the heroin IV."
Zack:"Why are we doing potassium last?"
Dr. Thorpe:"Oh, because there might be some discomfort involved in that, but by that time you're going to be all messed up on heroin and morphine. Okay, now let's time how long between beats, starting... now. Okay, that was four seconds... okay, ten seconds that time... okay, this one is... okay, going on sixty seconds now..."
Zack:"Huh, weird, nothing for three minutes and then it started again real slowly. I wasn't really expecting that. I hope it doesn't mess with our data or we might have to start over again."
Dr. Thorpe:"Well, maybe we can just fudge it a little... okay, turn that potassium drip up until you hear it sizzle."
Zack:I wonder how you could even have a hypothesis for an experiment that amounts to watching fireworks. "Drugs will do stuff to her heart and it will be awesome."
Dr. Thorpe:Hypothesis: What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.
Zack:Procedure: Injected a bunch of drugs.
Dr. Thorpe:Conclusion: Daphnia not stronger.
NFL teams may soon be lining up to bid on a man who can destroy defensive lines as thoroughly as he destroyed his own child's balls.
One roommate's art-fueled movement goes terribly wrong.
Fashion SWAT... the fashion industry is obsessed with impracticality. We know that what designers create was never meant to be worn by the grimy masses, but that doesn't somehow diminish how ridiculous many of these costumes are. Make no mistake, they are costumes, and like a Halloween prize pageant we will turn our discerning gaze on the grievous fashion misfires of Paris, Milan, and New York. We're not pulling any punches, and we're definitely not interested in making any friends. We're Joan Rivers without Melissa Rivers to temper our screeching. We're the Fashion Police in jack boots. We are Fashion SWAT.