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Volume 1 here

My interest in these games isn’t simply part of my well documented love of the perverse.  I see these for what they truly are – warning signs.

When you catch a child tormenting animals or repeating lyrics from a Jonas Brothers song, you are rightfully terrified.  Time and again serial muderers later demonstrated these juvenile behaviors might further devolve.  You know you’re responsible to be vigilant of them or at least drug them into a well-behaved stupor.  Now imagine that child is actually 127 million Japanese people.

If you were going to shit your pants in abject terror, this would be the time to do it.

When a society promotes an arcade game that simulates playful sodomy, they are sending an important message that you ignore at your own peril.  Here’s 4 more warnings to carefully heed.

Muscle March

This game actually has a premise, but I’d prefer to let the crazy flow freely over you before explaining it:

A couple of weeks back I took an interest in writing about bizarre Japanese video games.  They are the perfect fodder for blogging.  Their manic imagery naturally inspires pithy commentary and they provide ample latitude to indulge my racism.   However, rather than just taking swipes at cheap jokes, I also saw an opportunity to tackle the subject more academically.

I approached numerous experts in Japanese culture, seeking a rosetta stone that would contextualize the madness that passed for entertainment.  I compiled the results of their survey responses and interview comments for brevity’s sake:

I think that pretty much sums it up.

Nature is the Stephen King of anthropomorphized abstract concepts: It’s the undisputed master of horror. But unlike Stephen King, nature didn’t run out of good ideas twenty years ago. It’s been going strong for millenia, crafting subtle and intricate masterpieces of terror to unsettle, disturb, or outright kill you. Here’s a few more of it’s finer works:

Cymothoa exigua

Cymothoa Exigua, an ocean-dwelling parasite in the pacific ocean, primarily feeds on the Rose Snapper. And that’s not a picture of it being eaten up there. See, Cymothoa Exigua feeds by attching itself to the base of the tongue and draining the blood until it eventually atrophies and falls off. At which point the parasite replaces the tongue – actually functioning as the appendage – thus ensuring that the fish cannot get rid of it without starving to death.

It’s the only parasite that actually replaces a body part in its host, and apart from making fishing trips rather disturbing when one finds themselves trying to remove a hook from the mouth of the monster from Aliens, it also sets a terrifying bar for all the other parasites out there. I’m not saying that this trend will continue, or that you can expect to find your penis replaced by segmented translucent millipede in the near future, I’m just saying that if that does happen, you should probably run to the doctor immediately, provided that your legs have not been replaced by tapeworms in the interim.

Vampire Moth

This is the Vampire Moth, and it doesn’t need a lot of explaining. It is a moth that sucks your blood. And that is terrible. You worry about bloodsucking from mosquitoes, leeches, and lawyers, and now you have to worry about it from moths too? No longer can you say “don’t worry, honey, it’s just a moth!” and be the brave soldier for your loved ones. No, now you’re the one screaming “vampire!” and then hiding under your bed with a cross everytime you see a butterfly.

They’re a recently discovered species, and the blood-sucking mechanism is considered a “logical evolution” from the fruit piercing mechanism present in many other moths. Take note: Everything that eats fruit is going to “logically evolve” into a vampire. I didn’t fucking say that; that’s science. Take it up with them.

Hatchet Fish

This is the Deep Sea Hatchetfish, so named for the hatchet-like body shape. It grows to about four inches in size, and like most deep sea creatures, it is bioluminescent. Unlike other deep sea dwellers, however, the hatchet fish has the unique ability to deeply unsettle you for the rest of your years by simply turning to face you:

Whereupon it ceases to be a fish and instead becomes a phantom escaped from the Room of Lost Souls, here to haunt the living out of jealousy for their flesh., While objectively I know that the Deep Sea Hatchetfish makes no particular sound, I swear to god that I can hear that thing screaming right now, and I’m pretty sure I only have 7 days to live because of it.

Sydney Funnel Web Spider

The Sydney Funnel Web Spider hails from the land of the Plagued Mother Of Horrors – The Kingdom of the Queen of Monsters, The World of Ancient and Unspeakable Horror – where old and terrifying gods sleep eternally, breathing their noxious miasma of choking fear across this world:

The land of Australia.

It’s one of the deadliest spiders in the world, and unfortunately that old adage “it’s more afraid of you than you are of it,” does not apply to the Syndney Funnel Web Spider: It’s not fucking afraid of you at all. It’s infamous for being one of the most “notoriously aggressive” species, and it will attack immediately when provoked. So no, it’s not “more afraid of you than you are of it,” unless you’ve suffered head trauma that has rendered you functionally incapable of registering fear, or are Daredevil.

The venom of the Syndney Funnel Web Spider can kill you quite painfully within 40 minutes, and since you can find the males wandering incessantly during the summer months, frequently  living in garages, yards, and houses all around Sydney, it probably will. Smashing it is ill-advised, because it’s got little spider rage issues and if you miss, it will probably come after you like Mel Gibson in Payback. But drowning is also not a good idea: The Syndney Funnel Web Spider can survive a full day immersed in water, and are also frequently found in swimming pools.

So hey, vacation in Australia! If you’re too scared of sharks to go in the ocean, take a dip in the pool where you only have to risk the word’s most deadly, snorkeling, furious spider.

Giant Anteater

The Giant Anteater, as anybody with reading comprehension skills can tell you is both giant and an anteater. It’s found mostly in central and southern America, and it’s quite cute in a fucked-up-elongated-face kind of way, like Sarah Jessica Parker. Not so cute? These things:

That’s the claw of a giant anteater laid next to the claw of a Velociraptor. You remember Velociraptors, right? From Jurassic Park? There was that really scary speech about how they use these enormous claws to disembowel you, remember? Yeah, the giant anteater is just like that , except for one thing:

The top claw up there – the bigger one – that’s the anteater.

It uses these god damn gigantic claws to kill jungle cats, which are its only natural predator. It can swipe quite rapidly, using a sweeping scythe-like motion to slash at predators or, if cornered, will grab enemies in a “bear hug,” and squeeze the claws through their body. So is it still adorable now that you know it’s basically an Iron Maiden for jaguars?

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Follow Robert on Twitter, on Facebook, or his own site, I Fight Robots. It’s been fun everybody! This is the last of my blogs here at Atom, and I hope you enjoyed them.

In the world of multiplayer first person shooters there are few more reviled than the “campers”.  These wretches are like an opportunistic infection, laying in wait for players at their most vulnerable before pouncing.  Typically this happens at locations where resurrected characters respawn, from largely unreachable sniping positions or shadowing the most emotionally unstable person in team chat.

And just like that, Maya knew she had a new bitch for the night

You’re not alone in your distaste for campers.  Nothing cheeses off the military more than combatants who insist on pussy strategies like not marching straight toward them.  It was a problem they struggled with for years until Obama found a pamplet that piqued his interest:

What Alliant Techsystems brought to the table is nothing short of a death knell for the camper scourge.  The XM25 rifle is sophisticated, powerful, and looks fantastic in earth tones.

I know you can’t see it, but I assure you the rifle is there.  And 15 ninjas.

The XM25 uses a laser to calculate the exact distance to whatever obstruction is housing the combatant.  Though the laser isn’t dangerous itself, the gun does provide an external speaker to make the “pew! pew!” sound while firing (it and can also be color-coded to red or blue, depending on whether you’re a good or bad-guy).  The rifle doesn’t just determine this information for score-keeping purposes – the distance is required so the gun can tell these 25 mm bullets how far to travel before they explode.

Think about the implications here. The typical options in this scenario have been a grenade launcher, which are limited in range and accuracy, or a $70k javelin missle.  With these bullets we can deliver pinpoint accurate fragging but still have budget left over to fund my Terminator Puppy initiative.

Admit it.  You’d never see it coming.

The bullets have their own microchip to store how far to travel before exploding.  Once fired, the bullet’s magnetic transducer creates an alternating current as it spins, which it uses to count rotations and calculate how far it has traveled.  We have officially entered an era where we are firing bullets better at math than we are.  Frankly, I thought it would come sooner.

It gets better.  As if having a rifle clip filled with tiny suicide bombers wasn’t enough, the operator can fine tune the point of explosion a couple of meters in front or behind the target.  This will defeat seeking cover behind a car, kneeling in a trench or even huddling inside a building.  This is a game-changer In terms of combat strategy, explaining the tone of the XM25’s new advertising campaign:

A weapon this sophisticated borders on the fantastic.  You can now pilot bullets with the type of control you’d only expect to get with some kind of telekenesis.  You’re firing MINDBULLETS.  Suck on that, Professor X.

No one could say that Michael Moore didn’t deserve what he got

Ian Chesman isn’t going to feel safe ever again, but with terminal cowardice that’s to be expected.  He often hides in his bunker at iancheesman.wordpress.com.

The Atom Original Series, “Stickman Exodus” recently took home the Webby for Online Film & Video: Animation and the People’s Voice Award to boot.

Check out “Stickman” creator Chris Ford’s shorter-than-short acceptance speech. With the five word minimum, it’s hard out there for an animator!

We’ve done features about the most terrifying animals in the world, and features detailing the many ways that robots seek to kill us. We were getting a terror gangbang from both ends – natural and artificial – but just when you thought all the holes were filled, a new contender steps in and violates you in ways you didn’t even know were possible. That new contender: Robot Animals!

Can I… can I say gangbang on the internet?

Mechanical Tiger

This is Sheva, a walking mechanical tiger built by Kezanti, a Belgian artist.

What it’s used for:

Like most of these robots, it’s an art project. However, unlike most of these robots, Kezanti is at least awesome enough to ride it around town, albeit very, very slowly. Although, honestly, what’s the hurry? You already have a robot tiger mount; you ain’t got shit else that needs doing.

What I Would Use It For:

Confusing the fuck out of real tigers. If we have to live in irrational fear of Terminators, I don’t see why tigers get a free pass.

Giant Twin Robot Spiders

This is one of a pair of giant robot spiders built by a French group called La Machine, for display at Expo Y150, a celebration in Yokohama on the 150th anniversary of the port.

What it’s used for:

The Expo Y150 festival was a showcase of both technology and art. And, seeing as how it was in Japan, these concepts were expressed with a giant horrifying robot.,The expo also serves as a kind of “terror reservoir” for anybody afraid of:

A. Spiders

B. Robots

C. Giants or

D. All of the above.

Ensuring that, over the next 150 years, no child will go untraumatized with such a vast pool of fear having been collected.

What I Would Use It For:

Exactly – and I mean EXACTLY – the same thing. I would run it into an unsuspecting town and use it to terrorize the population. The only difference between La Machine’s approach and mine, is that I would be perched atop a nearby water tower cackling maniacally and wearing a top hat while shouting spider-based puns at the victims.

40 Foot Tall Mechanical Elephant

This is the Sultan’s Elephant, the flagship exhibit of a show by the same name. It’s put on by the Royal De Luxe Theatre Company, and is mostly based on the more innocuous and endearing Arabic folklore – as opposed to the non-endearing folklore where women get raped by whirlwinds and such. That would not make for nearly as nice a parade.

What it’s used for:

It’s the centerpiece to a gigantic spectacle that tours the world and ignites the imaginations of children. Or it’s just compensating for the penis of whoever’s driving it. Because let’s face it, if we assume the guy in the black Hummer has size issues, the guy in the 40 foot tall robot elephant must be anatomically irrelevant.

What I would use it for:

Fucking killing Legolas. LET’S SEE YOU BRING IT DOWN NOW THAT IT IS ALSO A ROBOT, YOU HANDSOME, BASTARD ELF-WOMAN .

Robo-Snake

This is “snake,” a robot built by SINTEF.

What it’s used for:

It’s actually a rescue robot, designed to slip between the rubble to reach earthquake survivors, which it will then locate and relay footage of to rescuers. Sure, it might save a great deal of survivors from collapsed buildings, but it will kill just as many victims with heart conditions who, even assuming they survive the stress of the earthquake and subsequent trapping, will immediately stroke out and die when a fucking robot snake comes slithering out from the darkness, shining its one malevolent eye and twisting its creepy transparent carapace about their legs.

What I would use if for:

Probably to scare girls, like a fifth grader. A fifth grader with a robot arsenal at his disposal.

Animatronic Dinosaurs

These are but a few of the animatronic dinosaurs featured at the London Natural History Museum.

What it’s used for:

A spectacle for the kids who, while possibly bored to tears looking at rocks and bones, would probably instantly reconsider a potential career in archaeology after one short field trip to visit the Dino-Bots.

What I would use it for:

Transport. Nobody’s going to give you a ticket if you accidentally leave your solid-steel T-Rex double-parked.

Fire Horse

This is the Fire Horse: A mechanical, fire-breathing horse built by Paka.

What it’s used for:

It was an exhibition featured in Burning Man which, for those of you unaware, is like Mad Max with hippies.

What I would Use it for:

Making horse racing interesting again. Throw a tiny man on top of that thing, then show me it pounding into the final stretch while shooting fire at its competitors, and you can just have my money – straight up. Everybody’s already a winner in that scenario.

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Follow Robert on Twitter, on Facebook, or his own site, I Fight Robots.

It’s a rough time to be a deity.  It used to be all they had to do to get a little shine was cure a disease, but these days there’s always a douchebucket scientist ready to take the credit with their medicine or some such nonsense.  Way to fuck up omnibenevolence, Science. Worse, courtesy of alarmist zombie flicks, gods can’t even raise the dead without creating an uproar. 

 

Grandiose miracles have curiously had to take a back seat to more obscure ones to receive notice.  Subtle tactics like influencing the outcome of a sporting event worked pretty well, but there was never any guarantee that athletes would thank the right god.  Jesus has been coasting on Odin’s work in football for years. 

The reason this happens is simple – Jesus’ marketing staff OWNS.  They understand a miracle without a recognizable stamp is up for grabs.  They also pioneered the mantra "The quickest way to a believer’s heart is through their stomach".  For some reason our primal instincts seem to crave gods that are as powerful as they are delcious.  Lord Ganesha appearing in a flower is precious and all, but hardly very appetizing: 

Hey, L.G., nobody wants their miracle to be a garnish.

 

I don’t want to tell you celestial beings how to do your job (I so do), but allow me to trot out a few examples of miracles closer to the mark.

1. Marmite Messiah

 

If this looks like a baby-shit stain to you, the reality is you’re not far off.  This is marmite, a byproduct of beer brewing, that is used for a toast spread.  It is popular in the UK, presumably because their breads taste worse than yeast turds or the population have their tongues scalded with acid as part of a coming of age ceremony.

I don’t think this is Jesus’ best work.  Something about the eyebrows on this one gives me a bit more Charles Manson than son of God:

 

 

2. Kit-Kat Khrist

 

Maybe it’s more Bearded Bobby Deniro than Buddy Christ, but there’s no denying this is the most delectable miracle yet.  Still you’d think someone with omnipotence would know a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup would be the more sanctified choice.

 

3. Our Lady Of Limburger

 

The clarity of the image on the grilled cheese sandwich is undeniable, but I do have to question if it is a truly a miracle.  The creator looks as if she’s no stranger to a diet rich in carbs and molten cheese sauces.  it was probably just a matter of time before she made a series of sandwiches accidentally inscribed with the collective works of Shakespeare.

 

4. Allah Tags The Produce Aisle

Belief in Allah is not only a means to salvation, but it cures scurvy as well.

 

For some reason Allah only puts his name on fresh fruit and vegetables.  No wonder most Americans find him so foreign.

 

5.  Teach A Man To Fish Stick, He’ll Eat (Poorly) Forever
 

For those unfamiliar with the biblical account of Jesus, there is very little documentation about his teenage years.  This is because relgious leaders felt that the canon would be negatively impacted by revealing what this picture so clearly shows – Jesus was Batman’s archnemesis Two-Face.

6. Betcha Can’t Save Just One!

 

According to 55 year old Rosalie Dawson, this chip bears the image of Jesus Christ.  It’s a shame that God opted to bless her potato chip rather than cure her glaucoma, but if she’s convinced Drinky Crow is yahweh who am I to argue?

Pictured: Her Own Personal Jesus

 

7. Cinna-saint

 

It’s unusual for saints to make appearances like this, but after Mother Teresa’s death got upstaged by Princess Di she was desperate for some comeuppance.  The validity of this miracle was debated by The Vatican for some time until a cardinal noted these unusual markings inside one of the roll’s folds:

 

8.  Cheesus

Though this was uncovered years ago, it is still a controversial object.  Many theologens contend it is indisputably an extruded, deep-fried manifestation of the crucifiction.  Others contend it is "some dude just rockin’ the fuck OUT."

 

 

9. Mary + Jesus Jawbreaker

 

Caveat emptor: There is no guarantee this will actually taste like Jesus or his mother. 

I definitely can see Mary and her veil, but Jesus seems to be an oversized prada bag. 

 

10. Pious Pop-tart

Pop-tarts enjoyed the notoriety from this so much, they launched a whole new suite of flavors including Seraphic Strawberry, Chaste Chocolate Chip, and I Can’t Believe It’s Not Eucharist.

 

If there was one thing the ’90s were all about it was, inexplicably, anthropomorphized animals that were in some way “radical.” It all started with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, but it quickly and rapidly devolved from there, until most children’s television was naught but horrifically mutated animals skateboarding on pizza. Here are the worst offenders:

Street Sharks

Street Sharks was a show about four idiots who went to meet their dad in an abandoned sewer because a man with an eyepatch who refers to people as “creatures” asked them to. Then he turned them into sharks, which came as a huge surprise to absolutely nobody. What was surprising, however, were the kickin’ abs he decided to mutate into them. But…why? Are sharks notorious for their washboard gut-muscles? Or better yet, how? My god, did he…did he isolate the gene for kickin’ abs?

I guess four idiots is a small price to pay for progress…

The intro to Street Sharks is notable for several reasons: First, its liberal use of the term “Jawsome!” which is either the best catchphrase ever, or the tragic result of a massively mutated shark face trying and tragically failing to speak like people. And second, please note the liberal use of the “exploding through walls” shot. Apparently contractors in the ‘90s were so extraordinarily shitty that drywall exploded like an old pinto everytime you bumped into a wall. Here’s how the marketing meeting for Street Sharks probably went:

Kirk: “We need a show to compete with Ninja Turtles.”

Alan: “Well, what’s scarier than ninjas and turtles?”

Bill: “Black dudes and sharks.”

Kirk: “…”

Bill: “No, seriously guys. It’ll work! Like, sharks combined with rough and tumble gang members!”

Alan: “Actually I think he’s got something there, but what will we call it?”

Kirk: “Ghetto Sharks?”

Alan: “Gang Sharks?”

Kirk: “Uh…Urban Sharks?”

Bill: “N*GGER SHARKS!”

Kirk: “Bill, honestly – do you need to see somebody? You’ve got some issues.”

Bill: “JAWSOME!”

Cowboys of Moo Mesa

The Cowboys of Moo Mesa dared to ask the question: What if cowboys were like…actual cows?

And the answer was: It’d be pretty much the same.

There was also a villainous bull, a “sexy” cow-damsel that the cowboys tussled over, and an adorable calf-boy sidekick for comic relief. So basically, it was Indiana Jones and The Temple of Doom only…everybody was cows… and they were in the wild west and…okay, it’s not “basically” anything: It’s just a screwed up conglomeration of stolen ideas, laced with confused concepts, and swirled with a nauseating smidge of bestiality. But hey, if you learn anything from Cowboys of Moo Mesa, let it be this: The bad guy was a cow too. That means that some cows are sons of bitches, and it’s okay to eat them no matter what hippies say.

The Mighty Ducks

Do you remember America’s brief fascination with Emilio Estevez, skating based sports, and the virtues of a can-do attitude in the face of seemingly insurmountable difficulty? That all culminated in the feel-good hockey film, The Mighty Ducks, which was basically just a palette swap of The Bad News Bears starring the best Young Gun. The movie revolved around a jaded Emilio taking a team of misfit kids to the hockey championship, and it did so well they made a cartoon out of it!

Wait….what the fuck was that clip? What did that have to do with literally anything? The children are now genetically engineered duck-warriors… with cybersuits and laserswords? But…they still play hockey in between fighting aliens? This is what happens when you hand over script development to an insane foreigner whose only English words are “ducks” and “hockey,” then retranslate it back into English, and then shoehorn some aliens into there too for no particular reason.

But hey, as long as kids buy some thirty dollar Ducktrucks, it all works out, right?

Samurai Pizza Cats

Samurai Pizza Cats almost doesn’t belong here; the show was more of a parody of the ‘90s surge in television shows about surfing furries than a genuine effort. But still, there they are: Cybernetic Samurai cats who like pizza as much as they like wacky shenanigans. Much like the Power Rangers, this was originally a Japanese show that was given English voiceovers so terrible it was almost racist. However, unlike the Power Rangers, there is something very, very wrong with you if you find yourself wanting to fuck the pink one.

Extreme Dinosaurs

The Extreme Dinosaurs were both extreme and dinosaurs. There. You are now filled in on their epic backstory. Oh wait, they also fight the Reckless Raptors. You should probably know that too I suppose. Now, aside from beating up on Velociraptors with poor impulse control, the Extreme Dinosaurs also happened to have the best theme song in existence:

In the spirit of true trash cinema, “Hot Sluts” has all the good stuff: gratuitous skin, perfect B-movie dialog, nonstop punches and stabbings and shootings.

So gather the entire fam’ around the screen and enjoy. Watch Grandpa get pumped, pull a Benjamin Button and shed a couple dozen years — because that’s what watching HOT, SLUTTY BABES can do to an old man!

Now what depraved mind made this series about an innocent girl who takes a cocktail waitress job at “Scenarios,” the sleaziest of nightclubs? None other than comedian and Late Night with Jimmy Fallon head writer, A.D. Miles. Check out more of his acting and directing handiwork in “Horrible People” and “Wainy Days.”

The “Hot Sluts” cast is pretty smokin’, especially with Alison Brie (Mad Men) in the lead, with her doe-eyes and natural endowments. And Sandy Martin (Napoleon Dynamite) adds some good ruthlessness as the club owner. In fact, all the characters would be perfectly at home in Switchblade Sisters or Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!

So slut on and cheapen yourself with this awesome series. It’ll teach you (in a way) that despite the smutty, slutty odds… always follow your dreams!

The problem with science is that it is too damn hard.  It’s technically daunting and the questions tend to infinitely regress.  You can assert that your dog shows a statistical predilction for humping your sofa cushions over your slippers, but if someone asks “Why?” you’ve got to start all over.

“Per the non-parametric correlation coefficients, he should be banging Charmander right now…”

It only gets hairier if you’re taking a stab at the bigger questions of the universe, like the folks working with the Hadron Collider.  When the dust finally settles on its reconstruction, we can only hope they’ll come up with answers that make some sense…

This is why many scientists have chosen to swipe that the low-lying academic fruit.  If you only pursue knowledge in the known, you can get published without the peer-review gangbang.  Better yet, courtesy of the endless taxpayer generosity, the money is just as good.  So if you have the stones to put on a lab coat and boldly assert truisms like “Gasping laughter may induce asthma attacks” or “Puppies make people feel good” you may already be a scientist on par with the ones in these actual studies.

Hypothesis: Drunken Gay Men Enjoy Sex

Abstract: Science has recently uncovered a phenomenon wherein young, attractive people with ample access to intoxicants have a tendency to enjoy themselves.  This has toppled the previous paradigm that pubescent youth yearn for nothing more than quiet evenings of bible study at home with plutonic associates.  In order to understand this exponential rise in debauchery, we must get in front of the slut curve and observe a far sluttier country for context.  We selected Argentina as a worthwhile candidate via the 2003 paper from Jerry Falwell’s Liberty University:

Materials: Morally bankrupt people, preferably men that are gay or extremely bicurious.  An Argentinian bar, preferably with poor lighting and that trance-inducing music that goes BOOOMP-sheh-BOOOMP-sheh-BOOOMP-sheh (note: music that goes UMP-UMP-UMP-UMP-UMP-scheeeet-UMP-scheeeeet will also be acceptable).  All subjects must be screened for condoms as any safe sex may skew prefered results.

Conclusions: This 2 year National Institutes Of Health (NIH) study began in 2008 and has yet to conclude, though initial results suggest that acting as inebriated disease vectors isn’t a primary motivation:

Cost To Taxpayer: $400,000

Hypothesis: Ducks Like Water

Abstract: A set population of farmed ducks are given equal access to a pond, a trough and a shower.  The duck language has over 54 different words to describe water, so it shouldn’t prove difficult for them to adapt.  We will track where the majority of their duck activities take place.

Materials: Pond, trough, shower, ducks, duck transponders.  Note: As detailed below, the transponders MUST be waterproof.

Conclusions: The ducks indicated a strong liking for the shower over the trough and pond.  This indidcates either a preference for simulated rainfall or non-stagnant water.  The latter is supported by a principle discussed in my previous paper, “Why Do All Ponds Smell Like Wet Ox Taint?”

Duck farms may be able to institute better duck hygeine by installing showers.  Since very few farmers can readily absorb the cost of installing multiple showering facilities, they may find it more cost effective to offer the occasional duck blood sacrifice to Aquatron, Rain God Of The Essex Region.

Cost To Taxpayers: £300,000

Hypothesis: Prostitutes May Be At Risk For AIDS

Abstract: For the purposes of this study, a “prostitute” is defined as “your mom” (lol! j/k).

For the purposes of this study, a “prostitute” is defined as “Anyone who accepts cash as a deposit for receiving further deposits in a seedy motel 25 minutes later.  It will focus specifically on female sex-workers in Thailand, which essentially means at least 40% of them will be transgendered because that’s just how they roll.  Transgendering so commonplace that incentives like this now exist:

The AIDS virus is 3 times as common per percent population in Thailand as in the United States, so there is some interest in uncovering modalities that foster its explosive spread.  Our businessmen deserve cleaner whores, by God!

Materials: 60 prostitutes. 1 digital camera and tripod to capture all interactions for later review with my wife.  1 round trip ticket to Thailand.  2 adult prescriptions for Cipro or the strongest experimental antibiotic available on the market.

Conclusions: Nearly 100% of the prostitutes allow men to insert their penises in them, which may have some bearing on the AIDS transmission rate.   Though, in fairness, most of the prostitutes were not conscientious about washing their hands nor using a ass-gasket when using public bathrooms, so it is probably a toss up.  My team is going to need a good deal more tranny sex to make a definitive finding on this.

Cost To The Taxpayer: $178,000 (but considering the NIH has spent $2.6M teaching Chinese prostitutes to drink less while working, this is essentially a bargain).

Ian Cheesman is aware these studies sound wasteful, but when you consider New Zealand spent $12M to discover their wine tastes like cat pee it really puts it in perspective. Thanks to Fark for being invaluable in my research and thanks to me for making all of this come together so beautifully.