Comments

  1. says

    You don’t want it to be Donkey Kong.  Otherwise you’ll have to dodge barrels coming out her vagina the next time you try to have sex with your wife.  That’s just not a cool proposition.

  2. says

    The Donkey Kong bit?  Or the fact that I can see Darth Vader’s helmet in the ultrasound? 

    The whole post is a bit of an imitation of Phil Plait at Bad Astronomy, one of my favoritest blogs ever (and Phil, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, just remember that before getting the restraining order).  He’s got a bit of a fascination with pareidolia, and I can’t say that I blame him, since it’s a really interesting phenomenon that only requires a lot of random noise, and a race that has evolved over time to recognize patterns in random noise lest the beasties in the bushes jump out and eat them.  If there are hundreds of millions of doors out there, someone’s bound to see the Virgin Mary (or Jerry Garcia for that matter) in the wood grain on one of them at least once.

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