1. Louis says

    INB4 “A plant that looks just like a thingy!”*


    * Coincidentally, my thingy looks just like a plant.**

    ** Sequoia sequoia***

    *** Actually Cuscuta europaea {sad tromobone}

  2. ChasCPeterson says

    The hell you talkin bout Louis?
    That thing looks like the pipe of a mottled Dutchman.

  3. Dhorvath, OM says

    When I see these things I always want to reach through the image and tip it to watch the liquid run out. Good thing I don’t see them for real.

  4. Louis says


    I’m seeing thingies everywhere.

    I should get out of this locker room….


    P.S. Everyone knows that PZ posts these things up because they look like thingies. It’s all thingies and hoohoos to PZ, that’s why he’s a biologist.

  5. magic pants, celestial slacker says

    Angiosperms are such exhibitionists. And to think some primate comes along and whacks off a bundle of oozing genitalia to hand to a female of his species and she doesn’t get offended by the suggestion.

  6. A. R says

    Hmm, one wonders if bouquets of penises stuck in vaginas would be acceptable recompense for various marital infractions in a culture of sentient plants.

  7. says

    You know, it’s my wife, Mary, who picks these things out. She’s a psychologist, so maybe she’s running an experiment.

    She’s also a woman. Maybe her mind is just in the gutter?

  8. Louis says

    Antiochus Epiphanes,

    I’ll explain.

    When a mummy and a daddy love each other very much, sometimes the mummy will look at the daddy’s thingy and the daddy will look at the mummy’s hoohoo and they will give each other a special hug. They have to be married to do this or else mummy is a horrible, horrible slut.

    Then the fairies at the bottom of the garden will ask The Baby Jesus to give mummy a baby who they can look after underneath the gooseberry bush until it’s time for Mr Stork to put it in mummy’s tummy and simultaneously deliver it to the hospital. Or trailer, if mummy is poor and a horrible, horrible slut who hates The Baby Jesus.

    Sometimes one mummy and another mummy look at each other’s hoohoos, and sometimes a daddy and another daddy look at each other’s thingies (or to use the biological term: wee-wee. See also: dingle). This is Evil and makes The Baby Jesus cry. This type of behaviour is responsible for hurricanes, floods, house prices collapsing, economic downturns, AIDS, high petrol prices and unhappy hair cuts. But not earthquakes. Ladies’ tatas cause earthquakes.

    If mummy is a horrible, horrible slut who hates The Baby Jesus sometimes she will use something called “country reception”. This is something to do with radio in rural areas and means that mummy does not have babies. This is worse than something else called “a bore shun”, which is when someone is not listened to when talking a lot about The Baby Jesus. “A bore shun” kills babies and is responsible for deafness and Satan worship. “Country reception” is worse than “a bore shun” because it is free and hurts less.

    The reason it is free is because Libraries, who hate The Baby Jesus and America, make Good Honest Baby Jesus Loving Americans pay for mummies who are horrible, horrible sluts. And also for mummies and daddies who only like other mummies and other daddies, which is nearly as wrong as being Black, Mexican, disabled or mad. Not mad in the good way, like rich people, but mad in a naughty way like poor people or daddies who like other daddies.

    I hope this helps.


    P.S. I copied this verbatim from the Discovery Institutes “Thicker End of the Wedge” documents on “Teaching the Controversy in the Reproductive Sciences and Social Policy”. A most enlightening organ.

  9. Louis says

    PZ, #8,

    “The Trophy Wife” (TM, Patent Pending) picks out these photos? This datum combined with the previous post about the perviness of older academics makes for disturbing mental images.

    I’m off for a bit of a lie down. The part of my brain involved in forming mental imagery has just fused into a single macroscopic neuron of filth. I’m not sure this is a good thing.


  10. Blueaussi says


    “It’s all thingies and hoohoos to PZ, that’s why he’s a biologist.”

    Could we possibly stop using such puerile words for a woman’s genitalia? The word is hooHAW, not hoohoo.


  11. Louis says


    Maybe in some hideous, uncivilised, former colony of a proper nation it is. But here in noble Albion we refer to them as “hoohoos”, if at all. And only then do we refer to them during times when Marital Unpleasantness has to occur for the purposes of producing more Englishmen (A Good Thing).



  12. spamamander, hellmart survivor says

    I cannot believe the degenerate discourse occurring on this fine academic “blog”, as the younger generation refers to electronic self-edited “interweb” publications. As anyone of culture and refinement is aware, the only proper terminology in public (when one MUST refer to such debase things as the female anatomy!) is the “ladygarden”. Anything else is simply uncouth and obscene.

  13. peterh says

    But . . but . . but . . it’s designed that way; nothing from The Designer’s Hand can be ridiculous!

  14. Louis says


    Oh my gosh! You’re right! How could I have forgotten the one true and approved term for the nether regions of the Personages Without Pee-Pees.

    I am truly ashamed.


  15. Louis says

    Shaundenney, #18,

    Kirk Cameron

    That is one of the most disgusting terms I have ever read. Utterly revolting. Now stop being such a Kent Hovind and take yourself off the internet for a long hard think.


  16. 'Tis Himself, OM says

    Keep this up and we’ll run out of sniny internets to award to each of you.

  17. DLC says

    Louis, you know, it’s important that when mummy and daddy give each other that special hug, that they remember to close their eyes and think of England. Otherwise, there would be ever-so-many fewer proper English Gentlemen and Ladies. (a very bad thing)
    Oh, and do remember to cover over the – err um — lady garden when bathing. Ahem. Hmm. Excuse me, I’m off to spend a penny.

  18. Louis says

    DLC, #21,

    Well of course! Eyes closed, lights out, socks on. How could I forget?

    Deary me, I am being very absent minded today. What a complete Duane Gish I am being. I’m off to lick the Walter Brown of a diseased camel as punishment.