If your kids resemble these ones...at any age...beat them.

Compliments of the Yeti.

Poopsocking

This is a little more love from the Teacher (via Urban Dictionary) to keep you happy all Easter weekend:

1.	poopsocking	144 up, 19 down
	Defacating into a sock in order to avoid having to get up from your computer to use the toilet. Often utilized when playing online role playing games. John was poopsocking all the way to level 60 this weekend. by Ken Mar 14, 2005 email it

Thus continues Dr. Yeti's love affair with our ever-changing lexicon.

Sarah Jessica Parker looks like a waxed gorilla taint.

Remember in the movie Zoolander how Derek essentially had one look, but he kept calling it different things like Blue Steel and La Tigre? Everyone seemed blissfully unaware or at least kept their mouth shut because he was really, really, really...ridiculously...good looking. That is, until the end of the movie where Will Ferrel's character Mugatu had had enough and called him out on it.

Well, my life has been a lot like Mugatu's (you'll never know how long I've been waiting to say that). Sometimes, it feels like, "I'm taking crazy pills."

Case in point - Sarah Jessica Parker.

She has to be the ugliest woman I've ever seen...or at least the ugliest one that assaults my eyeballs via television and movies. I mean, this chick looks like a gargoyle that's had a bad crystal meth habit for two years. She could crush Bill Cowher with her jawline and hide M&Ms in her wrinkles. Also, to steal a phrase from Maddox, as a guy that knows dick about fashion, she dresses like a blind retard.

Picture from http://www.wwtdd.com//ul/3695-sjp.jpg, see WWTDD for scathing article.

Despite all of these plainly obvious facts, the creators of Sex and the City somehow managed to convince people that SJP isn't a hideous beast but instead some kind of fashionable female icon. Seriously, whose idea was it? And how can people be this blind? Just because she's on TV and commercials for perfume doesn't mean she's not the equivalent of ocular pollution.

Now, to switch gears for just a moment, I'd like to remind you that I disapprove of Maxim Magazine. To me, it's the total gaylord "man"-equivalent of Cosmo. So, just over a year ago, I threw down the gauntlet and told the douches in charge of Maxim to either shape up or go feltch themselves.

I'm not saying there wasn't some initial autofeltchation, but eventually they took my advice and straightened themselves out. How?

Maxim just named SJP as the Unsexiest Woman Alive!

I've never felt more vindicated in my entire life. Thank you Maxim, thank you so much. Also, thank you for writing this:

How the hell did this Barbaro-faced broad manage to be the least sexy woman in a group of very unsexy women and still star on a show with 'sex' in the title? Pull your skirt down, Secretariat, we´d rather ride Chris Noth.

Life is good.
.

This is our 600th post, BAM!

Last night, I worked my ninja-magic and fixed the Sciencette's computer (the Tech Help Desk at Pitt had conveniently broken it for her). This morning, we made a bet about when a science talk was going to be. If she won, I had to drive her to work for a week and drop her off right at the door. If I won, she had to tell people that the only way I could fix her computer was by teabagging it.


Feel free to ask her what I did to fix her computer today.

Compliments of the Teacher:

http://www.amazon.com/Truth-About-Chuck-Norris-Greatest/dp/1592403441

Props to my peeps.

It's almost Easter, so it's time for most American Christians to make their way to church for the first time this year. It's also the time of the devil though...

You know what I'm talking about. They're small, brightly colored, and filled with some sort of marshmallow-pure evil fusion. My grandmother likes them stale, the Sciencette likes them all year long, and the Teacher wants to ban their production.

I'm talking about Peeps:
Those filthy, filthy creatures. Kill you Peeps!

Cheers to juxtapositioning!

The whole time I was watching this, I was waiting for the Teacher to show up and rock a sweet solo.

It's like a Vulcan mind-meld...except between a butt and a toilet seat.

Several of Dr. Yeti's millions and millions of fans have taken the time to email me links to this amazing news story. Feel free to click the link and read it for yourself, but the short and the long of it is that a woman sat on a toilet for 2 years straight before her boyfriend called for help.

Seriously, she was there for so long that "the Ness City woman's skin had grown around the seat." I didn't even know skin could do that! "We pried the toilet seat off with a pry bar and the seat went with her to the hospital," [Sheriff] Whipple said. "The hospital removed it."

Treat this as a lesson people. The next time you think it would be a good idea to read just one more chapter in your book or one more magazine article while you're on the hopper, don't. Your skin could decide it likes the seat a little too much and fuse your ass squaw to it.

Also, if your friend or significant other gets trapped by his or her ass, please don't wait two years to do something about it. At the very least, call the Yeti; if he's not ass-trapped himself, I'm sure he'd help you out.


Dude...do you think maybe this whole thing was orchestrated by that lady's taint? You know, maybe it got jealous of her other body parts and decided to stage a marathon sit-in protest. Alternatively, she could have an alien symbiont living in her colon (much like Hoss Damon was the host for the Hizzy) that took control of her body but got confused. I bet that happens a lot more frequently than most people realize.

s to the t to the d's

somewhere, fwank sobs quietly...

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/23574940/

we did it again!

dr. yeti has again beaten the south. the south is becoming our bitch. what is it this time? the traffic on our blog has, in 2+ years, surpassed the traffic on the carolina crusher's website!!!! the "crusher" has had a website since 2004...yet more proof that things are slower in the south. aside from that, everyone knows that bigfoot is like the king of monster trucks...not to mention my idol.

raise your glasses high (or vaporizer if you are dr. snail) and toast dr. yeti. some day those rebels will learn.

Brilliant!

Apparently, Washington State is home to the smartest people in the world:

OLYMPIA, Wash. (AP) — Washington lawmakers have approved a pilot program that will allow beer and wine tasting in 30 grocery stores statewide in an effort to market local products.

The measure now heads to the governor, after passing the Senate 29-17 on Monday. It earlier passed the House.

The one-year program, strongly supported by the state's microbrewery and wine industries, allows shoppers to sample as much as 4 ounces of beer or wine. Supporters say it allows small wineries or breweries with no marketing budget to get their products out to the public.

But opponents contend the program sets a bad example by exposing children to alcohol consumption. (from here)

These "opponents" sound like assholes. What kind of tard doesn't want free beer? Let's face it, kids are going to be exposed to alcohol. Eventually, they're even going to drink it. Wouldn't you want to at least teach them the good things to drink at the store?

I don't know how smart the 4 ounce sampler is though. Why would I even buy beer if I could just drink 4 oz of everything they have?

Pennsylvania...kill you for having archaic alcohol laws!

a new word

several months ago, the scientist came up with his own expression, "total gaylord". as much as i can tell, this expression has caught on. it is used almost on a daily basis here in rva. well, get ready folks, we here at dr. yeti (and by we, i mean me, the yeti) have come up with a new word!!!!

this word came to me the other night in a dream. i woke up saying it and i must say, i was damn impressed with my delusional sleeping mind. so are you ready for the word?????

wait for it...

wait for it....

wait for it.....

Chickicult: to borrow from dictionary.com

1.	not easily or readily done by a female; requiring much labor, skill, or planning to be performed successfully by a female; hard for a female

2.	hard for a female to understand or solve

3.	hard for a female to deal with or get on with

4.	hard to please or satisfy a female

yes. that's right. you read that correctly. chickicult. now i know this may sound sexist, but i implore you dear reader, stop being so chickicult and get in the kitchen and make me a pie!!!

The Austrians are at it again.

Here's an informative little article from our good friend JP:

Top Ten Port Authority Moments

The staff here at Dr. Yeti likes nothing more than a cold beer and a hot piece of blogotry. We especially enjoy when guest authors send in their stories, because it less work for us, and our friends tend to be better writers anyway. Today, we've got a Top 10 List from our new adjunct blogger Lil'schmeggie:

Number 10: Rocky Balboa

One morning while my trolley was stopped at Washington Junction, I looked over to the outbound platform. There was a man doing a one handed push-up wearing a big puffy winter coat and a backpack. He got skills.

Number 9: Oh yeah that’s the stuff

I was sitting on the bus and started to hear some sort of hissing noise coming from in front of me. I didn’t see anything so I went back to my dazing out. I heard it again, but again saw nothing. Now I am at attention trying to catch the culprit. I see the man sitting in front of me turn his body towards the window in an attempt to block peoples view of him. He proceeds to put what looks like a can of spray paint in his mouth, pushes the button and inhales. I didn’t smell any kind of chemical that you would expect somebody to be huffing. So I try to look over his shoulder to catch a glimpse at the label to identify the product. Eventually I see that it is a can of compressed air. You know, the shit you would use to clean the crumbs and dust out of your keyboard. I have no idea what this guy thought he was accomplishing by huffing compressed air but perhaps it was doing something, because it definitely seemed like he had managed to kill off some of his brain cells.

Number 8: Hello Clarice

Every once in a while, I see this guy that gets on the trolley in Castle Shannon. At this point the trolley is pretty full and you have to stand. Well, this guy stands in the back of the car with his hands reached up to the support rail overhead. However, he does not simply hold on to the bar for support. He somehow manages to have both hands free above the bar with which he compulsively folds origami. I am not sure about this, but don’t people with neurotic impulses like that usually have serial killer tendencies? One of these days I am not going to make it home.

Number 7: “Damn you got a big mouth”

As I wait for a bus in Oakland one day, there was a man walking around asking for money (which I see happen at least twice a week). I say no, and he passes by to hit up the rest of the people waiting. He starts to make his way back in my direction, and I just happen to yawn. I wasn’t really able to cover my mouth because my hands were full so he felt the need to say “DAAAAMMMMN you got a big mouth!” Only I can manage to be made fun of by a man begging for change.

Number 6: Tumble of the One-legged Man

I often see this guy with one leg on the bus. He has crutches and it always amazes me how he maneuvers on the bus with more graceful ease than I can muster. Well, one day he is about to get off at his stop, and the Asshole bus driver slams on the brakes while the bus is on a hill. The man just tips over and tumbles straight back and hits the floor hard. Everybody is horrified and they scramble to help. It was such a mix of emotions…I was pissed at the bus driver, and I was worried for the fallen man, and I hate to admit it but I was also holding back laughter because if it was anybody else that had fallen like that it would have been freaking hilarious.

Number 5: Seat Lugy

I sit on the bus minding my own business when a guy behind me starts to cough. He proceeds to hock a lugy and spit it on the seat next to me. He then exits the bus as if nothing had happened. I hope he sits on that dried lugy someday!

Number 4: Melons

Most port authority riders abide by an unspoken rule of unspokeness…you really don’t talk, or even make eye contact for that matter, with any fellow rider unless you know them from the outside world. Well one day these boundaries were shattered and all of the riders on the inbound steel plaza platform came together to gawk at a rider waiting on the outbound side. As soon as I entered the station I walked to my usually spot on the platform, and looked across at the people waiting on the other side like I do everyday. I immediately see a young woman with the most monstrous fake boobs I have ever seen. The girl was about 5’4” and must have been a size 2. I can’t even guess at what the bra size was…but it was enormous. The combined width of the two monstrosities was about double the width of the girls actual body, so obviously they stuck out on either side like two beach balls tied to a broom. I just stared in disbelief. Soon more people join me on the platform. A woman comes up and sees the freak of nature and turns to me and says “I’m sorry I don’t even know you, but what in the hell is that?!?! What is she thinking? They look ridiculous!! She is going to tip over!” Soon everybody within earshot on our platform is commenting and laughing. And wouldn’t you know it, some guy over on the other side approaches the walking sac of saline and tries to make a move. You can tell he gets rejected and he walks away in shame. We are all cracking up at this point. The girl was just standing there, attempting to cross her arms in front of her, which she was unable to do because they would not reach around the mammoth dirty pillows. Hilarious.

Number 3: Fried Chicken for Breakfast

One morning (about 8:30 am) I was on the bus heading to Oakland and there was a man eating a fried chicken leg. People eating on the bus/trolley make me sick regardless of the time or cuisine, but this one took the cake. After he gnawed all the meat off the bone he began sucking on the bone producing the most hideous moist noises. He then proceeded to throw the bone on the floor of the bus for everybody to walk on. Now that’s class!

Number 2: Read All About It

One afternoon on the bus on my way home I start to smell something really pungently foul. But the smell was coming and going, so I thought I might be losing my mind. A couple minutes later, two people get up from their seat and come and sit closer to me in the back of the bus. They look absolutely disgusted and I of course am listening to their discussion. They are saying something like “I can’t believe he did that…I kept smelling something but didn’t know what it was.” So I look towards the area the two people came from. Sure enough there is a giant pile of vom on a city paper sitting on the floor. The smell was worse at this point, probably because the two people moved and cleared a path for the trail of stink. I start to panic. If you know me, you know I do not handle vomit well. If somebody else is sick and I am trying to be supportive, as soon as the smell hits me I am gagging and heaving. I am still traumatized by the sawdust covered piles of puke I had to walk by in elementary school because the janitors didn’t feel they had to clean it up in a timely manner. So my mind was racing…should I try to run past the carcass while I hold my breath and get off at the next stop? I am only about 4 stops away from my usual stop…so should I wait, trying not to breathe, and then run by when we get to my stop? Either way I have to walk right by the barf and its splatter. I decided to wait and I ran off when we got to my stop not even stopping to alert the driver of the situation.

Number 1: Black God vs. White God

It is hard for me to even attempt to capture the number one port authority moment in words. You honestly had to be there. I get on my bus, heading toward Oakland and immediately I can feel an uneasy tension in the air. I started to pick up on some sort of commotion taking place in the back of the bus which was a bit delayed because I was listening to my ipod. I shut off the music and began to experience the most uncomfortable bus ride ever on record. There is a black man in the back of the bus ranting and raving with such rage I have never seen the like of. He is screaming anti-caucasian remarks that were barely complete thoughts including that his “black god is going to kill your white god”. He turns to a nearby white woman and declares that only the devil could come from her womb. The man was inches from the woman’s face screaming. Nobody on the bus knows what in the blue hell to do, so naturally nobody does anything. There is a woman in the front of the bus screaming at the bus driver to do something. The driver was evidently at a loss. I guess as long as the guy wasn’t hurting anybody she felt she could not do anything. This continues for a while until the man starts to creep towards the front of the bus. Every rider is hopeful that the man will get off at the next stop. Along the way he stops at the random white person to curse them out, making sure to call each and every one the devil. He gets halfway to the front and kind of stops. The bus driver starts screaming to the man asking him if he is getting off. The man screams back something about how he will get off when he gets to his spaceship. The driver finally threatens to call the police and he starts screaming “POLICE, POLICE” at the top of his lungs. Eventually I guess the driver won the verbal battle and the man got off the bus. The remainder of the trip was just as awkward as when the crazy was present. Riders, black, white, Asian, Indian, and Latino alike, refused to make eye contact with a soul.

Birthday Beers!

Ladies and gentleyetis, today is my sister Goiter's birthday. In the past, Goiter gave us hell for writing about Chuck Norris instead of her, so this blog's for you!

If you're not familiar with our archives, Goiter has met A.C. Slater, gone on a European adventure, has friends that know what rotting French people smell like (basically like their cheese), and is a very good fisherwoman.

Now that you know everything about her, what do you think I should buy her for her birthday? Normally, I like to get people booze, but she doesn't really drink much that I've ever seen. She's not even a big fan of beer; Goiter claims that it tastes like "dirty sea water." Regardless, does anyone have any good ideas?

Making Babies

It's come to my attention that after people get married, they start making babies. I know it doesn't always happen in that order, but it's not my fault that people don't know how to use birth control (blame it on the churches).

Anyway, babies are good because when they grow up a little, they can be your little helper monkeys. Plus, you get to claim them as dependents, and the government gives you a little extra cash on tax day. Sure, there's the whole diaper changing thing, but most of the people I know still soil themselves anyway.

With all of those bonuses in mind, the staff here at Dr. Yeti would like to congratulate Shan Diesel and Bran Diesel on the birth of their first helper monkey...er, child! I'm not sure what her nickname is going to be yet, but I'm open for tasteful suggestions. I won't steal their thunder by giving you all the details (weight, height, etc) either, so drop the happy couple a line sometime soon to wish them well. If and when you do talk to Shannon, ask him if he put away his laundry yet. The last I heard, it was a teetering towering pile of doom, and that can't be baby-safe.

We would also like to ask our millions and millions of fans that are thus far barren to go forth and multiply (we're looking at you The Teacher). We need to be as many children's drunk uncles (drunkles, if you will) as possible.

Done and done, go!