Penelope is not a boy.

Evidence #1:  Penelope is a girl’s name.

Evidence #2:  When my sister dressed up like Penelope, she did not put on a penis.

Evidence #3:  Today there were three duck eggs in the coop.

Just because two people have sex does not mean that one is a man and one is a woman.  It is the same with ducks.

Blake, you did not see any duck penises or duck vaginas let alone duck semen being ejaculated into a duck vagina.  You tried to sound objective and journalistic, but you did not have all of the facts.

I doubt you even know what a duck vagina or duck penis looks like.  I object to your duxploitative presumptuousness.

I Saw America in My Steak

Last night Liv and I ate these gigantic Sirloin steaks in order to combat our Iron deficiencies.  They were so thick that when I thought they were done and took them off the grill it turned out their middles were still basically raw.  Then we ran out of gas for the grill.  Meanwhile, Liv discovered a particular component of potato anatomy which retains the consistency of raw potato no matter how much you microwave and mash at it.  The answer for the steaks was to put them under the broiler on hi for a few minutes, which blackened them nicely on the surface while leaving the centers pink and juicy.  The broiler, kids.  The broiler is great.

Oh say can you see

Also, when my steak came out of the broiler it looked just like this great nation of ours.  I felt a deep spiritual connection with this great nation of ours as I consumed its likeness in beef form.  Also Liv’s looked like a decapitated sea turtle head.  I think.  She said it looked like an old man’s head.

Half man, half sea turtle, 100% beef

But I think she was stretching it a little bit.  Clearly there was some jealousy involved regarding how the great spirit of America had decided to bless me with its meaty image.  But you know, Liv wants to be blessed by the great spirit of decapitated sea turtle heads, who am I to stop her?