You’ve all heard the urban legend about the Singaporean zookeeper who has to masturbate all the animals every day, right? Well apparently such activities are not all that far-fetched. Taronga Zoo here in Sydney has a male gorilla who isn’t producing any offspring. Recently zoo management proposed knocking him out and having one of the keepers “manually stimulate” him. Unsurprisingly, they all refused (“It was too bloody dangerous,” a zookeeper said last night. “What if he woke up?”) and it’s turned into a big industrial issue. So instead the poor guy is going to be subjected to something called “electro-ejaculation”. Where’s Binatang bin Goncang when you need him?

Hmmm. Sixty-eight bucks (Australian) for a pair of panties? I wonder if I could pass for a Japanese schoolgirl.

There was an informative Ask Yahoo today about “legal blindness”. Apparently if your vision is worse than 20/200, you’re legally blind. Curious, I took off my glasses and held a piece of paper with approximately one centimeter high writing on it (as per the instructions) two feet from my face. As expected, it was an impenetrable blur. So go me! I’m blind.

Wow. John found a spectacular picture of a meteor shower over Uluru (the big red rock in the outback). I’d like to see it in person someday.

What Pulp Fiction character are you? I’m Fabienne. I’m pretty happy about that; she was my favorite female character. What can I say? I like pie. (Link courtesy of Brigita.)

I still got it. I walked up to our local IGA to get some groceries today, which is always fun. (I worked in an American IGA all through high school and the very sight of the checkout girls’ smocks gives me Nam-style flashbacks.) I was grabbing some cheese when I smelled cigarette smoke. I looked over to see this crazy lady I’d seen outside the store. She was wearing a big coat and looking around shiftily while she puffed on her cancer stick. (I don’t think she was homeless, more like just poor and mean.) She set down her empty shopping basket and then ducked down one of the aisles. On a hunch, I followed and peeked down in time to see her stuffing items into her coat pockets. I also noticed that the IGA girls were on to her and had already posted a sentry to keep watch. Satisfied, I went to pick up some conditioner. The crazy lady ended up coming down my aisle, and (this is the creepy part) she walked by me really close and really slow. I think she was hoping to pinch my wallet, which I had safely stashed away. I sauntered away and picked up the rest of my stuff, then headed for the checkouts. As I was paying I saw her trying to duck out the entrance. The head checkout girl headed her off though and asked her about the items in her pockets. I listened as this woman exclaimed, “Oh! How could I have forgotten? I can’t believe it!” She handed the stuff over and skulked off. Personally, I can’t believe they let her go. You’d never get away with something like that in Wolcottville, Indiana.

I wasn’t very good at spotting shoplifters when I started at the store. In fact, I was an easy mark because I was so trusting. We were the only store in a small town, so I got to know just about all the customers. One day a local lady came in and ended up at my register. She was poor and mostly bought alcohol, but she was friendly and I knew one of her grown-up kids. I’d even given her a lift home to her house once when it was raining out since she didn’t have a car. Anyway, she came through my aisle with a cart and bought a couple items. She had a brown grocery bag with some stuff in it already, but she told me she’d already bought it. I trusted her completely. She paid for her stuff and headed out the door. As soon as she hit the parking lot, the manager swooped down. She’d watched her take a 12-pack of beer off the shelf and put it in the bag on the security cameras. Then she killed time until she could be sure I’d be at the register, knowing I wouldn’t question her. They brought her in and called the cops. She was really upset and pleading that she wouldn’t do it again, but they busted her anyway. I felt horrible and stupid that I’d allowed myself to be duped. There are only so many nice people in the world, and every time an asshole takes advantage of one there’s one less. I was a lot more wary after that.

Cue the spooky music. It’s time to start our Coraline discussion. Did it freak you out? Do you have nightmares about doughy-faced button-eyed scary people? Do you really, really want a cat now? (I do.) Enquiring minds want to know.

Note: As I’m swamped with work at the mo, I’ll leave it up to you guys to start the ball rolling. I finished the book yesterday, so I’ll jump in as soon as I can.

What’s with all the sex links lately? No idea. Anyway, one of the Snook’s female(!) co-workers passed along this link, where you can see the Playboy centrefold from the month you were born. NOTE: This is definitely not work-safe! That said, mine (March ’77) is pretty. The Snook’s (July ’76) is really weird looking. And what’s with the random socks? Now I’m wondering if these are the French edition models (based on the URL). Anyone want to admit to knowing if that’s the case? 🙂

Is there anything Sarah Michelle Geller can’t do? 🙂 (Link courtesy of Ernie.)

Congratulations to Kristen on getting her permanent residency. It sounds like quite the bureaucratic nightmare. (I went through something similar myself last February.) I liked her description of Singapore’s “pension” fund system too. Very interesting. I could use an enforced savings system myself.