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May 11

This may be the last Five Favorite Things because surely we’ll all be dead by next Friday, drowned in our own prolific snot output. Perhaps this is how the zombie apocalypse will finally come. Maybe you should divert some of that retirement money we urged you to spend on Kleenex on machetes and shotguns instead. Don’t say you haven’t been warned. Crazier things have happened. We’ll try to distract you from impending doom with these five amusing things.

  1. Autopilot cars. Google, that bastion of knowledge and information, has transformed Prii (that’s the plural of Prius. Really. Google it. See – Google knows everything) into robot cars. They’ve been test piloting them around public streets and now they’re taking them to Vegas to show how effective they are against driving where there are a lot of distractions. Of course, there are those over-thinkers who are worried that self-driving cars are a sign of Big Brother’s influence, but we say pish. Those people clearly have not thought of the fabulous possibilities. Amylynn could sleep for ten more minutes in the car each morning. Ava’s family could stop worrying that she’s a menace to society when she’s driving her own car and Kelli could

    Those short dinosaurs are in for nothing but trouble down there.

    Facebook to her heart’s content. Genius. We want one.

  2. Stinky dinosaurs. A study was published this week in Current Biology that postulates that the dinosaurs kept Earth 18 degrees hotter than it is now. Wanna know how? By farting. Yes, you read that correctly. Apparently the sauropods were especially gassy with all the plants they ate. We’ve often considered that Earth would have been really lovely back then with all the wild, unbroken wilderness. Now we’re reconsidering. Quite frankly, instead of paradise the whole place sounds like it smelled like a frat house. **shudder**

    Not another irritating person in sight

  3. Town of the Future. They’re building it and we will come. We don’t know who “they” are but we need to make friends right quick. This town they’re building will be a 1 billion dollar scientific ghost town out in New Mexico somewhere. They plan to use it for research on everything from intelligent traffic systems (there isn’t one) to self-flushing toilets (??). Here’s the big selling point for the Sisters: no one will live there. It’s a giant, perfect fifteen square mile town void of morons. Perfect for the blogger who hates everyone else. Doesn’t it sound like heaven? No one to pester you and you don’t even have to flush your own toilet. Bliss.
  4. Haboobs. Our town had a haboob this weekend. That means we had a massive dust storm. It doesn’t mean anything about having boobs, which we do, two each as prescribed by current social convention. There isn’t anything especially funny about dust storms but we defy you not to giggle while watching the local newscasters say “haboob” over and over again, all agitated and self-important like only local newscasters can be. Habooooooob. We don’t care what most of the world thinks, those Middle Easterners must have a sense of humor to come up with that word. Haboooooob. **giggle**
  5. Western Conference Finals. Amylynn has been trying to figure out a way to mention hockey on this blog for weeks and now’s her chance. The Coyotes have moved to the Western Conference finals for the Stanley Cup and it’s a really big deal because never in the entire history of the organization have they made it this far. Also, even better, the NHL thinks they finally have a buyer that will take over the team who will leave them in Phoenix, shushing all the horrific rumors of the team leaving. Amylynn is beside herself with glee over the whole thing.  Her family just wants it to be over. Ava smiles at her like you would a slightly crazy person who might hurt you with their enthusiasm. Kelli ignores her altogether. Amylynn doesn’t care. But we suggest you save yourself and not ask her opinion on save percentages and brilliant goal tending or you’ll hear an endless ode to goalie Mike Smith. And for heaven’s sake don’t mention Shane Doan or she gets all swoony and, really, that’s sorta icky. Go Yotes!

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