Tuesday, May 29, 2012

The Desert Adventure (Newt Unleashed)

Hello, and welcome to Newt Unleashed.  I have been making my way accross the country, and seeing things through a civilian eye.  I have to admit, it's cool to be a veteran, though.  Here is a video of some Chinese students I met right on the west side of the Nevada border:


Well, I bounced through Las Vegas, and went to the Grand Canyon.  There are pictures in another post.  But I met this cool chick named Christine at the Canyon, and we had a good conversation and I wish I had gotten more footage with her, since she's super cool, and also a fellow traveller.  But I got a little snippet:

Of course all my loyal readers know that the URL is HAZELNEWT.blogspot.com, not hazel THE newt.  Oh well, right?  Hopefully Christine gets to see this sometime, though.  Anyways, shout out to Christine, hope your travels went well.

Well, I camped at the Grand Canyon National Forest for a weekend:

Then, I took Saturday off, and just hung around and drank a few beers and relaxed.

I drove out on Monday I think, and went through Flagstaff.  Which was nice, but I needed to move on, so I randomly picked Tucson, and went there.
Here is my travel buddy, and maybe this is why the asian girls call me Panda.

This is a random video at the Canyon.

In Tucson, I recorded this love song, called She Wants To Dance:

I also have some videos with the people I have met in Tucson, which will be uploaded soon, and I will make a seperate post for them.  You should look forward to that, because that is some of the GREATEST parts of my travels.  Meeting new and awesome people has been an exciting adventure.  I've laughed, I've practically cried, I've learned, I've loved, I've made some lasting friendships, I can already tell.  And all from going out of my way, getting out of my bubble, and going places.  Right now I'm camping out, since it's free, and just finding ways to get money until my next paycheck comes through.  But I don't worry, man, and when you have other people around, you protect them, they protect you... It's great.  Alot of the people I meet are veterans too, and it isn't easy for them to get by sometimes.  Especially the disabled guys... You get disabled, and the VA will pay you, but often it makes it so you can't work, and you rely on the VA check.  Well, it's not enough to live comfortably, so these guys do what they have to, but somewhere, they experience more freedom than you or I ever really thought you could and barely have anything to your name.  Wait til my next post, when I introduce you to some of these people!

Until next time, Godspeed, and go with Peace.

Hazel Newton

Tuesday, May 22, 2012


My travelling took me to Vegas.  It was a big bright crowded city as I expected.  So I moved on.

Grand Canyon pictures.

These are some of the pictures I took at the grand canyon.

Thursday, May 3, 2012

Paleo Diet Biblical

Thursday, May 3, 2012 at 1:19pm
It has come to my attention that this Paleo Diet which I have begun to embrace is not a brand new idea, but in fact ancient... besides the supposed "caveman" sustinence it implies. Remember the story of Daniel, Shadrach, Meahach, and Abednigo (Babylonian names for Hananiah, Meshael, and Azaria; Daniel's Babylonian pseudonym was Belteshazzar)? You can read about it in Daniel 1 - ESVBible.org http://www.esvbible.org/search/Daniel%2B1/ The Babylonian king recruited the best of the best of Hebrew youths to share in his royalty as high-class servants of the king. He would train them physically and mentally for three years, then select the best of them for these positions. Obviously, these four guys get chosen. But how? It all started with Daniel and his buddies choosing to "not defile themselves with the king's food and wine." Which made sense for them, being Hebrews in service of Babylon. But the choice that propelled them to their high stature was not simply supernatural blessing due to obedience to laws of their religion. It's true that the lion's share of their great fortune came as a direct result of their faith in the Lord. But what started it all? Their diet. The eunich in charge of them was on their side, but a bit worried when they requested none of the meat and wine and goodies the king had to offer, but instead asked for veggies and water and things which can be eaten without cooking. The eunich said that it would look bad on him, in a "you just got executed on the spot" kind of way, if they were to be unhealthy due to this diet. Daniel said "test it for 10 days, then re-evaluate." That sounded acceptable, so it was done. In ten days, they were more healthy, bright, strpng, and energetic than any of their peers. Not just because of some miracle, but because their diet gave their bodies no toxins or excess fat or carbs. After the training was complete and this diet was used, they were top shelf in every way imagineable. That is the potential of Paleo Dieting. I can only hope it works the same for me. I think it will help. I can already feel the specific effects of every individual food i ingest and metabolize. It's a bit trickier with diabetes to manage, too. But I have faith that there is something to all this.

Shared with Memoires for Android http://market.android.com/details?id=net.nakvic.dromoris http://sites.google.com/site/drodiary/

The Great Embark

I thought about calling this the Great Escape.  But that seemed clichet.  In reality it feels about like an escape from the city of Socal.  I cannot wait to get awy from this state.  I'm sorry California... no offense, but you people suck dick! 

I guess being from the east coast, I am used to a higher quality of people.  Californians are disconnected from reality.  They say the east coast gets everything last, but i think it's the other way around.  Californians still have not heard of the concept of OTHER PEOPLE.  They are snobby.  They have their heads up their own asses.  They think the world owes them something.  Why i don't know.  Their cost of living is stupid, they overcrowd the coast,  they have leather skin from too much tanning.  They are not as important or cool as they think they are.  Whete I come from, if you do business with someone, they treat you like you are super important.  It's called CUSTOMER SERVICE, anither thing California hasn't gotten the memo on yet.  They treat you like you don't matter.  You are an inconvenience to THEM, if you want assistance.  "The customer is always right" does not apply in CA. 

Anyways, this is not about California.  That was  tangent... or a rant, as some of us call it.  The truth is I am leaving the service of the U.S. government (which, I can assure you from experience and insider knowledge, does not care about you, the citizen, nor does it have in mind your best interest), and I have no kids, wife, no home, no house, responsibilities... All I have is a future to step into, a life to begin.  I will drive through several states, on a several day long road-trip, and visiting friends along the way.  This will be awesome.  You have heard the saying "it is not the destination that matters, but the journey."  I feel like that is what I am going to experience.  I am more excited about the travels that I will be embarking upon than I am about where I will end up.  So wish me luck on this trip.  It is a dream come true to be able to take off on a journey/road trip like this and see the sights and enjoy the freedom to go where I want and do what I want.  So farewell California, and stuff it.  Hello America, here I come.

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Paleo-Diet Day 1

Wednesday, May 2, 2012 at 2:15am CA

I began the Paleo-Diet today as according to http://www.cavemanpower.com/food/caveman_power_diet.html. My first tall glass of water first thing in the morning. I had normal blood-glucose, so I took my 40 units of 24 hour insulin. After that I bought a can of mixed nuts (cashews, almonds, macadamia), and some bananas. Also I cheated a bit and got a small coffee to sip on through the day. But I snacked on about 8-10 servings of nuts and 4 bananas through the day. Also I worked out around 5pm for about an hour, afterwards drinking a protein shake (which may be cheating. But I'm trying to build muscle), and later chowed down on a decent dinner of steak and potatoes and rice and veggies. Honestly, I feel great. I think it helped me have energy and not feel the need to stop to eat. Which is amazing, especially as a diabetic. Because I don't mind not stopping to stuff my face. I went all day without a meal. Just nuts and fruit. I felt more productive, not confined to meal-times. I feel good about it. I found myself pacing and thinking and talking... I was energetic. Thanks, Board of Nutrition, for trying to indict that guy for blogging about his experience with the Paleo-Diet... now I know that it could cure diabetes. Now I'm going to do the same thing he did. Lol @ greedy fascist self-interest-serving government agency. Bite me!

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Thursday, April 19, 2012

Improvise, Adapt, and Overcome

The Marine Corps:  well oiled machine?  Or well-polished turd?
The Corps puts alot of pressure on its Marines to be able to adapt to extringent situations.  But can the Marine Corps itself adapt to the needs of the nation and Marines themselves?  Keep in mind that the Marine Corps has been kept alive in spite of its redundancy to the U.S. military, for good reason.  But so little has changed (and so much has changed) since its conception on July 11, 1798.  Yet the system is so steeped in "tradition" that it is next to heresy to try to change any part of it.  Attempt to do away with a useless appendix of a rule, and you are "disrespecting Marines that died for your freedom."  For example, the date above is the actual date of the chartering of the United States Marine Corps.  However, Marines are told--since their days in boot camp where they memorized and screamed these bits of knowledge--the Marine Corps birthday is 10 November 1775.  This is actually the birthdate of the Continental Marines, which was disbanded some 15 years before the U.S. Marine Corps was born.  Yet to point this out to Marines is met with ignorance, disbelief, disdain, even hostility.
"Tradition" is the reason why so many things about the Marine Corps makes little to no sense.  The computer networks and web services of the Marine Corps have become essential, while becoming slower and less useful.  Why?  Tradition.  PT gear is green underwear.  Why?  Tradition.  Ranks and authority are ineffective, communication broken, and trust between ranks destroyed.  Why?  Tradition.  "Tradition" is the scapegoat that keeps the Marine Corps in the 18th century, and allowing modern laziness to be a staple of Marine leadership.  Since boot camp, Marines are taught that what matters is the outer appearance of the Marine and everything he does.  In other words, you don't want to look bad, no matter what.  Less emphasis is placed on actual performance and proficiency than on appearance.  Now, everyone in every organization has to deal with this issue.  Nobody wants to look bad to outsiders, it brings your work into question.  This is why Marines always look so good, and why they try so hard to appear impeccable.  If they don't, someone might "dig deeper" to find out how they do their job.  They wouldn't want that.  It's extremely important in the Marine Corps for everything to look good, whether it is or not.

Officers in the Marine Corps are a bit of a redundancy, filling a spot which is just as easily mainained by staff and senior staff.  Most Marines despise officers.  Why?  They operate effectively only through blind, thoughtless obedience of their subordinates, but all the real work and operations of the Marine Corps is accomplished through critically thinking privates, PFC's, Lance Corporals, and Corporals.  Supervised or delegated by Sergeants, and responsible to staff NCOs.  Most officers, or a good many have never been enlisted and so are not familiar with the actual process and how the Marine Corps actually works.  So at the worst, officers impede progress and productivity through endless bureaucracy, and at best stay in their office, or on the golf course, out of the way of the working-class enlisted.
I'm not saying that officers should be done away with.  However, why not promote from within?  A enlisted Marine could have the option at the rank of Sergeant to continue to staff enlisted, or to qualify and continue to officer grooming.  One qualifier could be applying and being accepted into college.  Certain other standards would also have to be met.  Then remove the 2nd Leutenant and Major ranks.  All Officers would be tough and adaptive enough to function as a Sergeant, able to lead Marines, and have a good understanding of the Marine enlisted structure.  They would all have plausible leadership experience, and deserve the respect that the officer ranks are assigned.  As it stands, while it is true that officers do complete a long and rigorous training course that rivals that of the enlisted's boot camp, a basic officer's most striking and impressive claim to fame is a college degree, and having exhibitted that they WANT to be there (officer candidates can drop out of OCS anytime after the first four weeks, and officers are commissioned, not contracted, so they can resign their commission at any time).  Their training is indeed worthy, and they have to be tough to meet the demands of it and be selected.  However, the one simple fact that stands between them and a chevron as opposed to a butter-bar, is the first-born mentality, the drive for power or the thirst for leadership.  This can be a great power, or it can be terrible, since just WANTING to lead does not necessarily qualify someone to have the chance to.  But they want it enough to go through OCS and a degree program.  This is why a salty old Gunny who is approaching 20 years will refer to a brand new lieutenant barely over the drinking age as "sir."  I don't understand it myself.  The main difference between a PFC and a 2nd Lieutenant is that a PFC has been promoted.
It seems that Marines are always adapting to conditions, and mostly adapting to ineffective Marine "traditions," but the Marine Corps itself is very very slow and very bad at adapting to anything for anybody's benefit... of least importance being the enlisted marines themselves.

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Bedtime Story

This Is the Story of the Facebook Unpoke

Guadalupe Von Welgenshlecht Garcia was a scientist.  His brilliance knew no bounds.  His father was a Nazi physicist who had defected to the United States after World War II through Project Paperclip, and invented the dart board.  This contribution was sufficient to grant him and his family assylum, and Garcia was illegitimately conceived on the ship to the U.S. by his father and a hispanic waitress in the galley.  Guadalupe never knew his father, and always wondered why his perpetually single mother had given him a German middle name, but his scientific creativity could not be stifled.  It was like a baboon in a water-glass: unable to be contained.

By the time Guadalupe was 18, he had patented 22 products.  At a quarter of a century old, he was hired on by NASA to develop "re-entry velcro." It is a special type of velcro that can withstand the extreme heat of atmospheric re-entry.  They would use this to put designs and logos on the rockets and shuttles of the space mission.  Guadalupe became so smart, that he had to develop an artificial skull to house his ever-increasingly-sized brain, and also develop a procedure for skull-transplant, then perform it on himself, while under local anasthetic.  The very next day, he developed something called "general anesthesia."

One day, at the age of 29, Guadalupe was hard at work, testing the molecular bond of a brand new element called Oatmeal 17.  Suddenly, he realized he had been so busy discovering the innovations and technology of tomorrow, that he had never had sex.  Now THIS was a challenge for the great scientists expansive mind.  He had never considered the implications of this.  He quickly emptied his wall-sized chalkboard of the formula for Oatmeal 17 (committed to memory), as well as the designs for the most advanced microprocessor known to man (which he photographed and sold to Apple for stock options), and a grocery list which he did not remember.  For 36 hours straight, Guadalupe scrawled out formula after formula, breaking the human psyche into  three distinct affections: Male, Female, and something else which nobody ever really figured out what it was.  He developed a complex algorithm for every emotion, and reduced every possible interaction to a variable integer, then copiously integrated a logarithm for countless complex variable chance (bad place to meet, terrible weather, meeting at a wedding, wearing a bad outfit, untied shoes, having a mild stroke and developing a lisp, ketchup stains, deodorant aromas, attraction, being too attracted, being unatracted, cat ladies, horse ladies, etc.) and thusly came up with a complex equation which would theoretically get him laid.

I know you are all dying to know if it worked for him.   Since I don't want to give it away, all I'm going to say is no it didn't.

But after the equation was complete, Guadalupe went home and fell asleep for 24 hours.  He awoke to a knock at his door.  He stumbled over to it, and peered through the apartment peephole.  On the other side was a woman. From what he could tell, she was very attractive.  This woke him up enough to realize that the equation must already be working.
"One moment please," he said through the door as he started flitting about the room in a panic.  His mind was calculating at the speed of a chicken on meth (normally it was twice the speed of light, but Guadalupe had just woken up), and he was naked but for a thong, which is what he wore as underwear for no apparent reason.  As he was throwing on sweat-pants, for a value of x3 presentableness, and the green and blue striped robe for x2 sexiness, a spritz of cologne for +81 oportunity and squeezing a grapefruit behind the ear for x=P12 where x is the perceived appeal and P is pheremones, her fabulously female voice came through the door:
"It's your Landlady's daughter Venicia... I wanted to ask you something.  Can I come in?"
"Oh, yes, I'm just throwing on something presentable.  I was not expecting anyone..."
"Oh, I AM sorry if this is a bad time, I was just about to head out for the day, and I wanted to ask you...  Well, I wanted to talk to you before I left.  See, I just moved in with my mother a week ago, I was living in India, and I was--"
"AH!  India, how fabulous.  Was it wonderful?"
"Oh, well, yes, actually.  It was the best 4 years of my life so far..."  By this point, Guadalupe had prepared as much as he could, in his calculated hastiness, since she spoke slowly, in a sultry, velvety voice.  Then he opened the door, in the middle of her sentance, cutting her off, and her voice trailed off, and her eyes flashed over him.

Now women take much less time to "check out" someone then do men.  When men observe a member of the opposite sex, especially one that dilates the pupils, they tend to spend the time to scan their eyes from bottom to top, then think better of it, going back to the top to start again at THAT point, scan down to bottom, then the legs, in the same fashion, then realize that it would be best to start again and work more systematically.  Women, on the other hand, have adapted a quick approach.  They seem to take in the basic outline, shape and form all at once and somehow notice every out-of-place thread and every dimple and color and the entire body language style, and believe that by the data collected in this invisible once-over, that they can determine a man's entire upbringing, favorite sports team, penis size, wallet size and salary, whether he has ever ridden a horse, greatest fears, cat/dog person status, and how many women he has dated and/or slept with.  In short, women are absolutely out of their minds.
But here was Guadalupe Von Welgenschlecht Garcia, the scientific virtuoso, virgin, and sexual imbacile.  Staring into the hallway at the most beautiful girl he had ever met not wearing a lab coat.  He was speechless, and the only thing in his mind was the unconscious vision of corollaries exponentially deleting themselves from his memory banks.  And he instantly regretted putting on clothes, for there, in front of him, was the most shapely and intensely radiently ravishingly lyrically gorgeous female of the human species that he had ever noticed... And all the clothes that she had appeared to be wearing through the peephole (and he was sure she was wearing them then) were on the floor to her right.  While he had been dressing as fast as possible, she had been undressing even faster, and there was this angelic beauty, fully exposed, naked at Guadalupe's door.


Tuesday, April 10, 2012

The Few, the Chosen, the Jokes.

Tonight, I will thrill and delight my readers with a series of jokes and such to entertain.  Hope you all enjoy.

I'M A Rabbit!

The Los Angeles Police Department (LAPD), The FBI, and the CIA are all trying to prove that they are the best at apprehending criminals. The President decides to give them a test. He releases a rabbit into a forest and each of them has to catch it. The CIA goes in. They place animal informants throughout the forest. They question all plant and mineral witnesses. After three months of extensive investigations they conclude that rabbits do not exist. The FBI goes in. After two weeks with no leads they burn the forest, killing everything in it, including the rabbit, and they make no apologies. The rabbit had it coming. The LAPD goes in. They come out two hours later with a badly beaten bear. The bear is yelling: "Okay! Okay! I'm a rabbit! I'm a rabbit!"


One day, President Bush visited an elementary school. All the kids were so excited to get to meet the President. He began to talk to them and asked them to define the word "tragedy." "Well," one girl replied, "If my mommy ran over my dog, Rover, that would be a tragedy!" The President smiled at the little girl and said, "No, sweetie. That would be an accident! Can anyone give it a try?" A little boy sitting across the room raised his hand and said, "I know! I know! If our bus driver ran off of a cliff and killed everyone!" The President shook his head and said, "No son. That would be a great loss! Doesn't anyone know of a good example of a tragedy?" A small girl raised her hand and said, "Well, Mr. President, if you and Laura were in Air Force One and it was hit by a missile and blown to smithereens, most people would think that that was a tragedy!" "Very good," he said. "And what was your reason for that answer?" "Well," she said, "It would not be an accident and it sure would not be a great loss!"

What You Say is What They Understand

What a woman says: "This place is a mess. C'mon, you and I need to clean up. Your stuff is lying all over the floor, and you'll have no clothes to wear, if we don't do laundry right now!" What a man hears: "... C'mon ... you and I ... all over the floor ... no clothes ... right now!"

Fishing Business

One day a fisherman was lying on a beautiful beach, with his fishing pole propped up in the sand and his solitary line cast out into the sparkling blue surf. He was enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun and the prospect of catching a fish. About that time, a businessman came walking down the beach, trying to relieve some of the stress of his workday. He noticed the fisherman sitting on the beach and decided to find out why this fisherman was fishing instead of working harder to make a living for himself and his family. "You aren't going to catch many fish that way," said the businessman to the fisherman, "you should be working rather than lying on the beach!" The fisherman looked up at the businessman, smiled and replied, "And what will my reward be?" "Well, you can get bigger nets and catch more fish!" was the businessman's answer. "And then what will my reward be?" asked the fisherman, still smiling. The businessman replied, "You will make money and you'll be able to buy a boat, which will then result in larger catches of fish!" "And then what will my reward be?" asked the fisherman again. The businessman was beginning to get a little irritated with the fisherman's questions. "You can buy a bigger boat, and hire some people to work for you!" he said. "And then what will my reward be?" repeated the fisherman. The businessman was getting angry. "Don't you understand? You can build up a fleet of fishing boats, sail all over the world, and let all your employees catch fish for you!" Once again the fisherman asked, "And then what will my reward be?" The businessman was red with rage and shouted at the fisherman, "Don't you understand that you can become so rich that you will never have to work for your living again! You can spend all the rest of your days sitting on this beach, looking at the sunset. You won't have a care in the world!" The fisherman, still smiling, looked up and said, "And what do you think I'm doing right now?


An avid duck hunter was in the market for a new bird dog. His search ended when he found a dog that could actually walk on water to retrieve a duck. Shocked by his find, he was sure none of his friends would ever believe him.He decided to try to break the news to a friend of his, the eternal pessimist who refused to be impressed with anything. This, surely, would impress him. He invited him to hunt with him and his new dog. As they waited by the shore, a flock of ducks flew by. They fired, and a duck fell. The dog responded and jumped into the water. The dog, however, did not sink but instead walked across the water to retrieve the bird, never getting more than his paws wet. This continued all day long; each time a duck fell, the dog walked across the surface of the water to retrieve it. The pessimist watched carefully, saw everything, but did not say a single word. On the drive home the hunter asked his friend, "Did you notice anything unusual about my new dog?" "I sure did", responded the pessimist. "He can't swim."

Cheap Parking Space

A woman walks into a bank in New York City and asks for the loan officer. She says she is going to Europe on business for two weeks and needs to borrow $5000.
The bank officer says the bank will need some kind of security for such a loan, so the woman hands over the keys to a new Rolls Royce, parked on the street, in front of the bank.
Everything checks out, and the bank agrees to accept the car as collateral for the loan.
An employee drives the Rolls into the bank's underground garage and parks it there.
Two weeks later, the woman returns, repays the $5000. and the interest which is $15.41.
The loan officer says, "We are very happy to have had your business, and this transaction has worked out very nicely, but we are a little puzzled. While you were away, we checked you out and found that you are a multimillionaire. What puzzles us , is why would you bother to borrow $5000? "
The woman replied, "Where else in New York, can I park my car for 2 weeks for $15? "

Help the President

A man on his way home from work came to a dead halt in traffic and thought to himself, "Wow, this traffic seems worse than usual. Nothing's even moving." He notices a police officer walking back and forth between the lines of cars so he rolls down his window and asks, "Excuse me, Officer, what's the hold up?" The Officer replies, "The President just found out another report has been delivered to Congress and he's all depressed. He stopped his motorcade in the middle of the Beltway and he's threatening to douse himself in gasoline and set himself on fire. He says his family hates him and he doesn't have the $33.5 million he owes his lawyers. I'm wjalking around taking up a collection for him ". "Oh really? How much have you collected so far? " "I've got a lot of folks still siphoning; but right now I have about three hundred gallons. "

You Know It

A lady was walking down the street to work and she saw a parrot on a perch in front of a pet store. The parrot said to her, "Hey lady, you are really ugly. " Well, the lady is furious! She stormed past the store to her work. On the way home she saw the same parrot and it said to her, "Hey lady, you are really ugly. "
She was incredibly ticked now. The next day the same parrot again said to her, "Hey lady, you are really ugly. "
The lady was so ticked that she went into the store and said that she would sue the store and kill the bird. The store manager replied, "That's not good," and promised he wouldn't say it again.
When the lady walked past the store that day after work the parrot called to her, "Hey lady. "
She paused and said, "Yes? "
The bird said, "You know. "

Find more jokes at http://www.lotsofjokes.com/

Monday, April 9, 2012

The Lunar Landing

Was the Moon Landing a complete hoax????

LMAO.  Nah, this is just a mad funny video of the lunar landing.

Saturday, April 7, 2012


Some breaking news stories in the amphibian world:

Here's a story from AmphibiaWeb about the blue-tongued skink and cane toads.

  • April 2, 2012: Invasive cane toads (Bufo marinus) in northwestern Australia have proven lethal to many native animals, which eat the toxic amphibian and are not adapted to its secretions. One such affected species is the omnivorous reptile Tiliqua scincoides, the bluetongue skink. A University of Sydney study, however, indicates that another invasive species, a plant native to Madagascar named mother-of-millions (genus Bryophyllum), may have helped some skink populations to develop resistance to the cane toad’s deadly toxins. The plant produces bufadienolide toxins similar to that of the cane toad (a result of convergent evolution), and both species are readily ingested by bluetongue skinks. Skinks from regions with introduced mother-of-million showed a higher resistance to bufadienolides than skinks from regions without the plant. Such preadaptation may have a positive impact on the persistence of bluetongue skinks, and other omnivorous Australian species in the face of the introduced cane toads. (John Cavagnaro)

What does this tell us about amphibians and the natural world?

Many people would believe that this is proof for some evolutionary principle.  That would make perfect sense if the genes of all creatures on earth were not synthesized by reptilians on Mars.
Nah, just kidding, I made that up.  It's probably true, though.  Anyways, these skinks are unconsciously adapting to a new food source by eating something with a similar poison.  That's how people become winos.

Here are two more stories about the rising number of identified amphibious species, and the falling number of total amphibious species:

  • March 26, 2012: How many species of Amphibians ARE there? With nearly 7,000 species described, one might think we are reaching a decisive answer. However, in many parts of the world, we are just coming to understand that herpetologists have overlooked cryptic species. Funk and colleagues report finding that species richness in Ecuador, which may have more species of amphibians per unit area than any other country on earth, has been severely underestimated. For example, two currently recognized species ofEngystomops are shown to be from five to seven species, and two species of Hypsiboas are six to nine. Clearly, amphibian taxonomists still have much work ahead of them. (DW)
  • March 19, 2012: Although most new species of amphibians are being discovered in remote corners of the tropics, sometimes there are surprises: a new frog species has been reported in New York City (and surrounding counties). The as-yet-unnamed species of leopard frog resembles the southern leopard frog, Rana sphenocephala, but is clearly distinct from other local leopard frog species (R. sphenocephalaR. pipiensR. palustris) both genetically and by its call, and has a restricted range. This new discovery highlights the importance of urban areas as well as pristine habitat in conservation of biodiversity. See both the paper by Newman et al. (2012)in Molecular Phylogenetics and Evolution, and the NYTimes and NSF perspectives.

Why are Black Widows... Widows?  Here is an article about animal cannibalism.  From the Cane Toad (mentioned above) to the Black Widow, and more.

I won't copy it here, due to length, but I recommend that you visit the NYT site in the link above and look at more of their stories.  You can find the amphibian section here.

Monday, April 2, 2012


Hello fellow.
Hazel here, being newty as per usual.  Cause I'm the HNIC, Head Newt In Charge.
I am here to talk to you today about anti-depressants.  In specifics, the ones that I'm taking.  Have you ever felt like you couldn't shake a sense of hopelessness and despair?  That was me over the past couple years.  It got pretty bad.  So now I am on something called "Welbutrin" and it seems to be working pretty well.  It is not habit forming, and it doesn't have withdrawals, it is non-narcotic, and all it does is increase the natural internal chemical rewards in your brain.  This gives it an anti-addiction effect too, because whatever chemicals my brain has been conditioned to be rewarded with have less of the same effect.  Like the brain receptors are blocked from those chemicals, and conditioned to accept internal rewards more, which happens on a more constant basis while taking the medicine.  Basically, I can get pleasure from doing things I enjoy more than from random external chemicals.  Pretty cool, because I don't feel constantly depressed any more.  Therefore I enjoy things like writing again.
Thanks to my friend Fahmida for encouraging me to try something to help me and improve the quality of my life, because I owe it to myself to feel good on a regular basis if I possibly can.  I have better control of my moods now, too, so I can freak out and then recover, which is fun.  But I can keep myself from freaking out if I want to.  That's important.
Anyways, I don't encourage any type of drug use if it can be avoided, but if you are a person who is having emotional problems that don't feel right, and maybe you can't control your feelings, and you don't feel like yourself... look into something that might help you feel BETTER, if you can.  Don't take something that makes you have less feelings, but maybe there is something out there that can help you cope with your feelings better and get a better quality of yourself to live with.
All the best.

What I'm Reading

Right now I'm getting into Bill O'Reilly's book Who's Looking Out for You?

Great book so far, most excellent.  O'Reilly is insightful and down-to-earth.  Keep company with good people who are worth your time, be extremely loyal, and you will have a good chance in life, and enjoy loyalty from those friends.  You will enjoy a long life of knowing who you can count on to look out for you, and who you are going to look out for besides yourself.  As successful people, we need that.

A quote I just read in the book:

"Associate yourself with men of quality if you esteem your own reputation, For 'tis better to be alone than in bad company."

--George Washington

Saturday, March 31, 2012

Paper Pope Hats

Since the Pope wears a hat that looks like the paper hats the people at Dick's Last Resort made for us, they should write witty, jack-assery things on the Pope's hat, like they do at Dick's.  For example, mine said "I miss prison sex."  My lady friend had one that said "So easy a caveman could do me."  It's hilarious.  The Pope could have a new one every day, so his subjects, or mind slaves, or minions, or whatever the F they're called, could have a good laugh throughout the day.  Lord knows their lives are a joke.  What, you think they really think about God, and commune with him?  HA!  Not dressed like that, I would say.  If I were God, I would think you people have some serious issues.
The Pope's hat could say stuff like, "For the record, I don't molest children anymore."  or "I have had too much of Christ's blood."  Or, "Virgin mother, huh?  Ya we'll go with that."  or "Jesus... I am your Father!"  "I farted a few times, and the smell is collecting under this robe-dress."  "This is my creepy face."  "I've fallen and I can't get up."

I could just go on and on.  If you can think of some good jokes to put on the Pope's silly tall hat, write them in a comment.

Thursday, March 29, 2012

X-Files Vs. Men in Black

Bob Dylan Update

I found out that I had downloaded my favorite song before it disappeared off YouTube.  Here it is:  Bob Dylan... Don't Think Twice It's Alright (Polished version).

Why Does My Toilet...

Why, oh why does my toilet
Sit there, crouch there on the tile floor, mocking me?

Why does my toilet
Make that sucking sound, like a jet engine trying to suck me in, encouraging me to stand before flushing, as if it deserves a standing ovation for accepting my deposit?

Why, can someone tell me why does my toilet
Let all these little bacteria guys hang out, lurk in the shadows beneath the rim, toilet loiterers flipping bacterium coins, smoking glowing cigarettes beneath dark bacterium hats, or chewing on toothpicks, little bacterium hoodlums, since we all know that bacteria have an oral fixation?

Why does my toilet
Spew water two feet into the air and all over the lip and wall and floor sometimes when I flush it?

Why does this toilet of mine
Live a solitary life in my bathroom, only receiving occasional visits from people who want to dump waste into it?

Why does my toilet
Not walk out on me?

Why does my toilet
Not complain?

Why does my toilet
Conspire against me?

And the most disturbing question...
What is my toilet doing
...When I am not around?

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Bob Dylan

Just a thought:
What is it that drives so many people mad about "the second half" of Bob Dylan's career?  I guess I get it, he went from acoustic folk-ish music to playing electric instruments with a band, and wearing a tie... sold out, took the money and ran.  Something like that?  I don't like the later music as much either.  Some of it appeals to me, but it's very different, and I preferred the "old" Dylan sound.  BUT, I see so many people absolutely hate on him and reject it all because he changed.
My question to them is, didn't they understand "The Times They Are A-Changin'"?  There was alot of truth in that song, and it is exactly what happened.  Times changed, and Bobby went with it.  He didn't want to be left behind.  Those years were times for people to experiment with new things, do things nobody had done before.  I guess he took his own advice.
I don't think it was that bad.  What can I say?  Haters gotta hate.

Saturday, March 24, 2012

Looking for the real myself

So many times I set out some isolated night to find myself, something to make me happy, or feel like I am something special.  But I'm not a master.  I can't just find those things.  I don't end up in those situations, I do not posess the right magnetism.  I can't pick up any female I want, and never will.  I don't have the right personality.  I won't be the guy who can go to a social event and come home with a brand new $800,000,000 deal.  I always look good, but I don't want to be messed with.  I suited up once recently to go out and drink, and I was going to go home with a girlI know, but I ended up starting a brawl with a guy who was harassing a female, and i ended it by spartan kicking him in the chest and getting arrested by the cops.  They just took me home though.

I'm not made for this social stuff.  I want a livelihood.  I want a career or a lifestyle that I can fall in love with.  It's not marriage and family that I crave.  It's not casual sex, or corporate rat race politics with money flowing like wine, seducing women of addictive habits with my cash.  It's not warfare, being a hero of battle, showing off scars and going off on how much harder I had it than the next guy because I got blown up more.  It's not a simple job of trading the ticking hours of my life for a measly pittance, so that I can come home an veg out as I eek my way turough life.  It's not poverty, wealth, or the bastardized middle class that calls me.  It's not service to my country or servitude to one of its agencies.  I barely understand why I would want to serve the population of these undeserving people, to make their society better.  I don't want fame, but I want the world to listen to what I have to say.  I want to piss off the authorities, and throw the undeniable damning truth in their faces.  Being responsible for the start of any kind of revolution would give me awesome pleasure.

I don't care if I'm martyred.  I don't care if I am placed under arrest.  "But Hazel, what about marriage, family?  What about having money?  Don't you need to score with all the hotties you possibly can, so that you can prove to the world what a big-dick badass you are?  Isn't that the most important thing in life, to prove something to other people?" ...you may ask.  But what's the point?  I'm already totally awesome, and I know this.  If they don't notice, it's to be expected from haters and those who are inferior to awesomeness.  What's the use?  All I want to care about is my purpose.

I observe the ladies at the bar.  The hottest ones, for example, who do they go home with?  Who are their boyfriends?  Dudes in skinny jeans and weird shoes that don't know how to shave or get a haircut, wearing a stupid looking coat, looking scrawny and pathetic, while I work out and could beat his ass like a puppy, i'm clean cut wearing a suit, and smart as hell.  And I have to pretend I'm somebody less than myself to pick up girls?  I'm pretty much over it.  I'm pretty much already superior to them, and therefore don't need to get the girl to win.  Getting the girl is really just kind of a drag, because then eventually I will have to ditch her for cramping my style.  I don't think they deserve me.  I don't lie about myself any more.  I have passions way bigger than some dame, and she can't compete, she's not enough of a mystery.  So she thinks I'm weird, because my interests matter.  So she bangs some guy whose biggest interest is who won the game last night.  Even though I am better than him in bed?  But she'll never know.  He probably finishes before her, rolls over, turns on ESPN and falls asleep or kicks her out.  If it was me, I would just keep going for the next 12 hours.  There is no female out there for me.

Maybe it's because I have bigger and better things to do.  I want to see something incredible.  I want to solve mysteries, and have adventures.  I want a life of danger and intrigue.  And isn't that what we all want?  I'm just too intelligent.  Girls are not a mystery.  They try to think they are that incredible, but they are just not.

I watched "This Means War" tonight.  I don't mind ruining it for you because the ending sucked.  The guy who deserved her got blown off, and the fake-ass dick was who she chose.  Because the real guy didn't actually have sex with her.  He was too much of a gentleman and had too much honor to break his word.  Yet they went back to being best friends, knowing that one of them had no integrity.  Women will ALWAYS pick the guy that gets them into bed first.  No matter what they say, they don't want a nice guy, good guy, respectful guy that takes his time and is willing to wait.  They want a guy who can talk or charm them out of their pants as quickly as possible.  Mystery solved.  And what do u know... she chose the one that banged her, the fake one, not the one who treated her with respect and deserved her.  But it's ALL OK, because his baby mama took him back.  Which is great, because she was such a great choice before and pretty much screwed him over the whole time.  So it worked out.  The good guy got screwed, and once again all is right with the universe.  In reality,  Reese Witherspoon would have chosen the lying, pretty boy, poser, fake-ass player, who it turned out had had sex with the nice guy's ex as well as any other girl he wanted to, and as for the baby-mama, instead of taking him back when she found out the truth about him, she would have gotten a restraining order and taken full custody of their son.  That is the real ending.  There is no longer any reason to give a damn about females.  They are not worth any of my time or effort.  May God grant me my dreams instead.

Friday, March 23, 2012

Romance Vs. Purpose

It seems that everyone lives in one of several extremes, when it comes to romance and relationships.  I call this the "How I Met Your Mother Condition," or HIMYOMO Pbenomenon, named after the man who first discovered and documented it, Professor Johann Himyomo, Cambridge, 1967.  Go ahead.  Google it.  I'll wait.

Dude, I totally just made it up, and himyomo is an acronym.  If you Googled it, you are either very gullible, or have attention deficit issues, and should seek proffessional help.
Anyways, anyone who has seen the hit Tv show "How I Met Your Mother" knows what I'm talking about.  Ted Mosby is the hero.  He is a hopeless romantic, who is utterly obsessed with the idea of falling in love and marrying a girl and having a family and living happily ever after.  If you watch enough of these attempts at dating the perfect woman, you will start to feel like he would make a great wife for some lucky girl.  He does things like fall in love on his first date, or totally loose his identity to fit into a woman's life.  He is a great guy, of course, and does alot of dating.  But because of his high standards and expectations, he would often get in over his head, and be let down.  This just comes with the territory.  As soon as he went steady with a female, he would be already talking about marriage and love.

On the other end of the spectrum, there is Barney Stinson, an energetic, suit-wearing, pickup-artist, ladies-man daredevil.  Barney is a functioning sexaholic, who's idea of a long relationship is waking up next to the girl he picked up the night before.  Singleness is his lifeblood.  But he prides himself on being "awesome."  Any challenge (especially if it involves picking up women with "daddy issues") he accepts with vigor.  His apartment is scientifically designed to discourage women from sticking around.  For example, no food in the fridge, and an entire wall of categorized pornography films.  Barney loved strip clubs and "legendary" adventures.  The mere thought of a relationship is like prison bars to him, and he has no hope of being happy settling down with a woman in any sense of the term.

Of course There's the third extreme.  Lilly and Marshall are a couple that dated since college, they were each others' "first," and they ended up getting married.  It is a great relationship they have.  They have pet names, and love calling each other by them.  They are all over each other, and they support each other unconditionally.  However, there is a problem.  Marshall has dreams of becoming a great activist, working as a lawyer for an environmental company.  He wants to help save the world.  It's his dream.  When he married Lilly, a preschool teacher, he inherits her terrible credit.  She doesn't tell him that she is in debt up to her eyeballs because she has a shopping addiction, and uses credit.  Well, due to her terrible money habits, Marshall finds himself pushed into a higher paying job with a huge firm that is responsible for the things that Marshall himself dreams of ending.  So, because of his commitment to the love of his life, he has to give up his dreams, at least for a while.  And working for those big corporations doesn't look good on him when he wants to work for the other guys, either.

So what am I getting at?  It seems that commitment to romance, while being a steady source of sex, affection, acceptance, and companionship (in a rare good relationship which one in maybe 200,000 people experience), it is often called "settling down" because "settling" is what you end up doing.  One has to accept less than their dreams because of their attachment to another person and the other person's dreams.  The relationship is the star their life seems to orbit.  It is both their identity.  It is their lifeblood.  If it fails or goes away, they are left with an empty life, and nothing to show for it (other than possibly kids, the only good reason to be married).  More importantly they compromise their dreams.

In the HIMYOMO complex, the fourth option is Robin.  She is like Ted, in that she has a romantic side, and is open to having a relationship, and one day being married.  She is like Barney because she does not like commitment, especially not early on in a relationship.  She likes to take her time, and remain free.  Her career is her primary goal.  She pursues it in spite of all else.  Oh, she will date men, and try to see where it goes.  She dated Ted, and they had something special.  But he wanted to settle down, have a family, and move in behind a white picket fence... tomorrow.  She dated Barney, and the two of them was working out well at first, they avoided fights, and didn't overwhelm each other with the thought of committment.  But soon, they lulled into a rut, and stopped caring for themselves.  They would fight ALL the time, Barney got fat, Robin looked horrible, and they were miserable together, because the relationship required no challenge, it had no future.  So they broke up and went back to being awesome.

Let me put this in another context, one that is more ultimately crucial.  I often ponder the life of Jesus Christ.  It has come to my attention that Jesus' closest disciple was a woman named Mary.  Who she was exactly, is not clear.  Some say she was the former prostitute Mary of Magdala, or Magdalene.  One passage says that he cast like seven demons out of her.  I don't know exactly, but I do know from various sources, that she listened closely to his words, and understood them.  Also, she was the first one, in ALL the gospels of the New Testament (which each tell a different version of the story, and contradict each other on most points), to see Jesus after his resurrection, or at least learn that he was alive.  Because she was the only one with the courage to return to his tomb.  So of course she was "the disciple that Jesus loved."  Who wouldn't love the only one that really understands you and truly believes you?  In some texts, she was blessed with revelations and dreams herself, that she would ask him to help her understand.  Some of these texts say that he kissed her.  The Da Vinci Code says they were married and had kids.  I won't spend much time on this, because it is a work of fiction, and though it is a good one, and definitely raises questions and requires consideration, the fact remains that I don't personally feel a resonant sense of truth in it.  It's true that there are some obscured issues in the Bible, and that there is more than meets the eye to these relationships between Jesus and his followers.  But I feel that Jesus lived in a constant state of deja vu, and knew that his path led to a hard, painful end, but had such a greater purpose, that nothing must stand in his way.  Also, I think that conventional relationships didn't exist in his lifestyle.  I also think that he fell in love with Mary, and her with him.  Do I think they had sex or were married?  Quite possibly, but because of the nature of Jesus, and his culture, I will not venture a guess about that.  I don't see that it matters.  It was brought up to me by a friend, that if the Bible says that Jesus experienced all the feelings that is in the scope of a human to feel, who is to say he did not experience what it felt like to be a father, or to be married, or at least to be in love.. and even to give it up or loose it?  Maybe this would explain more about the blood he sweated in that vineyard before his arrest?  Well, either way, it appears he chose his purpose, his dream of fulfilling it... over his passion for a woman.

We see similar behavior with many sages, I think.  Did Buddha take a wife?  I don't think so, since he dedicated his life to a "higher" purpose.  His desire was to be free from desire.  It seems he accomplished it well, and lived a life of service and teaching.  Here is a great link to a site that speaks about the Buddhist view of marriage and other related topics.  The thing I would like my readers to take away from this is very serious.  Do not be drawn in to unions that are beneath you, and do not let lower, temporary desires pull you away from your higher calling.  I cannot tell you if it is right for you to be married, or when it is, nor can I tell you it is wrong to be married or have sex.  I have made it clear that I feel it is in the best interests of fathers, mothers, and children for the two parents to be married, since this is a socially binding and protected union.  It gives a structure and good foundation to raise a child.  Remember the things you are passionate about and want to do in life, and don't let go of your dreams.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Your Guru Guide to Getting Out of the Marine Corps

USMC separation made easy

Your Corps Vs. My Core

My dearest readers, oh, beloved readers of mine... OOH, my dear bretheran.  Let me approach you for a moment in solemn sincerity, not as a writer, nor a blogger.  Nay, I am appealing to you today not as a brother or equal, or even a
fellow human being... but as something more ominous and narcisistic.  Consider me the echo of a voice from beyond the grave, as it were, a wailing and gnashing of teeth; today I am your Ghost of Christmas Future, and you are my Scrooge... for today, oh my little children, I speak to you not as a man, but as a U.S. Marine.

YES!  I know how it sounds.  I can imagine your horrified gasps of horror, confusion, shock, horror, and even disgust.  But this revelation must come my beloved worshipers.  Some of you are youngsters or, even fairly oldsters, lacking direction and ambition in life.  Maybe your father is pressuring you to "do something with your life" whatever that means, and he wants you to follow in his footsteps by selling yourself into indentured servitude to the U.S. Department of Defense for the next 20-40 years of your life.
Maybe your friends all moved on in life, or joined the military.  They have left home to serve, fight, and die for this great nation... in boot camp.  You are bored and lonely hanging out in your parent's basement.  You realize you were a follower of the crowd with no real self-awareness or individual identity... and you want for that to continue.  You long for that same pride of belonging that you can only earn by letting other people make your decisions and determine your personality for you.  Or maybe your friends all got good jobs in the Army and Air force, and you want to show them up one and be seen as the tough guy, so you will join the Marine Corps.  You will allow your body to be abused and destroyed and aged before it's time.  You will apply for the 6th crappiest job on earth, get screwed, and end up with one of two jobs so crappy they didn't make the list.  Your idea of "professional behavior will be yelling random sounds and such things as "kill babies" at you boss when he talks to you; running in your underwear with other men in matching underwear, in the dead of night while loudly chanting strange obscenities.

Mayhaps, oh my dear little brothers and sisters, you have a girlfriend.  Whether you have dated for 4 months or 4 years, her new name will be Suzie Rottencrotch, and you will tremble in excitement as you tell her you will be enlisting.  She will be so excited for you.  She loves a man in uniform, she says.  If only you knew just how much.  However she will express certain concerns.  But you will tell each other you are in love and it will be ok.  Then you will go to boot camp and write her every day.  You will recieve two letters from her, then not again for several weeks.  Then you will get a letter from her.  Your name will be spelled wrong, and she will melodramatically confess to you that she was soooo worried about you that she had to talk to your recruiter about what was going on, and he was there to comfort her.  Long story short, for the past few weeks, instead of writing you, she has been banging your recruiter.  And the other marines that work in the recruiting office.  At the same time.  And the Army staff sergeant next door when they were out.  Now she is so overcome with guilt that she must say goodbye.
"Thank you for your continued interest.
Yours faithfully, Suzie R."
It's ok.  It could be worse.  Sometimes Suzie never even tells you she did anything like that while you were gone.

Fear not, young padewog.  Eventually you will marry.  She will be the most beautiful bride imagineable, hourglass figure, lips like flowerpetals... 2 years later, this amazing woman will have 3 kids, with another on the way (a feat in itself considering that none of the children are twins... they won't even be all the same color!  What an amazing woman you will have married), and she will weigh in at a whopping 480 lbs, unable to leave the bedroom without the assistance of a crane.  This and her supernatural abilities to suck your bank accounts dry no matter what will help her live up perfectly to her new title of "military dependant."

Just imagine all the things you will do that you never thought you would.  Like become an alcoholic.  Get chased by ladyboys in a third world country, or learn that prostitutes in the philippines cost less than $50 (usd) and decide to get three consecutively or at once.  Maybe you will kill a family's livestock or pet goat in Afghanistan, or learn where the U.S. Governments true priorities lie, or loose your sight or legs.  There are SOOO many possibilities in the Marine Corps.  It will take all your time to explore them.  Like all night "field days," exploring all the places trace amounts of dust can hide in your room.  Maybe you can work your way up to Staff Non Commissioned Officer, at which point you will have the esteemed role of being on call at all times to do the bidding of simple-minded officers; working late, answering endless requests and filling out endless paperwork, and taking responsibiloty for every mistake or hiccup that anyone below you has made ever in history.   Essentially by the time you have risen to the proud rank of Staff Sergeant, you have attained the covetted billet of "office para-bitch"  or "assistant to the main office-bitch in charge of paperclips."

People will ask you if you will re-enlist, and you will say you don't know yet.  You will be thinking about how much you hate your life.  They will chuckle and wide-eyed, they will say, "If you're going to do four years, you might as well re-enlist, just to see if you really like it or not.   And if you do 8 years, you might as well do twenty, and why stop there.  Just another twenty years and you have full retirement benefits."   You will nod and squint thoughtfully, thinking about what to eat for lunch and how to avoid your sergeant for the rest of the morning.  The words that person spoke will seem logical to you, even though the real question is:  why stay in longer than you must?!

To summarize, dear esteemed reader... there comes a time in a man's life when he must look to some group or organization to give him a solid hand of guidance.  If that time comes for you, and it must be four letters, before you consider USMC, you should consider YMCA.

Monday, March 19, 2012

A UFO Lands in Your Backyard...

How can you tell a good (benevolent) extra-terrestrial (ET) from a bad (malevolent) ET?  Imagine this, if you will.  A UFO lands in your backyard.  A small grey alien with big eyes steps out and says (or telepathically communicates to your mind): "Take me to your leader."  What do you do?  DON'T TRUST HIM.

Sunday, March 18, 2012

Gorgeous Asian Women




Philippines:  SARAH GERONIMO

Cambodia:  SUNISA KIM
but she is not full Cambodian so also:

China:  THIS GIRL!!


Taiwan:  ICHIGO



Asian chicks... gotta love 'em.