Saddest news of the day: Panda accidentally crushes cub in China

I think it's very clever though how they change the subject subtly from a sad mother Panda waking to find her cub gone to what other than Panda porn:

"A zoo handler noticed the cub, which weighed only about three ounces, had fallen away motionless from her mother's nipple, it said. Zoo staff took the cub away while Ya Ya was still asleep and an autopsy showed that its heart, liver and other organs had been crushed.

"The report said that Ya Ya searched around for her cub after waking up, then appeared depressed, laying listlessly in her zoo enclosure.
The report did not say if zoo staff would try to reunite the mother with her other cub.

"Ya Ya was mated with 11-year-old Ling Ling from Wolong in April. The pandas watched a mating video before breeding."

Scientists identify brain's concept control core

"Scientists believe they may have finally identified the part of the brain that deals with the critical issue of matching words to everyday objects.

"Using brain scans of people suffering from Semantic Dementia -- the second most common form of dementia after Alzheimer's disease in people under 65 -- they have found that the front end of the temporal lobe seems to be crucial to conceptual application.

"Previously the part of the brain dealing with concepts was thought to be Wernicke's area, which is further back on the temporal lobe, but scans and experiments showed degradation of the front end seemed to be key.

"One woman accurately drew a duck when a photograph was in front of her, but within a minute of the image being removed she was able to sketch only a four-legged creature with chicken and cat-type features."

So, this is the woman who did this cat-like graffiti:

Okay & I just love this picture...but what exactly is "Qua-qua"? It reminds me of when I was 8 & some adult told me that ducks don't say "Quack" they say "Mack." Who the heck cares? Certainly not this duck, he speaks his own language, thank you very much:

And something to offset the Panda cub story:

In other more personal news, the jabbery ever-weather Nut head on the other side of my cube wall got written up yesterday for talking too loudly. Apparently, this somehow "blows her mind" but my day is still made.

Oh For Heaven's Sake

This is me this morning when I realized after getting mad at Yahoo! & deleting my account yesterday that I'd also just deleted everything in my Flickr account too. Oh but it had to be done. I can still cry a little on the inside though, can't I?

If you're into poop stories... The Husband & I pulled into Nebraska Furniture Mart's 32 acre parking lot yesterday evening when I began to smell something foul coming from the most definite direction of the baby. Well, "began" is an understatement. It hit me like a dump truck with it's putrecense of poo. So we pop out the stroller & I begin to change Baby. It's bad, really bad, so I plop (I think it even made that sound too) the diaper on the ground for a moment while I attempt to keep Baby from sticking his hands in the poo. Husband is watching & gagging & then says, "Look! He's got a ring of poo around his nuts." Keen observation. I am buckled over with laughter none the less while still cleaning Baby. Around us, people are coming & going. Husband hands me more wipes, he spots a place I missed & I hold up Baby, back-side out, for him to wipe (hey, it's not easy changing a baby in a stroller in a parking lot while wedged between 2 cars) & I see a man look over at us holding baby's bare butt mid-air while Husband wipes off the remnants of what he guesses is sweet potatoes & corn:

Me: People are going to think we're totally incompetent parents.
Husband: Watch out! The diaper! (He wrangles foul diaper on the ground before the stroller rolls into it.) Well, maybe you are kind of incompetent.

At that point we decided to cut our social losses & move on...

Secret Confession

This is in no way the secret I referred to the other day that I cannot reveal until September 9th. No, no. This secret is much more personal & one that I am a little disturbed by, so I've decided I must get it off my chest. It's really pretty embarrassing.

I cried a little last night as I sat at home watching Inside Edition (because, darn it, I missed Katie Couric's big debut-and consequently, little Suri's crazy mound o' hair. Seriously, did TomKat get one of those odd "headhuggers" someone was selling here at my work??). Back to IE (because I'm all about dorky abbreviations & acronyms). They were talking about Steve Irwin's grieving wife & the parent who said "what will I tell my kids?" & Kelly Ripa's little boy that was deeply saddened & just couldn't believe that he was gone. So sad. Lesson to all the little mates: stingrays don't speak Aussie. And that feminist Greer needs to go jump off a cliff.

I am also saddened to see that there are no immediately accessible news reports on the crazy Croc Hunter... he's already been trumped by the Mound o' Hair on Yahoo! headlines. Now I actually have to delve into the News link to search. Still nothing. Still looking. The Potomac's "intersex" fish is one of the most-emailed of the day?? What? Oh, wait... Here is what I'm looking for... Ms. Greer & all of her compassionate self:

Outspoken Australian feminist Germaine Greer has labelled "Crocodile Hunter" Steve Irwin embarrassing and said she hoped her compatriot's death brought an end to exploitative wildlife programs.

Greer accused Irwin of provoking the stingray that killed him with a tail barb to the heart Monday, saying such behaviour was typical of the 44-year-old naturalist's documentaries.
"I really found the whole Steve Irwin phenomenon embarassing and I'm not the only person who did, or indeed the only Australian who did," the British-based Greer told Australia's Channel Nine television via satellite Wednesday.
Asked whether she felt out of touch with most Australians given the wave of mourning that has swept her homeland since his death, Greer replied: "I don't care what I'm being called, I hope I'm out of touch with what idiots are thinking."
Greer's remarks follow a column she wrote for Britain's Guardian newspaper in which she said the animal world had finally taken its revenge on Irwin.

This mention of Yahoo! & their somehow inherent need to make me work to find things. In April I signed up for Yahoo! Messenger with Voice. It, however, worked like crap. & I'll tell you something I'm not the only one who things crap works like, well, crap. Stick that to your ear & try to get a connection, Yahoo! So, after being billed automatically for it again in May and June, the Husband tried cancelling it 3 times. 2 months pass & no more charges. You'd think maybe the multiple attempts at cancelling the account had worked, right? Wrong-o, Bobby-o! "Purchase Yahoo! Voice ($2.99)" shows up on my bank statement OUT OF THE BLUE for August 29th. Yahoo! Voice...you suck! This charge, on an account that we no longer use & closing the account has just been on my list of things to do that I haven't gotten around to lately. So, that means I had NO money in the account & a subsequent $35 NSF fee!! Yahoo! Voice is really ticking me off now. I, along with my dear patient mother, spent nearly 2 hours yesterday morning trying to figure out how to access the credit card info Yahoo! apparently still has on file for me, some sort of customer service, anything through the Messenger with Voice area of Yahoo! for account options, any clues in my profile or Yahoo! account, so-called "Premium Services" that I might be signed up for, etc etc. & NOTHING is listed or found that would allow me to either a) cancel the subscription or b) conk-on-the-head anyone at Yahoo! that could aid me in doing so. So screw you Yahoo! I'm officially disputing the charge. Which adds yet another thing to my list of "to do's" since, with a now-negative balance, I cannot close the account like was previously next on my list of great accomplishments. This throws a cog in the wheels of my anger restraint.

Well, now that I've divulged my old bank account woes & my newfound disgust with yet another entity I must depart for the day.