Neanderpundit

Whale Shit: the source.

Popular expression, that. “Lower than Whale Shit.”

Last week I went to the Georgia Aquarium to see whether there was, in fact, anything lower than Whale Shit. And since they have not only several beluga whales, but four whale sharks (OK, whale sharks are technically sharks – fish – not whales, but they’re big…and they shit), I figured it was the perfect venue for my research.

Ah, the beluga whale. Alas, not the source of beluga caviar. Probably a good thing, because I’d be in that tank in a New York minute with my boning knife, slicing my way in towards those honkin’ humongous ovaries.

The beluga whale looks like nothing so much as a hyperinflated Sex Toy. Possibly something that could tickle the fancy (is that what they’re calling it these days?) of the 50 Foot Woman. And it shits like a goose.

When a whale lays cable, it’s like the cable that holds up suspension bridges. Thick. Meaty. And it sinks like a rock.

They don’t keep other aquatic critters in the whale tank. It makes for a lonely cetacean existence, sure…but at least you don’t have the horrifying spectacle of frantic fish darting hither and yon, trying to escape the Deadly Rain o’ Dookie from above. And believe me, those fish are grateful.

For, thanks to the stupendous sphinctural muscles of the beluga, the density of those Dookie-Chunks approaches that of a white-dwarf star. When it hits the bottom of the tank, it immediately starts working its way to the center of the Earth, crushing its way through solid rock.  (At least it helps keep the tank clean.)

So: There is nothing lower than Whale-Shit.

[Unless it’s the collective mood of Wall Street investors.]

Sarah Palin has to wear glasses so the natural beauty of her eyes doesn’t turn men to stone.

Not the whole man, mind you. Just the wiener.

Sara Palin is HOT!

I’m just sayin.