Shocking, I know.

But holy shit! Here are the dipshits who tried (and utterly failed) to pull off the hoax. I'm not exaggerating when I say that this might be the most amazing YouTube I've ever seen.

"This is an odd, odd smell. Unbelievable."

Via io9. And just FYI, I'm still holding out hope for the chupacabra.

PALO ALTO, Calif.--Three "Bigfoot" seekers, including a Redwood City man... claimed they have proof that they have found the body of the elusive creature in the wilds of Georgia.

And on Friday, at a news conference in Palo Alto, they say they will present DNA evidence to prove the carcass of "Rickmat" is that of a bigfoot.

Matthew Whitton and Rick Dyer, Georgia residents who lead Bigfoot-tracking expeditions, say they found the body of what appears to be a Bigfoot in the woods of northern Georgia and will join local Bigfoot researcher Tom Biscardi at the news conference, according to Robert Barrows, who is publicizing the event....

"I think you'll find that this is the real deal," Barrows said of the alleged discovery.

First it's those goddamn chupacabras, and now it's the bigfeet. That's it. I'm buying a fucking shotgun.

The complete story is here. Thanks to RT for the heads up.

August 18-22, the Portland Water Bureau and the Oregon Trail Chapter of the American Red Cross are having a BLOG OFF to see which is the best!

See, the Water Blog gets all kinds of attention for being an innovative way to communicate with customers about something that's usually pretty damn boring (it's a utility, for cryin' out loud). I mean, they post things like photos of the now-infamous Mt Tabor skinny dippers, and trivia on topics like "how often are Portland's iconic Benson Bubblers cleaned?" (answer: every two weeks). The Oregonian has called it "the city's most interesting blog..." and we've called it "pretty rad..." in the past.

All that attention, it seems, has made the folks at the Red Cross blog incredibly jealous. (See: "Oh, Water Blog. You are our biggest competition.") They blog fun stuff too, like intra-office pranks, safety tips, and info on the Breaking Dawn book release party blood drive.

So! The Red Cross Blog challenged the Water Blog crew to a blog off. And you, my friends, get to pose some of the challenges.

From Team Water Blog, Sarah Bott writes:

We'd like to let the readers of Willamette Week and The Mercury blogs decide, and to define the judging categories. For example, on Monday, August 18 both should blog about x topic, and on the 19th both should blog about y topic, etc.

What should the criteria and the topics be? We'd like to let the people tell us in a pre-contest poll.

Not to be outdone, Lise Harwin of Team Red Cross Blog adds:

Just wanted to throw out some daily blog assignments that we thought of for inspiration:

* Create a Top 10 list
* Write a post that must contain five words of the moderators' choice

Feel free to be creative and tough -- I know that Robin and I will be up for the challenge, though I'm not so sure about the Water Blog folks...

- Lise

Oh, it is ON. (And dear lord, I'm a geek.)

So, readers, let it rip! Post your challenge suggestions in the comments (and then, apparently, Corey Pein at WW--who has already stipulated "no haikus"--and I will cooperate in an unprecedented way to come up with the week's line-up).

AND! To crank up the competition another notch, vote for your favorite pre-challenge blog. Let's find out who the underdog really is... (poll closes Friday afternoon at 3 pm).

Which Blog is Better?

My favorite feature is the Unbelievably Expensive Toasters, like this one:

I just sort of wish Veerbeck would explain why these are so expensive. In fact, Veerbeck doesn't really explain all that much. After perusing the site for a while, I couldn't help but wonder, what sort of toaster museum doesn't discuss the history of toasters, why some models fail, while others succeed, and why someone would make an online toaster museum in the first place. But Veerbeck almost makes up for that with his fantastic photographs. Almost.

"No," she replied. "It's a tapir. It's a sort of horse/elephant/pig thing."

"Wow!" we exclaimed. So, of course our next question was, "Can you milk them?"

Sahar did not know the answer. I felt pretty certain that you could milk a tapir if you wanted to, and perhaps the milk would come out of its funny snout.

So I immediately embarked on some internet research to get to the bottom of this question. Results? Inconclusive. But I did find this, which may or may not be worth 55 seconds of your time:

So, in summation: Tapirs are cow/horse/anteater thingies that may or may not provide milk, that may or may not grant wishes when you rub their magical snouts, and that definitely love massages.

If you create an account at www.youvebeenleftbehind.com, an automated something-or-other will send messages to your family and friends telling them where you've gone after the Rapture happens. Depending of if you are nice or not, you could write "Hey, you should accept Christ and come to heaven and stuff" or "Ha! Told you this would happen. Now enjoy your seven years of tribulation, mofo."

You can also send out documents detailing how you want your assets taken care of after you've gone to paradise. According to the folks at You'veBeenLeftBehind:

In the encrypted portion of your account, you can give [your loved ones] access to your baking, brokerage, hidden valuables, and powers of attorney (you won't be needing them anymore, and the gift will drive home the message of love). There won't be any bodies, so a probate court will take seven years to clear your assets. Seven years, of course, is all the time that will be left. So basically the Government of the Antichrist gets your stuff, unless you make it available in another way.

All that for only forty bucks, y'all. Seems like a good deal to me.

A post on MetaFilter today cites an article in Smithsonian Magazine from February 2008.

"Found: the oldest joke in the world," read the headline in the Sunday Times of London on June 29, 1997. Inscribed on a roll of papyrus, the hoary jape could be translated as a riddle: "How do you entertain a bored pharaoh? You sail a boatload of young women dressed only in fishing nets down the Nile and urge the pharaoh to go catch a fish."

I guess you had to be there (in 2600 b.c., when King Snefru received this wink-wink nudge-nudge advice from the court magician Djadjamankh.) Or perhaps it was funnier in the original hieroglyphic. (Asp jackal ibis? Wiggly line, ankh, feather!)

So, on that note, I should like to share with you my personal oldest joke, a hilarious riddle I composed at the age of five:

Why did the chicken cross the road only halfway?
Because he was a crossing guard.

Saint Paul is 40 miles or so south of Portland. Its population is only 300, but for one weekend of the year, it becomes a patriotic promised land where you can eat a log of curly fries larger than your head in the shade of a cheap carnival ferris wheel.

The stands are rife with large animals and the folks who ride them. Big bulls, big belt buckles. Copenhagen Smokeless Tobacco and the U.S. Army both had tents right next to a cotton candy stand and the bull pen.

One of the carnival's featured artists was a man who carves bears, salmon, horses and eagles with a chainsaw. I asked him which fearsome creature was the hottest seller. "Everyone wants bears. It can even be an ugly bear. Anything resembling a bear will sell."

Blogtownies, I open the floor for suggestions, and if one tickles my fancy I may just take it!

What made the experience memorable was how much it offended my culturally sensitive liberal sensibilities. The goofy intro starts out with Ben, the pasty male tourist with the badly thought out earring, visibly cowering in fear just from the looks of their Southeast Asian tour guides, who by the way, are portrayed like this:

Dante's was packed (stuffed, crammed?) last night for the US Air Guitar Championships regional competition. It was elbow to elbow at the bar and shoulder to shoulder in front of the stage as air-master-cum-documentary-superstar Bjorn Turoq took the mic. He is a dimpled and charming air-guitar satyr who made a name for himself via a heated rivalry with World Champion Air Guitar hero C. Diddy. Their epic air battles were featured in the documentary Air Guitar Nation which, Bjorn told us proudly, was the top rented documentary from Netflix in the Portland-Metro region.

Here's the skinny on Air Guitar competitions: Each competitor rocks two rounds, shredding their invisible ax for 60 seconds each round. The first round performance is to a snippet of raw rock goodness chosen by the performer. The second round performance is to a suprise song, chosen by the air guitar gods. The scoring, which was an uneven ordeal from last nights introspective, local press (anyone ever heard of the Morning Minute?), is based on the Olympic Figure Skating system. Why not?

Judges are looking for:
Technique: Do they belive you are holding an invisible guitar. No, like, reaaaally believe, man.
Style: Is your package stuffed enough?
Air-ness: No fucking clue about what this is actually. But apparently, you know it when you see it.

The competitors took the stage and I'd say a quarter of the field was very lame. Especially the women. And I totally don't get why women aren't ruling this competition. Anyone ever heard of Heart? Hellooooo. "Magic Man?" Anyone?

However, there were some real wiene... er, winners, on the stage last night. If you want to call them that. One of my favorites was Ricky Stinkfinger. See below:

He's down! Oh wait, he's up again!

And yes, that is the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers theme song

I took off after the first round. But Sarah, the intrepid intern, stayed 'till the juicy, sweaty, beer soaked climax. Read about it, in her own words, after the jump.