Of Frogs and Men

From my burly and excessively musculated exterior (HAH!, burly like freshly made Jell-O), you would surmise that I've killed people. But I can't kill vertebrates to save my neck. Zoology requires that we kill defenceless frogs for the pursuit of knowledge.

If I need to know how a frog's innards work to analyze 3rd quarter return spreadsheets, I'll probably use a plastic "Visible Frog" set. I look at my frog being lobotomized in front of me and ask, how many eggs he had not spermiated (or something like that). How many flies and other slimy invertebrate scum he had not eaten as appetizers.

We are not cavemen, we have technology! We people can model an eviscerated frog, cow or the lost second nose of Michael Jackson in the computer, right? Maybe it's just the human response to seeing jugulars and parietal lobes or something, but Biology should teach unsuspecting non-Biology students to respect the environment and preserve its native flora/fauna/flaurna.

Hmmm, my brain isn't farting like it's old self today. I'm ending this post now and eating the frog I brought from school with butter and a side of fries.

Labor of love, incomplete

What do you think?
It took a week's worth of my not-that-valuable time, but it's almost finished.

Click on the image to see the full size majesty.

After this, I'm taking a three day sleep-a-thon, I'm bushed!