5 Completely Pointless Scientific Studies
Science has given us so much — Knowledge of space, knowledge of time, knowledge of ourselves. It is the quest for an understanding of our place in the universe, and it attempts to find answers to both the fundamental elements of existence, and the larger overarching phenomenon that we may never fully grasp. One could even argue that science, in all of its forms, is the pursuit for the meaning of life itself.
Science is also a lame excuse to put your fingers in a guy’s ass and to hang out with strippers. These real scientific studies prove that while some lab coat sporting nerds are reaching for the intellectual stars, others are just trying to see how much funding they can shit away before they get fired.
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Monkeys Can’t Type For Shit
If you give an infinite number of monkeys an infinite number of typewriters and an infinite amount of time, the monkeys will eventually produce the collected works of William Shakespeare. Whether or not it will be leather bound and possess a badass monkey forward isn’t really the point. It’s simply a highly improbable situation that is backed up by the law of probability, and it’s called the Infinite Monkey Theorem.
Some researchers at Plymouth University in England had so much faith in primates that they may as well have nailed a chimp to a cross to die for all of our primate sins. These crazy British bastards actually put the infinite monkey theorem to the test.
The results? Well, we’ll let one of the researchers tell you himself:
“They get bored and they shit on the keyboard rather than type.”
That’s a real quote. From a scientist.
To be fair, the monkeys weren’t given anywhere near infinite time to crank out Mr. Shakespeare’s work. They didn’t even have infinite monkeys to work with seeing as there has yet to be infinite monkeys. There’s been maybe, like, 1,000 ever. The study only used six of them. On top of that, they only had one typewriter and it wasn’t even a typewriter; it was a plastic encased computer with holes over the keys. If you were to make a ratio of typing machines in the original problem with the number they had in the study it would be ∞ :1. We asked a professional scientist if this was a good ratio for conducting science. He said, “That shit can’t even happen. So, no. “
The rest of this study’s results can be best summed up by the researchers in their various quotes given to both CBS News and The Guardian:
“the lead male got a stone and started bashing the hell out of it.”
“Another thing they were interested in was in defecating and urinating all over the keyboard”
“It was a hopeless failure in terms of science but that’s not really the point”
What was the point? Who knows? But in terms of finding out whether or not some monkeys might even come close to reproducing the works of Shakespeare, a mathematician deduced that it would take about 5 years for a damn near incalculable amount of monkeys (the number 10, followed by 813 zeros) to write a half-assed version of Shakespeare’s Sonnet #3.
Possible Practical Application?
All future IM applications replace bots with monkeys for those lonely nights where you want to sex chat with something that is a genetic cousin, and not your actual cousin.
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Menstruating Lap Dancers Don’t Get A Lot of Money
If you’ve ever been to a strip club during its off-peak hours then you know that the owners use that time to trot out their D-List dancers for your creepy pleasure. Off-peak is the best time to catch the ugg-os, the fatties, the hobblers, and the ovulaters – all of which come with a lowered expectation for big tips, and with a bucket of beer to make them seem dollar worthy.
"You want me to give you a dollar? That’s preposterous.”
Some scientists at the University of New Mexico in Albuquerque took a particular liking to the ovulaters, and they then wondered why. Soon thereafter, a hypothesis was born. They immediately went to their lab (which was probably a titty bar’s cocaine-caked bathroom stall) and they started to do some science.
The researchers signed up 18 dancers and asked them to log their hours, menstrual cycles, and tips, over the course of 60 days. They discovered that when the dancers were in the estrous phase of their ovulation (the phase when women are “in heat”) they pulled in the most cash – about $70 an hour. They also discovered that the closer they got to the proverbial “rag,” the more their tips dwindled. By the time a dancer was in full-blown menstruation they only received $35 an hour, which is about right according to the gaggle of pimps that that loiter in the Funny Crave break room. (The pimps also informed us to avoid the hoes on Mondays seeing as “the meat ain’t fresh”).
“I’m sorry, I can’t do this. I can smell you from here."
The only reasoning for this that the researchers could come up with was that perhaps the women in the estrous phase emitted some kind of subconscious signal – maybe pheromonal or physical – that awakened the need to mate in a male more so than any other phase. But one thing they were 100% sure of was that it wasn’t (and this is directly from the research paper) the dancers’ “conversational content” that brought in the cash.
Possible Practical Application?
Finding out the best time to leave your wife/girlfriend the hell alone, and when the best time is to buy her a diamond necklace.
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“…as a defense against unspeakable dread”
This study is all about the depressing story of a little boy named Peter. Peter was born premature and, because of this, needed 2 operations and repeated hospital visits.
At 2 months old, Peter was taken into the custody of Social Services as his mother was seen to be unfit for the job. As Peter grew, he moved from one caregiver to another, never really finding a place where he could fit in. This was not for a lack of trying, though. Peter desperately wanted to fit in, to be just one of the guys. But his surroundings were never quite right for him. To combat this, Peter naturally developed a sort of defense mechanism that warded off any negative feelings of his, or, in other words, would ward off “unspeakable dread.”
Peter farted. A lot.
"Goddamnit, Peter!"
Like a skunk fending off a predator, Peter would fart his way out of trouble. The abstract describes the fart as “a protective cloud of familiarity against the dread of falling apart.”
It’s just like all of those moments when you were a kid. Those moments where maybe you lost the big baseball game, or your dog died, or maybe you failed a test, and your mom or dad was right there to give you a big “cheer-up, buck-o” hug. But instead of parents, Peter farted. And instead of hugs, Peter farted.
That’s all the information we could find on ol’Peter and his stress soothing ass smells, but we’d like to assume that Peter made out okay in life. Hopefully Peter is now the head of a Fortune 500 company that produces a sort of Chap Stick that is applied to the lips of the anus which, when activated by a fart produces a windy scent so divine and ambrosial that people actually request you to fart in their open mouths.
That or he became so overwhelmed with life that he pushed too hard, shit himself inside out and died.
Possible Practical Application?
None, other than just generally making you feel better about your own existence.
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Curing Hiccups with a Digital Massage
If you’ve ever watched a doctor show then you’ve probably heard some dialogue like this:
Dr. Mckenzie: “You have to intubate the patient! NOW!”
Nurse Shelia: “But—but, he’s a murder! I can’t intubate a murderer of children!”
Dr. Mckenzie: “Damn it, Shelia! We took an oath! When you raised your hand and swore on that last day of doctor school, you swore to save everyone! Including baby killers!”
Nurse Shelia: “Fine! I’ll intubate this man that the media has labeled ‘The Fetus Strangler’ but after this, I quit!”
Doctor shows can get silly sometimes. They also do a lot of intubating, which is when they stick a tube in to your nose or throat so they can pump air in to your lungs, or food in to your belly. For all the good it does, intubating does have some side effects. For one, they may miss your lungs and stab your heart. We have no idea if this is true seeing as we just made it up. But everything in the body seems so close together that it sounds like a possibility. Also, the tube might pop off your nose or mouth, which will make all the doctors and nurses laugh while you die. (Again, probably not right).
"I just lacerated his heart. Lolz!"."
One common side effect of the intubation process is a persistent case of the hiccups. One such terrible case was a 60 year old man that had acute pancreatitis. After they gave him the stomach-style intubation, he started to hiccup. The doctors removed the tube hoping the hiccups would go away. They didn’t. The doctors tried various medications and elixirs. Nothing, still. His hics just kept on upping.
Then they called in Dr. Thinksoutsidethebox to see what he could do.
One of the nurses was probably all like “What should we do, Dr. Thinksoutsidethebox? This man is going to hic his innards up!”
Dr. Thinksoutsidethebox then flicked away his cigarette, removed his aviators, and administered a “digital rectal massage” while everyone looked on in awe. He cured the incurable hiccups, and then got his dick sucked by everyone.
Now, the phrase “digital massage” is what really screws up the interpretation of just what the doctor did to this guy. In this case, the word “Digital” means finger. This instantly removes about 83% of our initial fears as we imagined some kind of cybernetic being with blue glowing, circuit laced fingers flipping us over and diddling our poopy nethers until our screams of pain/ecstasy replaced the hiccups.
Proctology circa 2183
So, no. No sentient cyborgs from the future will be gently rubbing the inside of your anus with various lubricants and passion fruit scent anti-hiccup oils. It’s a dude just casually rubbing the inside of your ass to cure a problem with your diaphragm.
Side Note: Is it awkward if in this situation the doctor accidentally rubs your prostate and you cum all over yourself? Answer: No.
Possible Practical Application?
Global legalization of sodomy, and PSAs that run ad nauseum touting the benefits of proper ass play.
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Pressures Produced when Penguins Poo
If you ever wondered what scientists do in-between ground breaking research, its stuff like measuring the distance and pressure involved in a penguin dropping a deuce. This is how scientists unwind after years of dedication and hard work. It’s like following up The Brothers Karamazov with Jeff Foxworthy’s “You Might be a Redneck if…This Is The Biggest Book You’ve Ever Read.”
"Pew, pew!"
Like most stupid science, the researchers attempted to fancy-up their report with all manner of complex terminology and mathematical equations. Here is an entire passage we ripped rip out of the paper that perfectly demonstrates this:
“The expelled material hits the ground maximally 40±12 cm away from the bird and then leaves behind a whitish or pinkish streak that can end a few centimeters from the nests periphery and maybe up to 1 cm wide. The colour of the streak depends on whether the penguin had enjoyed a meal of fish (mostly white) or krill (pinkish). According to Jackson (1992), the time required to excrete 50% of the total fecal mass is 9.1 h and 14.5 h for fish and prawn food, respectively.”
The paper then goes on to discuss the penguins’ orificium venti (which is pretentious talk for “dick hole”) and how it becomes circular during the “venting” process. The only time in life where this information would ever be useful to anybody is when you are on trial for penguin rape. “But, your honor! The penguin’s orificium venti was in open aperture during its venting! It was just asking to get fucked!”
Oh, and they made a diagram because they’re idiots.
Finally, the paper ends with this:
“Whether the bird deliberately chooses the direction into which it decides to expel its feces or whether this depends on the direction from which the wind blows at the time of evacuation are questions that need to be addressed on another expedition to Antarctica.”
“Ha, right. Sure, we’ll free up some funds for you,” said science as it mimed jerking off. “In fact, I’m freeing up some funds right now.”
Possible Practical Application?
Penguin shit guns. Think about it.
