Astrologer sues NASA over Deep Impact space probe

Yep, you read that right. A Russian astrologer has filed a $300,000,000 lawsuit against NASA, claiming that the Deep Impact probe, which intercepted comet Tempel 1, “violated her spiritual rights.”

“The experiment, in which NASA fired a projectile the size of a fridge at the comet Monday, was an attack on “the holy of holies,” Marina Bai’s law suit claims, according to Russian press reports. Her suit, filed at a Moscow court, claims violation of her “life and spiritual values.”

“In any case, it is obvious that elements of the comet’s orbit and associated ephemera will change after the explosion, which interferes with my practice of astrology and deforms my horoscope,” the Izvestia daily quoted Bai as saying.

Folks, you just can’t get enough of this sort of nuttiness for my entertainment dollar!

The weird, weird, weird weekend…and tits!

Okay, so.

The weekend started innocently enough. Saturday, zensidhe and fangly celebrated the anniversary of their creation in some sinister government laboratory and their birth, respectively; the theme of the party was “Mad Scientist,” which afforded many photo ops I may eventually get around to posting. Alcohol, guns, goth chicks, datan0de in a lab jacket…all the usual things one might expect from a party at zensidhe‘s place.

Now, ordinarily, a party at zensidhe‘s place would provide enough material for several LiveJournal entries, not to mention a couple police reports and a sexual escapade or two of the kind that creates moments you look back on later and plow into a parked car. Sunday, though, brought something that has distracted Shelly and I since, so I can’t really post appropriately about the party.

“What did Sunday bring?” I hear you ask. Well, thanks for asking! Sunday brought this:

Shelly and I went for a walk in the park late Sunday evening. This particular park is in downtown Tampa, and while we were on the back stretch of the park, we heard a meowing behind us. We turn around, and this kitty comes running at us as fast as her little kitty legs will carry her, and launches herself into Shelly’s arms, purring madly. She was skinny to the point of being gaunt and very dirty, and we didn’t have the heart to leave her. We carried her the three quarters of a mile or so to the car, and she never protested except to hiss and spit whenever anyone else walked by. Kind of weird.

Now, I was worried that our other cat, Snow Crash, would cause a big problem. We rescued him as a kitten last Christmas (what is it with national holidays and cats with us???!!), anbd he’s quite aggressive and playful. I needn’t have worried. As soon as we got home, the new cat proceeded to terrorize the living bejeezus out of Snow Crash, even though he’s eleven pounds to her five. We named her “Molly,” after the character in William Gibson’s Neuromancer.


It looks like she’s pregnant(!).

Monday, Shelly and S and I went to Orlando to visit with S‘s other boyfriend and to connect with nihilus, phyrra, and some friends of theirs for dinner and fireworks. The dinner was good, the fireworks were spectacular, I got one of the very few good pictures I have of S:

And I promised tits in the title. Since everyone1 knows the only way to get people to read large swaths of text is to offer them tits, without further ado, I present phyrra at zensidhe‘s party:

Look! Tits! (Borderline not-safe-for-work, depending on how liberal your work environment is)