From the you-can’t-make-this-crap-up department:
First the Alien Autopsy hoax, now this: recent crop circles in Tasmania aren’t being created from on high, they’re the result of being high. Some toking teenagers with ropes and boards? Not this time; blame it on Woodstock for Wallabies. The animals are snacking in the poppy fields, then grooving to their own beat and stomping circles into the harvest. While getting hoppy in the poppies is nothing new, these whacked-out wallabies had UFO researchers fooled briefly, before farmers set the story straight. No reports on anyone actually interviewing the spaced-out kangaroo cousins to see if they saw aliens during their rave, most likely because the eyewitness account would be “Hey, duuuuuuuuude, you got any Chee-tos?”
Likewise, reports that the ringleader was an animated Tasmanian Devil have not been verified.
Calling Samuel L. Jackson: You’re needed Down Under.
Four out of twelve baby pythons escaped from their cargo box during a recent flight from Alice Springs to Melbourne earlier this week, causing the airline to cancel two flights while searching for the slithering tykes. The tiny terrors, shipped with their less rebellious brethren in a foam box with holes, had apparently de-boarded, according to a snake expert who attempted to ferret out the non-poisonous wigglers. The plane was then fumigated, and put back in service. Reports of four slithery hitch hikers carrying tiny bags of peanuts near the airport couldn’t be confirmed.
In a related story, the latest trend of flying while tucking your feet under you and slapping at any magazine that moves seems to be all the rage.
A prankster flooded the offices of the Santa Monica Pier Aquarium (warning, PDF link) recently, but the culprit didn’t make a clean escape; in fact, it was an inside job.
Staff members blame a small, friendly two-spotted octopus, and since she has eight arms, one can assume she’s all hands, although no one knows if she was just trying to get a leg up in the aquarium food chain. Apparently the super-ambidextrous showgirl pulled on a valve in her tank, flooding it and the facility’s offices. Local authorities believe the incident was a natural accident, but a talkative sea urchin says too many safe-cracking movies may be to blame.
The staff cleaned up the water just before a large group of schoolkids showed up for a tour, which robbed the tots of some true entertainment: watching the wily octopus make her bid for liquid world domination.
An additional note: isn’t it nice to read about something ‘octo’ without the word ‘mom’ attached?
Ah, weddings! Something old, something new, something borrowed, something…with cheese? An Illinois couple (from the seemingly misnamed town of Normal) tied the Gordita knot recently in a neighborhood Taco Bell. Party favors were sauce packets, and the happy lovebirds sealed their spicy yet inexpensive love with the help of an online-ordained, t-shirt-wearing minister. News reports say that the bride looked resplendent in a $15 hot pink dress, and the entire wedding cost $200. Seriously? Who could spend $200 at Taco Bell?
The honeymoon plans were not disclosed to the press, although rumors of a weekend spent in a Winnebago located in the eatery’s parking lot wouldn’t be far off base; one day, the newlyweirds will have to explain the whole story to their daughter, Volcano Taco.
It could have been the next Ameri-nun Idol: an Italian priest called off his online contest for Sisters after receiving the Simon Cowell treatment from his superiors. The convent-dweller hyped his nunfest as an ‘inner beauty competition,’ but some members of the church were not amused, and worried that the contestants might break their habit with a not-so-pious strut down the catwalk. In a misunderstanding worthy of a Three’s Company episode, what started as a black-and-white blog post to highlight the nuns’ good deeds and worthy work turned into an uncomfortable gray area that focused on holy hotties. So to all those Sisters secretly practicing their Madonna Vogue face, relax, and bide your time: the pageant may be kaput, but there’s surely a reality show just around the corner. Coming up next season on Fox: Get Thee to a Nunnery!
We interrupt your crazily scheduled weird news fix to bring you an important message: blogger, writer, and mama extrodinaire Mysti has a darling little boy born too soon. Simon is fighting for his life, and his family needs your help. In this day of ballooning gas prices and rising costs of…well, everything, Simon’s family is saddled with more than the daily overwhelming worry of their precious bundle’s health; they are also burdened by the financial challenge of traveling to Denver to see their son. Take a moment and visit Supporting Simon, read his story, and make life easier for one tiny, determined spark in the world. No joke this time, just hope. Thanks.
The typing monkeys here at WeirdIts love a good weird news story, and nearly dropped their Shakespearean manuscripts when one story came across the net with a headline too good to be true.
The headline? Underwear chicken dare puts man in hospital. Immediately, all minds were spinning, thinking about the different ways a man could be injured by shoving a chicken in his underwear, or making a chicken wear tighty-whiteys. And what about feathered thongs?
Everyone howled as the text revealed an ordinary story about an Australian man who ran out into the road in his Underoos and got smacked by an 18-wheeler. Not good, but not that unusual, really.
The monkeys liked the imaginary version better, and take their tiny hats off to that Reuters reporter with a divine sense of the weird.
What would be better than scoring the last Golden Ticket into Willy Wonka’s fictional candy factory? Try a real-life ticket to space, the final frontier, for one French ‘air hostess.’ (Sorry, but that brings Twinkies to mind; let’s stick with stewardess, just for retro fun.)
The hungry sky worker grabbed a Kit Kat bar at a local French supermarket and snarfed down the chocolate, not thinking about Nestle’s space race contest until the sugar high wore off. A couple of hours later, she returned to the scene of the snack, and found the winning wrapper in the refuse. The ticket wins her a seat on the Rocketplane XP, part of an developing project to bring economical space travel to the masses—because we as a species have apparently already achieved cheap, comfortable, punctual air travel here on earth.
The high-flying choco-fan also receives several days of training like an astronaut in Oklahoma City, which may be more of a culture shock for her than the actual trip into space. Let’s just hope when she gets to claim her final prize, she overcomes the urge to make sure everyone is strapped in securely with their cell phones turned off.
One Wisconsin burglar had more than sticky fingers when he broke into a family’s home recently–he was discovered in the basement, inexplicably drenched in BBQ sauce. The residents heard the cookout-ready crook whistling down below, which drew the attention–and the firepower–of the homeowner, who kept a shotgun trained on the painted perp until police arrived and questioned his edible attire. The suspect’s saucy response stated he was covered in ‘urban camouflage,’ since he was ‘on the run from the government.’ Perhaps he’s on to something: somewhere in a distant land, tucked away in a cave, Osama bin Laden may be covered in KC Masterpiece sauce. Paging Hannibal Lecter!