While this pandemic is absolutely a drag, I am trying to do things to better myself.
I spend a fair amount of time online, not just shopping, but working to expand my world, grow my mind with interesting facts, the kind of stuff that will make me the life of the party — should there ever be parties again.
And while I’ve learned some pretty great tidbits, such as … there is a horse fly named for Beyonce (it has a golden tushie); blue whales have hearts the size of small cars; lobsters communicate by peeing at each other out of their faces; and penguins projectile poop (because when they have eggs in the nest, they don’t want to leave, even if nature calls).
But, the best of the best, the cream of the crop, the piece de resistass, if you will, is that the lowly butt crack actually has a pretty highfalutin anatomical name: the intergluteal cleft. You could also call it the cleftal horizon, which I am officially on the record now calling dibs for as the band name I will use once I learn to play banjo and team up with Steve Martin and if any of you steals it first, I will come after you.
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