Blog Guy, you seem to know a lot about nature. Can swans fly?

No. They can neither fly nor swim.

What? Hold on, I’ve SEEN swans swimming in lakes and rivers and stuff!

No, you’ve seen swans, which have very long legs, PRETENDING to swim. Mostly, though, they prefer to travel by boat.

Is that right? And where are they going in these photos?

Well, first they’re going to the doctor, and then for a treat they’re going to the ballet.

Which ballet?

“Swan Lake,” of course.

Sigh. I know I’ll regret asking this, but why are they going to the doctor?

Don’t you read the papers? It’s time for swan flu vaccinations

Blog Guy, that’s moronic even by your standards.

Yeah, but I have tickets to a good show, so this will have to be my…

No! Don’t say it!

Swan song…

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Swan keeper Olaf Niess watches swans sitting in boats after he and council workers rounded up them from Hamburg’s inner city lake Alster November 23, 2009. Every year the swans are collected from waterways around the northern German city of Hamburg and taken to winter quarters where they are fed and cared for until the spring. REUTERS/Christian Charisius

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Blog Guy, I’m outraged. Connect me to your blog’s complaint department!

Hello, this is the Odd Blog Complaint Department. Your call is important to us…

Look here, I think this Basler guy ran a photo of Usain Bolt and a cheetah cub for the SOLE purpose of justifying a cheap pun headline playing off of a hit song from 1966!

I see. And you somehow expected more from this blog?

Yes. Usually Bob would only use a cheetah picture if the animal was pooping or something like that.

Let me get this straight. You’d LIKE to see a photo of a pooping cheetah?

Um, yes. That’s the main reason most of us come to this blog.

Okay then, ma’am. Because we care about customer satisfaction, here you go.

Wow! I AM satisfied. I’ll be back soon, and I’ll bring my friends! Tell Bob thanks a lot!

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Above: Olympic and world champion sprinter Usain Bolt from Jamaica holds a three-month-old male cheetah cub at the Kenya Wildlife Service headquarters in Nairobi, November 2, 2009. Bolt adopted the cheetah cub named “Lightning Bolt” during the launch of the Animal Adoption Programme “Namayiana” at the Nairobi Animal Orphanage.

Below: A cheetah relieves itself in its cage at the KWS headquarters.

REUTERS photos by Thomas Mukoya

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Lamar, the big race starts in less than an hour! Where are the jockeys?

They’re coming, Boss!

Are they ready? Did they prepare for the race?

You betcha, Boss! They spent all night drinking!

That’s good. Drinking alcohol?

Of COURSE alcohol, Boss! What ELSE would you drink before the big race?

Just checkin’, Lamar. And did they wear themselves out?

For sure! They danced non-stop. Can’t even keep their eyes open!

Ah, there they are now, Lamar! I can see ‘em trying to find the stable…

It’s a grand sight, isn’t it, Lamar! On a morning like this, with the sun comin’ up over the puke-filled mud and the jockeys staggerin’ this way in their finery, if you squint just a bit you’d think you’re at the Royal Ascot Races.

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Riders finish a night of drinking alcohol and dancing before a traditional horse race on All Saints Day in Todos Santos, Guatemala, November 1, 2009. REUTERS/Daniel LeClair

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Blog Guy, you’re always making fun of fashion designers, acting like you think they are worthless, gangrenous canker sores on the buttocks of society.

Wait. You think I’m just acting?

You seem to be all talk and no action. Are you actually DOING anything to make things better?

In fact, yes. I’ve trained my dog as a fashion critic. I take her to the big shows, and she attacks the worst designs, but only when the situation is extreme.

So she doesn’t really LIKE attacking designs?

No. She’d much rather go after the designers.

How much can one dog do to improve things?

Maybe not much, but imagine dozens of trained fashion-critic dogs going wild at a spring/summer show in Paris. And dogs on the catwalk are only the first step.

I’m afraid to ask. What would be the next step?

In a perfect world? Dingos. Hyenas. Jackals. Wolverines…

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A dog chases a mock intruder during a function to celebrate the 25th Raising Day of the Indian National Security Guard in Manesar, south of New Delhi, October 16, 2009. REUTERS/Adnan Abidi

A model presents a creation by British designer John Galliano as part of his Spring/Summer 2010 women’s collection during Paris Fashion Week October 7, 2009. REUTERS/Jacky Naegelen 

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Sometimes I have to make up stupid stuff for this blog, but of course it’s much better when there is real, honest stupid stuff like this, to save me the trouble.

The photo above shows the two new zebras at a zoo in Gaza City.

And by “new,” I mean they are really donkeys who have just been painted with black stripes because the zoo’s owner says it would be too expensive to bring a genuine zebra into Israeli-blockaded Gaza.

While using this technique so children may may experience nature’s variety is beyond dumb, it does open whole new vistas for “zoos” in places where cost is an issue.

After all, there are only a handful of basic zoo animal shapes.

You’ve got your horse-shape, your big cat-shape and your monkey shape. Okay, maybe elephants and giraffes are more of a challenge, but that’s what steroids and neck-extenders are for, am I right?

A word of caution. Unless you want mass childhood trauma on a scale never seen before, you get those kids the hell out of there FAST when it starts to rain!

Zebra-painting video clip

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Top: Two dyed donkeys stand at Marah Land zoo in Gaza City October 8, 2009. The white donkeys dyed with black stripes delighted Palestinian kids who had never seen a zebra in the flesh.  REUTERS/Mohammed Salem

Left: Two models display zebra striped gowns in Milan in 2000 file photo. REUTERS/Stefano Rellandini

Right: A newly-born zebra is accompanied by his mother at their preserve in the Bosphorus Zoo near Istanbul, in 2003 file photo. REUTERS/Fatih Saribas

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Blog Guy? I read about Oktoberfest in your blog and went to the bar you suggested, and now I wanna die!

Really? What did you order?

Hold your voice down. I’ve never had a headache this bad. I ordered “Bavarian Shooters.” My ears are still ringing. I inhaled so much black smoke…

Uh, you DID make clear you wanted a beverage, right?

Apparently not. There were SIXTY of them. I don’t think I’m gonna make it.

Look, go back to that bar, tell ‘em I sent you, and ask for some “hair of the dog.” Can you remember that?

Sigh. You’re sure nothing can go wrong?

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Around 60 shooters in traditional Bavarian clothes fire off salutes during a last day ceremony at Munich’s 176th Oktoberfest October 4, 2009.

A German police officer and her bomb-sniffing dog search through an Oktoberfest tent during the early morning hours in Munich September 30, 2009.

REUTERS photos by Michaela Rehle

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Kids, gather ’round for another bedtime story. I know how you love really evil characters. Let’s see. We’ve covered Hannibal Lecter, Vlad the Impaler, Rod Blagojevich, Mad King Ludwig…

Okay, Timmy and Sally, turn the lights out, get under the covers, and I’ll tell you about a naturalist named Chris Packham…

“No, Uncle Bob! Not Chris Packham! Please! Who is he, anyway?”

Well, he’s the man who said conservationists should “pull the plug” on giant pandas, and just let them die out.

“No he did-dunt, Uncle Bob! Stop making that up!”

He says we spend too much money on the panda, because “unfortunately it’s big and cute.” Screw ‘em. Seen one panda, you’ve seen ‘em all.

But what happens when all the pandas are gone, Uncle Bob? What will that nasty man do then?

Well Sally, it wouldn’t surprise me if he goes after sea otters, polar bears and golden retrievers. You better bring Goldie in and hide her in the closet tonight, kids. She’s just too big and cute for her own good.

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Above: Chris Packham (L) Courtesy of All-electric Productions

Below: Washington’s famous giant panda off-spring, Tai Shan, celebrates his fourth birthday in Washington on July 9, 2009.   REUTERS Mehgan Murphy-Smithsonian’s National Zoo/Handout

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As an amateur anthropologist, I’ve spent years studying leisure activities in unfortunate parts of the world where - okay let’s be blunt - they don’t get American cable television.

I’ve found that this lack leads local cultures to settle for pitiful pastimes, like singing dingos and sofa races.  But nowhere are the ravages of TV deprivation as pathetic as they are in a place I like to call Spain.

Look at these genuine photos from this week. Competitors attempt to tear the head off of a killed goose. The winner gets the goose.

I swear, I am not making up this goose thing.

“Lonnie! Leggo of that goose head! Our New York cousin sent us some tapes!

Look! Here’s Dog the Bounty Hunter, Pimp my Ride, Ice Road Truckers,“  “Californication.” All kinds of quality stuff! Come on, Lonnie!”

“That’s okay, Ma! You watch it! I’ve just about got this goose head off, and then I’m heading for the bullfights!”

“Oh my poor Lonnie, I worry so about you. You’ll ALWAYS be a Spaniard!”

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A competitor attempts to tear off the head of a killed goose attached to a rope, which is repeatedly raised and lowered into the harbor, during fiestas in the Basque fishing town of Lekeitio September 6, 2009. REUTERS/Vincent West

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Blog Guy, what’s the humane situation in Britain? They really love their animals, right? But so like what if you’re a Brit person and you really have this urge to be cruel to animals? Is that a problem?

You can go fox hunting, though that’s a little more difficult these days.

But what if it doesn’t satisfy my need to be cruel? What if I try that, and just have the urge to torture BIGGER animals?

Oh, then you become a bullfighter and go to Spain.

A British bullfighter? Come on!

There really is one. We have photos of him.

Wow! I bet he has to be REALLY fit for a sport like that. Isn’t that a very demanding skill?

Uh, this guy is 67 years old, he’s had quadruple by-pass surgery and a replaced knee.

My God! How does he survive in the ring?

You can see him here with his “assistants.” I believe they protect him in the ring with machine guns and flame throwers.

Do you have any pictures of him with an actual bull?

In the photo below it looks like he THINKS he’s touching a bull. Does that count?

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Above: British matador Frank Evans, 67, poses with his assistants before a bullfight in Benalmadena, Spain, August 30, 2009. Evans, known on the circuit as “El Ingles,” quit bullfighting in 2005, but came out of retirement last year after enduring quadruple by-pass surgery and having a knee replaced.

Right: Evans practices before the bullfight.

REUTERS photos by Jon Nazca

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Blog Guy, I’m back with more questions about the honorable sport of bullfighting.

Sure, but let me remind you, bullfighting isn’t a sport, it’s a “sport.” Big difference.

Sorry. So what is the essence of the matador’s code? I mean, what is foremost in  his mind as he enters the ring for the classic confrontation between man and beast?

That’s an easy one. It’s, “How can I get the hell away from this snorting behemoth as pronto as possible?”

Take the bullfighter in the photo below. He’s calculating how much gauze and medical apparatus his assistants should put on him so the crowd won’t expect him to go into the ring.

I believe in bullfighting parlance it’s called El Sicko Dayo.

Wow! And did it turn out that an arm sling and four rolls of gauze were enough?

No. Next time I bet he’s smart enough to bring crutches and a neck brace.

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Spanish bullfighter Cayetano Rivera gestures before a bullfight at the bull ring in Almeria, southeastern Spain, August 25, 2009. REUTERS/Francisco Bonilla

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