The Lost Colony of Roanoke DNA Project was founded by a group led by Roberta Estes in 2005 in order to solve the mystery of the Lost Colonies of Roanoke using historical records, migration patterns, oral histories and DNA testing.
Interesting!
Lost Colony DNA Project
Six seconds of concentrated cute.
to counter intuitiveaptitude’s post ;)
“And Maggie Makes Three” is one of my favorite episodes. AWW.
you know there are 80 gagillion songs about girls breaking guys' hearts
but where are the songs about douchebag guys breaking girls’ hearts? maybe i don’t know any cuz i don’t really like female singers. hmmm.
haha all i could think of was kelly clarkson—but in all seriousness, you might like these two, if you haven’t already heard them?
almost lover - a fine frenzy
lost and found - taken by trees
you’re right, though. it’s hard to find good ones.
oh man. that first one is too too perfect.
I recommend “The Fox” by Sleater-Kinney. Very angry.
Does “You Oughta Know” by Alanis Morisette count?
Stop What You’re Doing And Watch The Hell Out Of This of the Day: The entire cast of The Muppet Show perform the “Bohemian Rhapsody” cover to end all “Bohemian Rhapsody” covers.
(Seriously: Don’t bother covering “Bohemian Rhapsody.” You’d just be embarrasing yourself.)
[via.]
Sick
“I cannot go to school today,”
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I’m going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I’ve counted sixteen chicken pox.
And there’s one more—that’s seventeen,
And don’t you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut, my eyes are blue—
It might be instamatic flue.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I’m sure that my left leg is broken—
My hips hurt when I move my chin,
My belly button’s caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle’s sprained,
My ‘pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb,
I have a silver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow’s bent, my spine ain’t straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my hart is—what?
What’s that? What’s that you say?
You say today is… Saturday?
G’bye, I’m going out to play!”- Shel Silverstien
My favorite Shel poem. I have it memorized since when I wanted to stay home from school, I would often recite this to my mom. it never worked.
I have memories of trying to memorize this in elementary school.
