Random Asides

SGU/Skepchick Crossover Fun

If you’re a fan of The Skeptics’ Guide to the Universe, you really should be reading this thread on our forum. Here’s a post I made tonight:

ME: I’m on chat with the Skepchicks. We just finished a con call.
STEVE: Where are they? Are they naked?
CHAT:
Elyse Anders
8:49 PM
totally naked
A Kovacs
8:49 PM
I am!
Elyse Anders
8:49 PM
no,,, i’m wearing pasties and a thong
carr2d2
8:49 PM
and as far as he knows, yes i am
Elyse Anders
8:49 PM
and 6″ heels
8:49 PM

i confess
8:49 PM

anyone want to pillow fight?

STEVE: This is getting very distracting.

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Rebecca Watson

Rebecca leads a team of skeptical female activists at Skepchick.org. She travels around the world delivering entertaining talks on science, atheism, feminism, and skepticism. There is currently an asteroid orbiting the sun with her name on it. You can follow her every fascinating move on Twitter or on Google+.

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56 Comments

  1. Man, the Skepchick chat was out of control. We had a 40 minute voice conference call among nine (?) of us, and then I had to record the podcast at 9pm. Meanwhile, the skepchicks kept text chatting in the background. I’m now finished the podcast, it’s 11:10pm, and not only are we still chatting but we spent some time batting around Steve, Bob, Evan, and Jay. Then we kicked them out and let in Phil Plait, who is currently attempting to turn his charm factor up to 11. He’s holding his own thus far.

  2. *giggle* Sounds like fun!

    On an only slightly related note, I was IM’ing with a friend (yes, really just a friend) and found myself typing the words “subset of sex.” You know, like in math, where one group of numbers is a subset of another. It’s just not a phrase you see every day and it made me laugh … chat can be so broadening.

    (No pillows were harmed in the making of this comment.)

  3. Detroitus, the discussion was whether or not a person could be SO GOOD that being in bed with them could be classified as a whole separate fun-things category from sex. (The categories listed so far were apples, chocolate fudge, whiskey, and sex.) I maintained that even mindblowing sex is still sex, although it may be considered a subset thereof. My friend believes that if it’s good enough, it merits its own category.

    I can’t think of anything more entertaining to which one could apply the scientific method.

  4. Your friend is correct. Sex can be so awesome it counts as a completely different thing.

    Sex with me is like that.

    Feel free to not take my word for it. Skepticism means getting the evidence, right?

    That’s right, I just invited people to have sex with me FOR SCIENCE!

  5. Some of the best evidence for Steve’s awesomeness is the contrast on the rare occasions when he takes a break from being awesome.

    I always expect Rebecca and Jay to be hilarious, but the moments that make me laugh out loud while riding my bike to work on 110 degree Phoenix afternoons are those occasions when Steve forgets to sound professional for five seconds. They’re rare on the podcast. Like when he was the first to call Sylvester Stallone’s mother an “Ass Whisperer.”

    And now he’s given me a vision, however fleeting and unlikely to be true, of naked skepchicks. Life is good.

  6. I think it’s funny that Steve is all “Mr Medical Science” but when it comes to boobs he wants natural natural natural. The hypocrisy!

    Keep your Kevin Trudeau away from my sparkly tits!

  7. For the record, my boobs are naturally diamond encrusted.

    Hopefully one day they’ll be unnaturally smaller, though. (I just have to find a surgeon I trust not to steal my diamonds)

  8. Um, vreify?

    What about your love for us Skepchicks? Do we get some love for holding our own with those boys? We totally should. Did you see that Rebecca even threw Phil Plait into the mix later on? And still we brought the sass?

    Skepchicks rawk, I’m just saying.

    (but yeah, my favorite all-time SGU moment is when Steve Novella says “gimme a minute” because he can’t talk because he’s cracking up. Sometime in November 2007…maybe the 13th-ish?)

  9. Thank you Bee… I’m always eager to advance science, whatever the cost. If getting ravaged by a bunch of hot skeptics who are obsessed with their own breasts is what it takes, then by god that’s the sacrifice I’m willing to make.

  10. MINUTES of research??? No no no… Proper scientific research requires hours of painstaking effort and attention to detail. No stone must be left unturned and every possible scenario must be accommodated.

    There are peaks to overcome and things will be hard but eventually the theory will open up to us and we’ll just keep pushing until everything comes together nicely.

    It’s science.

  11. Wait… are we talking about boobs, or about having sex with me FOR SCIENCE!?

    I mean, I don’t have a problem either way, but I think some people are on one topic and other people are on another, and even though I’m perfectly fine with the line being a bit blurry on that score, some of the other people in this conversation might want to keep them strictly separated.

  12. With Love From Me To You

    Oh, I Wish I’d Looked After Me Tits

    By Pam Ayres

    Oh, I wish I’d looked after me dear old knockers,

    Not flashed them to boys behind the school lockers,

    Or let them get fondled by randy old dockers,

    Oh, I wish I’d looked after me tits.

    ‘Cos now I’m much older and gravity’s winning.

    It’s Nature’s revenge for all that sinning,

    And those dirty memories are rapidly dimming,

    Oh, I wish I’d looked after me tits.

    ‘Cos tits can be such troublesome things

    When they no longer bounce, but dangle and swing.

    And although they go well with my Bingo wings,

    I wish I’d looked after me tits.

    When they’re both long enough to tie up in a bow,

    When it’s not the sweet chariot that swings low,

    When they’re less of a friend and more of a foe,

    Then I wish I’d looked after me tits.

    When I was young I got whistles and hoots,

    From the men on the site to the men in the suits,

    Now me nipples get stuck in the zips on me boots,

    Oh, I wish I’d looked after me tits.

    When I was younger I rode bikes and scooters,

    Cruising around with my favourite suitors.

    Now the wheels get entangled with my dangling hooters,

    I wish I’d looked after me tits.

    When they follow behind and get trapped in the door,

    When they’re less in the air and more near the floor,

    When people see less of them rather than more,

    Oh, I wish I’d looked after me tits.

  13. “Wait… are we talking about boobs, or about having sex with me FOR SCIENCE!?

    I mean, I don’t have a problem either way, but I think some people are on one topic and other people are on another, and even though I’m perfectly fine with the line being a bit blurry on that score, some of the other people in this conversation might want to keep them strictly separated.”

    Well, for my part I don’t see that the topics are mutually exclusive … :D

  14. I believe the context of the comment, Bjornar, was that it could be classified as a completely separate cagetory of pleasure.

    For example, chocolate is good. Hot cocoa, chocolate chips, chocolate fudge, chocolate ice cream, fudge frosting, lots of good kinds of chocolate. But the Black-Out Cake at Gerry Frank’s Konditerei restaurant is so completely chocolate, so completely delicious, that I hesitate to put it in the generic “chocolate” category of pleasure — it very nearly requires a category of its own.

    However, it’s much simpler to submit my claim to testing than Rystefn’s. ;)

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