“T-Rex was actually a humongous chicken,” said famed Dinosaurologist Jock Fossil, “Though he still would’ve eaten Colonel Sanders faster than you can say hot wing.”

DNA analysis has shown that gallus domesticus, AKA the McNugget, actually descended from a nightmarish, man-eating dinosaur that used to roam Earth eating cave men like chicken poppers.

“It’s got to have been a big come down for the species,” Fossil says sympathetically. “One millenia, you’re top of the food chain, lording it over pretty mush everything on the planet, the next, you’re just a little pecker hoping not to wind up in someone’s paprikash.”

Animal psychologists believe the species suffers from a sort of perpetual post traumatic stress syndrome as a result of its precipitous fall in pecking order.

“How would you like it if someone came along, shrank you from being the size of a decent size condominium till you were no bigger than a bread basket, covered you in feathers and replaced your fearsome teeth with a little beak?” said Fossil. “No wonder they became chickens.”

“On the bright side, instead of having to break out a hackneyed punchline the next time you’re eating frog legs or badger, say,” says Fossil, “You can tell everyone it tastes like T-Rex and actually be telling the truth.”

“You ladies who want boys best like big butts,” said the study’s lead researcher, Neville Pynch. “You want a baby girl, step away from the refrigerator.”

While plenty of scientists find the researchers’ findings credible, many in America are choking on their Whoppers.

“I mean, if their research were true, America would look like ancient Sparta — or at least ‘Let’s Hear it for the Boys’,” said famed Obesiologist Lawrence Torrence. “We’re one fat ass nation.”

While arguments over the veracity of the study will likely continue for some time, Torrence plans to fatten up his bank account with an exploitative, information-poor new book entitled, “Men are from Big Macs, Women are from Celery.”

“It was either that or “Binge is for Blue, Purge is for Pink,” Torrence says.

“I had just had a night of pretty heavy, well, sinning,” said Lance Francis. “Here I am with a bottle of ketchup ready to do further sacrilege — and suddenly I see the faces of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost beaming up at me from my plate. I fell to my knees. I believe I expressed fluids. I was that overcome.”

Francis had barely gotten off his phone from trademarking his Triplicate Miracle Meal®, when an outpouring of the faithful — intent on seeing the likeness of the Holy Trinity in a stack of Swedish pancakes, sausage and two eggs over-easy — forced authorities to lock down four city blocks surrounding the IHOP.

“There were so many people with candles and flowers I thought maybe someone had died,” Francis said, of the scene.

“Instead, something came back to life inside of me: my faith in God. I mean, here I am a few hours ago just hittin’ it with this total hottie — totally out of wedlock, you know? I shower, head over to the IHOP and next thing you know the Holy Trinity appears in my grub and Mirage casino’s on the phone offering me 50K for it! What’s not to have faith in God about? That’s good damn karma, am I right?”

Larry Lynn, general manager of Las Vega’s MGM Mirage, confirmed that the casino had purchased Francis’ holy platter, but said it wasn’t about to exploit the miracle meal for monetary gain.

“We believe we’re serving our guests when we bring them a religious spectacle of this nature,” said Lynn. “That lumberjack special is Wayne Newton big. It’s bigger than the Pope! We would never seek to exploit it for monetary gain, never.”

As for IHOP employees, fry cook Jesus DeSilva summed it up thusly: “I knew there was something special going on when Margarita picked up that order from me…but I had no idea it was gonna involve so many people crying over one of my meals.”

That’s divine dining for you.

“All breakthroughs, discoveries and cures achieved by cheating are hereby nullified…even if they do cure cancer,” said ISC spokesperson, Dr. Lucius Taint. “Our regrets to those with cancer…best get your affairs in order.”

Taint likened such collateral damage to that of confessed steroid user Marion Jones’ relay teammates. Though none of them tested positive for drug-use, because teammate and relay anchor Jones did, all their gold medals were nullified and their lives turned to s**t.

Taint also insisted that breakthroughs like saving the planet and curing cancer that result from scientists using brain-enhancing drugs set a bad example for kids.

“Chemicals are for chemistry, not humans…except the chemicals we already use,” insisted Taint. “A cure for cancer achieved by using brain-enhancing drugs is a cancer on a cure for cancer.”

“After careful analysis, I am absolutely certain that what you’re seeing reflected in the VP’s sunglasses is beefcakes,” said famed forensic investigator, Larry Terry, of Venice, CA. “There’s no question in my mind.”

And that’s not just any guy in the buff, according to Terry, whose extensive library of Blueboy and Bear magazines bolster his assertions.

“I’m actually familiar with this man from a recent layover in the Minneapolis Airport,” said Terry. “I’d recognize that wide stance anywhere — even if he is on his knees. Actually, because he’s on his knees.”

Though Terry doesn’t know the nude man’s name, he’s not surprised a 10-point buck turned up in Cheney’s sunglasses, or that it seems to delight the Veep.

“I’ve been on fishing trips with a bunch of guys when a big buck shows up at the watering hole,” said Terry. “It’s hard not to get excited at seeing such an impressive rack.”

Terry also noted that if you look at the picture really hard, you can see a massage table and a couple packets of meth on it. We’re still looking for that.

The short answer: Never…or when it doesn’t happen to you. The long answer (that appears short): When it inspires us to greatness.

That’s exactly what it did for South Venice hobbyist and inventor Larry Terry, who turned the plight of one mortified female flier into a personal crusade. As a result, and because of Terry’s ingenuity, neither nipple rings nor airport strip searches will ever be the same again.

It was at Lubbock International Airport that flier Mandi Hamlin’s boob baubles first triggered checkpoint metal detectors. After telling security guards it was probably her nip rings, Ms. Hamlin was forced to remove them behind a curtain as sniggering guards gathered outside. She had to borrow pliers to remove one of the pesky buggers.

Deeply moved by Ms. Hamlin’s titular humiliation, Terry went to work “McGyvering” the problem. In no time, he’d found a solution.

The result is the Larry Terry line of SFF (safe for flight) nipple rings. SFF nipple rings are handcrafted lucite that look to many like shower curtain rings. SFF rings are guaranteed not to trigger airport security systems for the same reason plastic explosives don’t — because no one can afford detectors.

Terry’s creative solutions don’t merely extend to nipple rings. His line of SFF creations runs the gamut of clamps, clips, plugs and Prince Albert thing-a-ma-bobs that today’s on-the-go travelers expect to wear through airport security without dropping trou.

Buoyed by the grateful response from the body mod community, Terry will soon begin work on a line of flesh-pull hooks and suspension gear.

Others are like, “duh.”

“Where does any man-eater go this time of year?” said Ellen Barkin, as she careened into Cabo with a carload of cougars.

With tens of thousands of oiled-up, liquored-up youths in banana hammocks and board shorts crowding area beaches for March meat madness, predators — sexual and seafaring — stream south for the yearly Cabo Wabo gobble-a-thon.

“I don’t know why the shark experts are making such a big deal about how fast the fish got down here,” Ms. Barkin exclaimed, during a tequila body-shot-drinking limbo contest.

“We would’ve been here a lot faster, ourselves,” Barkin said, “If we hadn’t stopped to bang every hot, young stud we met on the way down.”

As for the juvenile shark, making it to “Sammy Hagar City” in time for the party was a single-minded pursuit.

“I have a very small brain, so single-minded pursuits suit me,” the shark said, through pilot fish interpreters. “I may not be that good at small talk, but once there’s blood in the water, I’ll eat the ass off pretty much all comers.”

“Now that I think about it,” the Pope said, on a conference call with reporters, “There are a few more transgressions that really get up my nose.”

These additional, or addendum sins, include: 

• Ruining the “wide stance” defense for the rest of us;
• Using walkie-talkie phones…ever;
• Ending every statement with “fool”;
• Ditching your perfectly good SUV for a Prius;
• Male lower-back tattoos;
• Carrot Top;
• Texting one person while “talking” to another;
• Defending Tom Cruise.

Really tiresome shit that apparently didn’t make the “sin” cut this time around include perennial moral lapses mime, farting under the blankets, and reality shows.

Receiving serious consideration for the next Vatican sin update are flacking for Hillary Clinton and persecuting others while banging prostitutes at four grand-a-pop.

Turns out the next time you go to take a pill with a glass of water you can pretty much skip the pill. Merely drinking the glass of water will likely cure whatever ails you. So a watershed investigation of America’s drinking water by the Associated Press reveals. 

“A vast array of pharmaceuticals — including antibiotics, anti-convulsants, mood stabilizers and sex hormones — have been found in the drinking water supplies of at least 41 million Americans,” according to AP writers.

Which means we already have universal heath care! Politicians can stop flogging the subject and get back to flogging one another. 

The AP found “56 pharmaceuticals or byproducts in treated drinking water, including medicines for pain, infection, high cholesterol, asthma, epilepsy, mental illness and heart problem.” 

You can’t do much better than that for fixing what ails you. Hell, that’s better coverage than the best insurance companies provide! Since when did they cover sexual reassignment drugs? Not the last time I reassigned.

As it turns out, water really is the best thing for a hangover. Acetaminophen and ibuprofin — Tylenol and Advil — are already in the water. Heck with those little hang-over pill packs. Emergen C, too. 

Next time you feel a little something coming on, skip the pharmacy and head to the drinking fountain. Knowing you won’t be denied drug coverage should make you sleep a lot better. Plus, there’s Ambien in the water.

“I’ve never seen so many guys loading up on Swiffers in my life,” said Bunny Hoover, Southeast Regional Manager for Piggly Wiggly supermarkets. “The Brawny and Mr. Clean were first to go at most of our locations. We had reports from a Myrtle Beach store of men jousting in the aisles with sponge mops.”

Reports of fisticuffs over basin, tub ‘n tile cleaners and Tidy Bowl were common among store owners, even coming from retirement communities like Sun City, AZ, where pharmacies reported a parallel upswing in smash & grab robberies of Viagra, Cialis and Levitra.

“We were pretty much out of any and all housecleaning products by noon,” said a shaken Los Angeles 99-Cents Store checker. “I must’ve had twenty guys on the express lane offer to do my laundry. I felt…unclean.”

Piggly Wiggly’s Hoover told of men loitering outside stores hoping to find house-cleaning work, while one former online publisher was reportedly seen outside a Venice, CA Ralph’s with a full janitorial cart.

Construction foreman reported a big drop in the number of men looking for day laborer work as more and more sought domestic cleaning oppotunities including lining drawers with contact paper and canning pickles.

By press time, the first reports of a backlash were coming in. A Denver-area Peapod driver told of one exhausted-looking housewife refusing delivery of her husband’s second pallet of Scrubbing Bubbles that day.

In related business news: House Cleaning Stocks Spurt Up on Reports Housework = More Sex.