A new study sheds light on a fascinating whale behavior. But is it a form of play—or the marine equivalent of a skincare routine?
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A new study sheds light on a fascinating whale behavior. But is it a form of play—or the marine equivalent of a skincare routine?

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12/9/17 - Lonesome George kelping, Part 2! Part 1
Photos by Jodi Frediani
12/8/17 - Lonesome George kelping, Part 1! Part 2
The third photo shows a close-up of the large knick in his left pectoral fin, likely an old hunting injury.
Photos by Daniel Bianchetta
Photo by Blue Ocean Whale Watch:
Find the killer whale! Our 7:00am private charter saw 5 transient (Bigg's) killer whales including this extremely playful juvenile poking her head through a kelp paddy.
random drama out of nowhere
like ew

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So irony tastes like kelp?
Hello, dearie! Lovingcup’s mother Boathook here. I been asked to introduce myself since the little picture next to the name always remains the same and I can’t figure how to change it. Anyhow, looks like my daughter has gone a few ropes short of a rigging again, so I’ll be fielding a few questions. So, let’s get to it. Thanks for your question! Kelp doesn’t taste irony at all. Maybe a little coppery depending on where in the bay you take it from. You really ought should try it yourself, though. There! That weren’t so hard.
Inspector, would you or your mother please post her jelly recipe? Thanks.
No, I will not, because I value my readership to a certain extent and wish to keep them in a state of sound gastric health. Eating one of Mother Boathook’s unflavored jellies is like chewing on phlegm that has been marinated in pond water. And not the everyday normal healthy sort of phlegm, either; more like that sticky stuff that continues to coat your sinus cavities a week and a half after the initial infection is dealt with.
Look, it isn’t as though it’s some grand secret. You boil the seaweed until it expels all its unctuous slime into the foaming water. Then you ladle the selfsame unctuous slime into oiled bowls and put it in your icebox (or in cool sea-caves where iceboxes are not available). Let it sit for about an hour until it is firm, eat it, and then heave it all up into the convenient ocean and go find some actual food. The importance of this last step to the process cannot be overstated.
If irony was a breakfast cereal, what would it taste like?
I see what you’re cheekily suggesting, you little bird. You’re trying to imply that there’s some karmic parallel between my daughter Trixie’s constant whining about wanting to be a showmare rather than an athlete and my eminently sensible decision to leave behind a life of muck and dirt and constant mortal danger and huge odoriferous dogs to work with the best athletes in all Equestria. You’re trying to imply that it wasn’t a sensible decision at all! You’re trying to imply that I only made the choice I did because of all those times I fell overboard and got tangled up in stupid kelp beds and the dogs had to haul me back to shore in their mouths after which I sat sniffling on the beach waiting for the boats to come back in and I got really lonely because all the other fillies and colts were really good at kelping and took to it like ducks to water and what was wrong with me really, why did I have to be such a disappointment and all I could think about over and over again was that I hated kelping, hated it hated it hated it and so I cried a lot and gave myself the hiccoughs and so I tried to stop the hiccoughs by drinking out of a tide pool and it gave me cholera and I had to basically live in the privy for an entire week, aren't you? Is that what you’re implying?
Ridiculous. I can’t believe you even brought it up.