In the news, archaeologists with nothing better to do have been digging up graves of prehistoric hunter-gatherers in Europe. They say there’s evidence that human sacrifice was common back then. But I looked at the picture they provided and all I saw was evidence that the skeleton on the left was giving the skeleton in the middle a “happy ending.”
Is it my imagination, or is the guy in the middle enjoying having his bone touched? I didn’t realize a skeleton could look so happy. Anyway, the guy on the left, who I call Bruce, is the one I have the most questions about. Was he always gay, or did he just figure there was no harm in experimenting since he was going to be ritually slain in half a minute anyway.
Bruce: Hey, Larry. Can I ask you something?
Larry: Yes, Bruce?
Bruce: Do you mind if I grab your junk right before they kill us?
The skeleton on the right appears to be a woman who died from some sort of camel toe problem. But that’s another story. I apologize for making you go back and look at that same picture three times. I think you’ll agree it was worth it.
This is another example of why cartoonists are not allowed to practice archaeology. We’re too easily tempted to arrange Upper Paleolithic skeletons in sexual poses and claim we found them that way. Some might call that sort of thing desecration. To them I say, “Too soon?” Because unlike those skeletons, that joke never gets old.
It’s a bit unnerving to know that 27,000 years after I die, some goober can dig me up and start guessing what my life was like. That’s why I want to be buried with a kangaroo, a piano, and a bottle of mustard. I don’t want it to be too easy.
And come to think of it, throw Bruce’s bones in there with me too. He seems like fun.