So...what does a teenage mutant ninja female turtle look like?

I tried.  I mean, I really tried to connect with these...these...humans. I even gave them pizza when they got the male and female pig genitals correct.  I gently worked them through simple concepts of comparative anatomy, and the differences dividing all phyla in Kingdom Animalia.  I even gave them a review. Yes, that's right, I did this, even though I felt dirty the entire time for abandoning all I hold dear, the social Darwinism, only the strong survive, the no-holds-barred of basic biology class.  I am supposed to be the thin red line (really, more of a maroon, and quite large) to stem every ignorant civilian from the wonders of being a biology major.  I thought I had a good class--alive, taking notes, asking questions...except for that one obligatory comotose patient in class.  I gave them a review for the final, (yes, me!), along with the questions to the cumulative final short answer portion.  So what was the result?  Oh, most did well, but there were a number of students who completely muffed the questions.  For example, did you know that turtles have an exoskeleton as well as mammary glands?  I certainly did not.  Also, a certain student confessed to not knowing the answer and blamed me for the class being too hard for a freshman.  Well, you know what?  Science is hard.  But Science is also awesome.  That fickle mistress frustrates us and tempts us further, saying, "But what will the next experiment show?"  And so we plow ahead, radiation safety regulations and those shifting morals nonwithstanding.  But we don't give up, because we never know what the next discovery the new day will bring.  A new laser?  An artificial intelligence whose violence we can control (important note:  Check safeguards before giving robot the new laser system next time) and who doesn't have an obsession with backgammon?  Sharks with laser, please.  Give me a Koala with lasers, and then we'll talk (no one would expect those cute, little, std-ridden tree climbers to have lasers).  But just as quickly, Science can destroy one's chances to become great--or at least infamous.  Look at me, had all the radiation, chlamydia, and disposable minions I could ask for one minute, and the next, teaching students at a small (but respectable) private college in (redacted).  I mean, no one has really missed those frog species, have they? (stupid talking minion--how am I supposed to destabilize the environment as a weapon for that tin-pot dictator per our contract without wiping out a couple species??)  But now I cannot get a vision of a insectoid-like gigantic turtle with huge, pendulous, scaly breasts out of the seared parts of my imagination.  I mean, it doesn't even have lasers.
*sigh* So, boobs and turtles are a thing...I think people should stop breeding. 

Soo...a couple of things have happened in the interspersing months since my last post to the ether of nothingness which is this hidden blog.  First, I got my scientific mojo back, huzzah!  Turns out I needed to start sleeping again and returning to the well of focused anger of martial arts.  I am ignoring the suggestions by our Dean and have resumed training in the lab with a hanging bag and faces of random faculty on it.  I am not angry with them, quite the contrary, they rarely even intersect my focus, but apparently I have fresh comments (complaints?  Whatever.) about my behavior.  Just because my workout time coincides with the large groups of potential students touring campus doesn't mean I planned it...precisely. I think that we need to shock these jaded and entitled youth out of their comfy highschool shell, shattering their expectations of elderly professors quavering through a musty explanation of moth mating patterns.  No, they need to realize that biology is where the rubber hits the road, where chemistry, genetics, and cells have a cage match, all of nature duking it out on every mountain during every storm, in every gram of soil at the molecular level!  No holds barred, to the death, sweep-the-leg-Johnny-put-him-in-a-body-bag battle of biology against everything to survive!  How else to explain the awesomeness of biology without words than to see a scientist running experiments in the lab while whizzing through the air and kicking nikola tesla with a tornado roundhouse kick!

Secondly, my oldest minion has stated that I am an 'evil scientist'.  Not a mad, but very decidedly evil.  I don't know where she gets this stuff, I make a very conscious effort to avoid implying 'good' or 'bad' or 'heinous' to anything I talk about around the lair.  Someone is feeding her misinformation, and I suspect the nanny of this, in the library!  Why does the nanny get to judge on my transgenic experiments in toxin-exuding rats as, "evil, horrid, abominations"?  Why can't I be the "fun scientist"?  Those rats, while demonstrating a surprising increase in their intelligence, have a wonderful sense of humor.  Who is more fun that I?  Don't say Bill Nye, that guy is as much a scientist as a zucchini is a Nobel laureate.