I was inadvertently exposed to the filth and depravity of VH1's "Rock of Love Bus," also known as STDs on Wheels, when I turned on my TV to watch the (relatively) innocent and science-fueled Big Bang Theory.

If you feel like dropping 150 IQ points, here's the clip in all its intellectual and classy glory. If you don't have any neurons to spare, here's a quote that sums up the few minutes' worth of the show I saw (and that's all I ever want to see), as Bret Michaels expresses his heartfelt emotions with lyricism inspired by the deep wells of pure love: "You are this rocking hot centerfold, ok?"

If I were a sneaky disease, working my pathological magic through mimicry, I think I'd be vocal cord dysfunction.

What's VCD? I didn't even know it existed until last week, so don't feel embarrassed. Also known as laryngeal dysfunction, paradoxical vocal cord motion, laryngeal dyskinesia, vocal cord malfunction and a number of medicalese terms, this tricky little guy masquerades most commonly as the everyman of respiratory conditions, asthma. (And from the dawn of the 20th century to today, occasionally it's diagnosed as hysteria. It's all in your head, person who can't  breathe, it's all in your head.)

There isn't a lot that can pull me away from a hockey game.* Such is the power of Wired magazine, and really freaking cool science.

When people see the optical illusion known as "the hollow mask" - a concave face, like the back side of a hollow mask - they see a normal convex face, according to a Wired Science post (see photo below). But the approximately 1 percent of the population with schizophrenia see the concave face.