Mobsters Are in the Mob, but Lobsters Aren’t in the Lob.
Jul22
Interested in an appetizer? Have a bloody Roman.
©2008-2024 Chris Combs Powered by WordPress with ComicPress
Interested in an appetizer? Have a bloody Roman.
©2008-2024 Chris Combs Powered by WordPress with ComicPress
Okay I was literally looking up the etymology of ‘lobster’ an hour ago. Which is right now, in Mountain Time. This is eerie.
I’d want to change my name too if I was named after the Innu ‘farting god.’ And who is that gushing over the … holy water stand or whatever. Is that Mississippi? Mississippi what are you doing here, you river-havin’ knucklehead..
And I heard a guy say “See ya, wouldn’t wanna be ya” earlier today. First time in years.
Also, the asteroid Julie never changed its name. It’s like how there was a planet (that might’ve thought of itself as) Ledarius just floating around for eons until someone spotted it and said, “That’s my planet!” And then everyone else was like, “You’re not a god, Herschel. That’s Uranus.”
I must admit, that other asteroid looks more like Mississippi than it doesn’t.
We really should ask astronomical objects their names politely before adding our own.
I once heard “it ain’t easy bein’ cheesy” totally unironically on the bus. Old jazz men are wonderful.
Julie had actually visited several rodeos in real life, but she liked to fantasize about never having been to any.
This made me wonder: If I had ever been in the stands at a rodeo, I would’ve seen a rodeo. But if a flea had been in the stands, it wouldn’t have seen it. So size relative to distance seems to be significant in rodeo attendance.
Think of a doomsday meteor, like the one that ruined dinosaur times. That thing was around 6 miles in diameter. I haven’t had my suit size measured in well over a decade, but I believe my chest was something like 38 inches in diameter. (I may be completely misunderstanding how this works, which, if so, is my prerogative.) This means that the rock that ended the Cretaceous period was about 1667 times my diameter.
Supposing I were 50 feet away from the rodeo while in the stands, the asteroid would (if my hypothesis and math are correct) be able to have the equivalent view from 83,350 feet, or 15 miles.
So, basically, the time between the meteor seeing a rodeo and it crashing into Earth would effectively be zero.
Well, size and how your eyes function. Bug-type eyes usually don’t at a distance. And of course asteroids only have meteoreyes
I think even a human the size of a flea would have a hard time seeing the rodeo. But a human would still be all, “I’ve been to a rodeo,” kinda like if I said I’ve “been to Minnesota” because I had a layover there.
I don’t steal valor that way, but many do.