Neither does popcorn.

Call me Ishmael.

Hell, I’ve been waiting for 99942 Apophis to swing by us since Stargate was still on the air. Still got five years left on that one, but 2004 when that was first called out as a concern was the first time I really started contemplating the idea of the actual end of the world, in a bang not a whimper.

Sure, Y2K was supposed to cause some chaos, and 2012 was fun from a “what if magic is real” sort of angle, but everything else has been a gradual dawning realization that the world as we know it is probably going to be gone in my children’s lifetimes – not over yet, but profoundly changed, more difficult, the slow closing of the book on a golden age for humanity we didn’t fully appreciate while we were in it.

There’s a trope out there that Gen Z has to do everythingbfor themselves because the older generations have failed them so thoroughly.

It is fenced off on the grounds of the Royal Hospital in Chelsea, but some good aim with a small catapult could still get the job done.

Knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit. Wisdom is knowing not to put it in a fruit salad.

They already own a second or third house in a mountain state so they can ski in the winter. They’re already pre-migrated.

It’s a GOD, stupid. It can do whatever it wants.

How thoughtful of them to ensure that the deceased would have something to put up their butt in the underworld.

And there is some green coloration on it, indicating the dildo was once painted to look like a cucumber. Derek Smalls gets it.

Maybe it’s time to admit that you are bad at this and you should do something else besides trying to run a business. It’s clearly not your forte.

This is pretty good satire, and I gotta give you props for sticking to the bit, LunchMoneyThief.

Happy workers stay longer and don’t leave rotting fish in the vents right before quitting out of frustration.

Well, it was the maid of honor, so.

Give it to me.

I hope you’re referring to the unfinished compilation Salmon of Doubt as the sixth, and not that weak sub-fanfic tripe by Eoin Colfer.

Lamb was great! Really does a fantastic job of highlighting the hypocrisy inherent in modern religious constructs.

Godel, Escher, Bach
Infinite Jest
The Lord of the Rings
The Demon-Haunted World
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
Slaughterhouse-Five
Small Gods
Master and Commander

and everything else written by those authors.

The first two or three on that list might take several fits and starts to get through, YMMV, but they are WELL worth the effort, and you will come out the other side changed by the experience. The others are all pretty easily digestible, but no less transformative.

If I start to salivate in sympathetic parallel to the imagined hungry dogs, does that count?

And then I start to drool!