Sunday, December 29, 2024

You are not my mother. You are a Snort.

Yesterday’s post “Birds” included an image from the P. D. Eastman book Are You My Mother? The most memorable line from that book, the only one I can quote from memory, is the one that serves as the title of this post.




On Friday morning, I was reading a children’s book called Alan’s Big, Scary Teeth to some young students, and one of them pointed to the words “SNORT! SNORT!” in an illustration and asked me what it said.


Then this afternoon, I ran across this image on /x/:

No comments:

Nicotine, Mars, and the Secret Dojo

I've just concluded an experiment with what I guess is the ultimate form of "passive smoking" -- using nicotine only in my sle...