And yet, there I was. One little man on a flimsy little train (and I even still had a baby tooth to lose at the time) out of billions of people living on a floating blue rock. How can I knock Ruby? Who’s to say that I’m not going to happen to choke on my cell phone and die later that evening. Why’s dead, Ruby lives on.
The gravestone:
What’s in his trachea? Oh, look, a Nokia!
From here.
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