Peanuts by Charles Schulz for February 05, 1978
February 04, 1978
February 06, 1978
Transcript:
Snoopy is jogging along and puffing in the woods. His lungs think,"This hard on us lungs." His heart thinks,"If I start complaining, you're all in trouble." His lungs think,"Shut up, heart!"<BR><BR> His feet think,"Why do we feet have to do all the work?" His toes think,"How about toes? You think it's easy being a toe?"<BR><BR> His ears think,"You guys are always complaining...we ears can hear you way up here!" His legs think,"Besides, it's us legs who really do the running..."<BR><BR> His back thinks,"All I know is, running is hard on the back...backs should be home in bed...." His nose thinks,"How about noses? I hate jokes about running noses!"<BR><BR> His lips think,"Lips are made for kissing, not running...we need more kissing..." His stomach thinks,"I'm hungry!"<BR><BR> His arms think,"Ha! I knew the stomach would start complaining pretty soon! We arms never complain." His feet think,"That's a laugh! If it isn't bursitis, it's tennis elbow! We still say it's we feet who do all the work..."<BR><BR> His finger thinks,"You think it's easy being a finger?" His elbow thinks,"Ha! Just try being an elbow sometime!"<BR><BR> Snoopy jogs along thinking,"How can the long-distance runner ever get lonely?"<BR><BR>
jtyroler about 8 years ago
“The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner” is a short story by Alan Sillitoe from 1959.
Stormwyrm over 3 years ago
And the eye cannot say unto the hand, I have no need of thee: nor again the head to the feet, I have no need of you. Nay, much more those members of the body, which seem to be more feeble, are necessary: And those members of the body, which we think to be less honourable, upon these we bestow more abundant honour; and our uncomely parts have more abundant comeliness. — 1 Corinthians 12:21-23
alien011 about 1 month ago
The organs in the body were arguing about who should be the boss. The brain said “I do all the thinking, therefore I should be the boss.” The heart claimed: “No, I pump all the blood, so I should be the boss.” Then the butthole chimed in and said: “No, really, I should be the boss.”, but everybody just started laughing. So the butthole decided to go on strike, and soon the body was filling up with poop. And so the other organs decided that the butthole should have it’s will and declared it the boss. And the moral of the story? All bosses are buttholes.