I live in Louisiana. The police don’t come for a few hours even if you call 911. If someone swats me, it might take 5 days before someone gets around to it. And I have a nice machete so they’ll probably just file it under “suspect had left the scene” and enjoy some overtime pay.

There’s an episode of King of the Hill where everyone finds our Hank has a narrow urethra. And his dad says, “I ain’t got a narrow ureetee. Mine’s so damn wide I could pass the child myself if I had to.”

Or something to that effect.

No one will ever know my Cajun ass ancestors are from France and that I have the gene where you’re urethra is so damn wide, you can pass the child yourself if you had to.

I encourage hostile governments (including my own) to study my DNA. It’ll ruin morale. Balls so big, they have a tenuous atmosphere and a measurable time dilation effect.

Braaaaiiiinnns. And a 16 piece family deal, spicy, with a side of red beans, mashed potatoes, and extra biscuits.

With this kind of speed, we could invent Call of Duty games where the Zombies want slightly more than brains. Generative A.I. uses internet data for training so at first, the zombies will probably request Doja Kat in the racial chat rooms showing feet but human progress marches ever forward. Within a decade, Zombies might just want to get drunk and go to Popeyes.