By New Scientist
Amazing and fascinating questions and solutions from the group at the back of the foreign phenomenon Why Don’t Penguins’ toes Freeze?
The popular-science journal at the back of the runaway overseas bestsellers Why Don’t Penguins’ ft Freeze? and Does whatever consume Wasps? takes on one other impossible to resist batch of the unusual, foolish, and mind-boggling questions that plague curious minds across the world:
<UL>* Can pigeons sweat, can fish get thirsty, and will bugs get fat?* may possibly anyone devote the appropriate homicide via killing anyone the day after receiving a whole blood transfusion?* Is there the way to beat the chances of the lottery through the use of math?* How a lot mucus does a nostril produce in the course of the regular cold?* If compelled to consume elements of your self to outlive, which non-vital organs will be the so much nutritious?
Culled from New Scientist’s renowned “The final Word” column and edited by means of Mick O’Hare, the writer of How to Fossilize Your Hamster, Do Polar Bears Get Lonely? is bound to amuse and amaze up to it informs.
(And if a polar undergo seems to be lonely, it most likely skill there wasn’t sufficient walrus for dinner.)
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I stumbled uphill, crashing blindly through tree limbs and heavy undergrowth, conscious of the noise I was making and could do nothing about. I had gone about fifty yards up the steep incline, when I came to a fallen tree blocking my path. I clambered over the rough bark and dropped to the ground, then cautiously looked back toward the road. They were closer than I'd imagined. Too close for any margin of safety. Two of them stood alongside the trailer's back fender, and as I watched, the third jumped down from the cab and ran back to meet them.
I started walking. A vehicle rounded the bend in the road ahead and accelerated toward me. I stood, frozen in the bright headlights. I hadn't noticed whether it was a car or a pickup or a dualie pulling a horse trailer. I staggered into the woods and dropped to the ground. It whizzed by. A car . . only a car. I hung my head and listened to my pulse pound in my ears. After a minute or two, I stepped onto the pavement and tucked my hands under my armpits. My fingers felt like blocks of ice, and my teeth were chattering so hard, my jaw hurt.
He came closer and inspected my face. " I ignored him. " I shoved the scoop into the grain, then emptied some of the pellets back into the cart until I could see the three-quart line. " "The usual circus. You shoulda been here Monday. Mrs. Gardner came back from some cruise Sunday night and found out about her horse secondhand," Marty said through a yawn. " I said. " Marty slapped his thigh. "That's right. You missed it. The Monday you were off, before the horses got pinched, Sanders brought this blonde to the barn.