Crushed by a giant duck.
Headhunters. Damn.
I, too, shall meet my end with the Kodiak. (I’m sure there’s a “Polaroid Moment” joke in there somewhere.)
And yet, the only thing about this bit of information that I found troubling was that the correct term is bestiality, isn’t it? If it’s going to kill me, I’d at least prefer not to appear ignorant at the moment of my demise.
Me too. Maybe we can split off in separate directions, diverting half the swarm each way, then meet up again in the middle. We be smarter than them average bees, right?
Well, at least we can share the cost of the call to the bee keeper.
I’m going to be decapitated by cannibalistic head-hunters.
According to the website, I should quit traipsing around in out of the way places and stay closer to home.
I’m a meteoric kind of guy. If I were a girl, would I be a meteor maid?
A meteorite is, by definition, at rest on the surface of the Earth. Even if you count as part of the surface, it’s impacting you and has not yet come to rest. “Brief fraction of a second” is indeed solecistic, if not truly a tautology. It resembles “for long aeons the ___ waited” in Lovecraftian works – ever seen a short aeon?
Me, I’m getting struck by a train at a railway crossing – which, considering what they misnomer as grade crossings around here (I’ve seen lower hills with their own names!), seems quite probable.