It's a homeless cat, no doubt. What this shit about it being man anyway?
Look, the cat has 4 legs in the morning, but then its legs are torn off by a dog or a car or something. By nighttime, someone has taken pity on the cat and given it a 3rd leg. Ie; a stick.
Look, it's a silly riddle, let's try to have some fun with it.
A group of people with assorted eye colors live on an island. They are all perfect logicians -- if a conclusion can be logically deduced, they will do it instantly. No one knows the color of their eyes. Every night at midnight, a ferry stops at the island. Any islanders who have figured out the color of their own eyes then leave the island, and the rest stay. Everyone can see everyone else at all times and keeps a count of the number of people they see with each eye color (excluding themselves), but they cannot otherwise communicate. Everyone on the island knows all the rules in this paragraph.
On this island there are 100 blue-eyed people, 100 brown-eyed people, and the Guru (she happens to have green eyes). So any given blue-eyed person can see 100 people with brown eyes and 99 people with blue eyes (and one with green), but that does not tell him his own eye color; as far as he knows the totals could be 101 brown and 99 blue. Or 100 brown, 99 blue, and he could have red eyes.
The Guru is allowed to speak once (let's say at noon), on one day in all their endless years on the island. Standing before the islanders, she says the following:
"I can see someone who has blue eyes."
Who leaves the island, and on what night?
There are no mirrors or reflecting surfaces, nothing dumb. It is not a trick question, and the answer is logical. It doesn't depend on tricky wording or anyone lying or guessing, and it doesn't involve people doing something silly like creating a sign language or doing genetics. The Guru is not making eye contact with anyone in particular; she's simply saying "I count at least one blue-eyed person on this island who isn't me."
A group of people with assorted eye colors live on an island. They are all perfect logicians -- if a conclusion can be logically deduced, they will do it instantly. No one knows the color of their eyes. Every night at midnight, a ferry stops at the island. Any islanders who have figured out the color of their own eyes then leave the island, and the rest stay. Everyone can see everyone else at all times and keeps a count of the number of people they see with each eye color (excluding themselves), but they cannot otherwise communicate. Everyone on the island knows all the rules in this paragraph.
On this island there are 100 blue-eyed people, 100 brown-eyed people, and the Guru (she happens to have green eyes). So any given blue-eyed person can see 100 people with brown eyes and 99 people with blue eyes (and one with green), but that does not tell him his own eye color; as far as he knows the totals could be 101 brown and 99 blue. Or 100 brown, 99 blue, and he could have red eyes.
The Guru is allowed to speak once (let's say at noon), on one day in all their endless years on the island. Standing before the islanders, she says the following:
"I can see someone who has blue eyes."
Who leaves the island, and on what night?
There are no mirrors or reflecting surfaces, nothing dumb. It is not a trick question, and the answer is logical. It doesn't depend on tricky wording or anyone lying or guessing, and it doesn't involve people doing something silly like creating a sign language or doing genetics. The Guru is not making eye contact with anyone in particular; she's simply saying "I count at least one blue-eyed person on this island who isn't me."
All 100 blue eyed people leave on day 100, I never did get what was so hard about that puzzle.
'Twas whispered in Heaven, 'twas muttered in Hell,
And echo caught faintly the sound as it fell;
On the confines of Earth, 'twas permitted to rest,
And in the depths of the ocean its presence confessed;
'Twill be found in the sphere when 'tis riven asunder,
Be seen in the lightning and heard in the thunder;
'Twas allotted to man with his earliest breath,
Attends him at birth and awaits him at death,
Presides o'er his happiness, honor and health,
Is the prop of his house and the end of his wealth.
In the heaps of the miser, 'tis hoarded with care,
But is sure to be lost on his prodigal heir;
It begins every hope, every wish it must bound;
With the husbandman toils, and with monarchs is crowned;
Without it the soldier and seaman may roam,
But woe to the wretch who expels it from home!
In the whispers of conscience its voice will be found,
Nor e'er in the whirlwind of passion be drowned;
'Twill soften the heart; but though deaf be the ear,
It will make him acutely and instantly hear.
Set in shade, let it rest like a delicate flower;
Ah! Breath on it softly, it dies in an hour.
So ur with ur honey and yur making out wen the phone rigns. U anser it n the vioce is wut ru doing wit my daughter? U tell ur girl n she say my dad is ded. THEN WHO WAS PHONE?
A homeless man is sitting on a park bench. You are jogging.
As you jog up to him, he holds his hand out and asks for change, you jog on past, pretending that you can't hear him over your iPod.
Feeling guilty, you stop. You reach into the pocket of your running shorts for a couple of bucks you were saving for a bottle of water. You turn around to jog back to the homeless man.
He is already standing right behind you. The park is suddenly abandoned. His eyes are wriggling masses of wasp larvae, he outstretches his arms, each which are 5 feet in length. His mouth opens inexplicably wide, his lower jaw touching his sternum. The only sound he emits from his gaping mouth is a dial tone.
Before he pulls you into the black cavernous throat of his, you have time to scream,
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