I was reading The Salmon of Doubt this morning. 
I miss Douglas.
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Originally Posted by DNA
The following morning the weather was so foul it hardly deserved the name, and Dirk decided to call it Stanley instead. Stanley wasn’t a good downpour. Nothing wrong with a good downpour for clearing the air. Stanley was the sort of thing you needed a good downpour to clear the air of. Stanley was muggy, close, and oppressive, like some one large and sweaty pressed up against you in a tube train. Stanley didn’t rain, but every so often he dribbled on you. Dirk stood outside in the Stanley.
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per·son \ˈpər-sən\ (noun) - an ephemeral collection of small, irrational decisions
The fun thing about evolution (and science in general) is that it happens whether you believe in it or not.
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