🥒 -- 🌋 -- 🎽 -- 👳 -- 🐠 -- 🐳 -- 🚕 -- 🎄 -- 👽 -- 🎈 -- 🌏 -- 👃 -- 💎 -- 🎍 -- 📕
Come, every frustum longs to be a cone,
And every vector dreams of matrices.
Hark to the gentle gradient of the breeze:
It whispers of a more ergodic zone.
-- Stanislaw Lem, "Cyberiad"

If researchers wrote nursery rhymes...

Little Miss Muffet sat on her gluteal region,
Eating components of soured milk.
On at least one occasion,
along came an arachnid and sat down beside her,
Or at least in her vicinity,
And caused her to feel an overwhelming

👳 -- 🥞 -- 🔋 -- 🍧 -- 👹 -- 👔 -- 🚗 -- 💚 -- 📀 -- 🐛 -- 💗 -- 🚘 -- 📒 -- 🏓 -- 🚕

Ty :D

+REP <3 Best Friend :*