We hear a counterargument to our conversation earlier this week about how to accommodate transgender people in gyms.
Palindromist Barry Duncan has sent us two palindromes with this note:
It may be that the world will end this Friday. If it doesn’t, however, we’ll still have to reckon with the big man in the red suit.
Palindromes are attached. As this is a time for sharing, I encourage you to share these palindromes with anyone and everyone.
Wishing you a wonderful holiday season,
Oh, shall a man?
It’s ’12, no?
It’s Mayan, huh?
Nay, am still alive on 21st, in a mall.
Oh. Oh. Oh, a hero (N, S, W, E) freed.
I wonder: It’s an eve. One.
Nod, NORAD? A radar on.
Even as tired now (I, deer), few snore. Ha!
Ho ho ho!
Pace room, can I?
Saw a T. Nast Santa.
Was in a C. Moore cap.
It’s a Claus,
Is so, be fast:
I tire. Her?
It is us. Simmer. Ah.
Another note from Barry:
When I hear people talk about the upcoming Mayan apocalypse, my childhood flashes before my eyes. I’m not thinking that the end is near, I’m just remembering the regionally distinctive utterances of my South Jersey playmates: “Give me back that baseball. It’s Mayan!”
Well, if the world does end on the 21st, two days before my 56th birthday, I’ll always be a palindromic age, which isn’t such a bad deal. After all, an apocalyptic event can’t be reversed. Or can it?