[[A blonde woman and a brunette woman observe a snake on the ground.]]
Blonde: Whoa, a snake!
Brunette: Cool!
Blonde: I'm afraid of snakes.
[[The brunette looks pensive.]]
Brunette: I'm afraid of saying "Everything's complicated right now, but maybe next year" until there are no more years left.
[[The blonde considers her response.]]
[[The brunette cuts her off mid-sentence.]]
Blonde: Do you--
Brunette: I want to be a storm chaser.
[[A tornado reaches from the black storm clouds to the earth, kicking up a sizable cloud of debris at its base. The blonde woman is at the wheel of a car, the brunette hanging out the window and holding a camera.]]
{{Title text: Oh God, the tornado picked up snakes!}}
Warning: this comic occasionally contains strong language (which may be unsuitable for children), unusual humor (which may be unsuitable for adults), and advanced mathematics (which may be unsuitable for liberal-arts majors).
We did not invent the algorithm. The algorithm consistently finds Jesus. The algorithm killed Jeeves. The algorithm is banned in China. The algorithm is from Jersey. The algorithm constantly finds Jesus. This is not the algorithm. This is close.