sit back and chill...
Q: I run over fields and woods all day. Under the bed at night I sit not alone. My tongue hangs out, up and to the rear, awaiting to be filled in the morning. What am I?
A: A shoe.
Q: What can run but never walks, has a mouth but never talks, has a head but never weeps, has a bed but never sleeps?
A: A river.
Q: A certain crime is punishable if attempted but not punishable if committed. What is it?
Q: What goes around the world but stays in a corner?
A: A Stamp.
Q: I’m light as a feather, yet the strongest man can’t hold me for much more than a minute. What am I?
Q: What gets wetter and wetter the more it dries?
A: A towel.
Q: I am the black child of a white father, a wingless bird, flying even to the clouds of heaven. I give birth to tears of mourning in pupils that meet me, even though there is no cause for grief, and at once on my birth I am dissolved into air. What am I?
Q: I’m where yesterday follows today, and tomorrow’s in the middle. What am I?
A: A dictionary.
Q: I’m the part of the bird that’s not in the sky. I can swim in the ocean and yet remain dry. What am I?
A: A shadow.
- ▼ 2009 (67)