Riddle:

How does one elude a big, scary personal trainer, hell-bent on running one ragged (in more ways than one! Yipe!)?
I feel like a striped cat, running from a highly intense Pepe Le Pew.

C.O.T.

If I was one of the casualties of a bomb blast *makes the sign of the cross* I'm not so sure I would really appreciate the "moment of silence" that is so commonly offered in their honour. Maybe this is just another one of those things that's more to comfort the living mourners.
Me, I'd prefer a "moment of flattery"!