I sometimes wonder about life as a caveman. Like, "What if a caveman broke his arm? He'd be screwed for life." Even if it healed, that arm still wouldn't be very useful in trying to kill saber-tooth tigers or putting a saddle onto a mastodon. I suppose that's part of the reason their life expectancy was so short. It's amazing to me that between killing animals and staying alive they found the time to paint things in their caves. I've lived in the same apartment for a few years, had easy access to food and medical care, and I still haven't done any painting.
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