bird information page: *mentions breeding and egg laying tied to the lunar cycle*
Me: *instantly recalls the Dr.Eggman moon piss revenge rant* Mark is going to piss on the moon
Mark: I am going to blow up the moon. The bird populations will drop because they can’t get synchronized over lunar dust in space.
Me: I am uncomfortable with how accurately I have been spotting jokes before they happen. Soon I will be predicting death dates and disasters as the new moth-man. The powers I never asked for are steadily growing in strength, causing me to question the boundaries between monster, god, and man, as my sight pierces the vale of time and space to witness the indescribable in the act of the universe seeing itself. I shall be unbound to standard carporial form as I drift listlessly through the crowded void. Not a god but a grain of sand caught in the currents of an ocean, just as much as anything else.
Me: I just spilled energy drink all over my desk and have to refrain from slurping it off instead of getting a towel like a reasonable person.