The Cosmic Playground of Phantom Whoopee Cushions

Welcome to Cosmic Timelessness, where questions like "Is the universe one continuous sneeze?" are not just pondered but giggled at with the gusto of a thousand kittens preying on a cardboard box. Don't mind the phantom footsteps; they probably just mistook the void for an old acquaintance.

Did you hear about the black hole that went to therapy? It felt empty inside. But seriously, the stars are like celestial donuts, each with its own sprinkles of gas, heat, and lurking existential dread. Ever tried to catch a comet in a jar? They’re much slipperier than they appear, much like the socks I wore on that icy Tuesday.

Speaking of slippery tales, wander further into the folds of whimsy, where gravity is merely polite suggestion and time is a loosely interpreted avant-garde performance art.