Behold, the Universe sits, a silent overseer of humorous human happenings. Here lies truth, not as a beacon, but as a jest. Do stars laugh at our trivial pursuits? Perhaps their twinkling is merely an applause.
The Galactic Bureau has released a statement: "All inquiries regarding life's meaning shall be redirected to the nearest black hole." A reminder that cosmic dust, when settled, shows no mercy to our grand aspirations.
A comet recently observed in the outer reaches of our imagination remarked, "To gain insight is to understand one lacks it." And so, we tour the celestial marketplace, seeking wisdom as one seeks rare spices for an insipid stew.
The planets turn, indifferent witnesses to our plight. Mercury scoffs, Venus glimmers, and Mars? Oh, Mars simply rolls its eyes. When cosmic dust settles, it reveals words, forgotten yet familiar — an irony etched in the fabric of time.
"Why did Saturn refuse to dance?" a Saturnian stand-up posed, fabric rings quivering. "Because it didn't want to get tangled in the Nebula's spin!"