In an age where cringe is fossilized into rock, I discovered the ancient chronicles of my first toast mishap. Ah, the burnt bread inscribed with "Still Life," left by the artist who forgot the difference between buttering and blazing.
Behold! The primordial documents reveal a wisdom tooth that spoke, "Why floss when you can bide your time like a sloth?" Found between the caveman's grocery list and an apology to a mammoth.
The diary of a defunct vacuum cleaner whispered secrets of dust bunnies and existential crises: "Do I suck harder when I know? Or is knowledge just the hairball of enlightenment?"
Here lie the records of a memo, written by hand, guiding one to "Remember Thursday." Historians debate if this was for a meeting or merely lunch.