I often wonder if Mr. W is human. The man is insanely patient, obsessed with aliens jumping out of chests ("Add that to your book and it'll sell right away!"), and prone to saying the weirdest and funniest things ever.
What I found on the coffee table this morning has deepened my suspicion that I am living with some sort of robot or possibly an actual alien.
Is that how a normal person eats an Easter Bunny? I think not.
If I disappear one day, please make sure the authorities know about this post and know they might be dealing with something... odd. Something inhuman.
Off to run 14 km! (And I'm odd myself, I guess, since I'm looking forward to it. :)