Like, maybe you used to sculpt scale models of, uh . . . models . . . like from America's Next Top Model, season 3, but then you somehow got it into your thick melon that you should instead be intently watching the night sky for any signs of an asteroid (or is it a meteor?), juuuuust in case your skills in late-night, naked-eye civilian astronomy might just be the deciding factor in whether or not humanity existed for another 10,000 years or went up in a fiery explosion so epic that even the coolest guys would be compelled to look at it, you know, if they weren't so busy being burned to a crisp by it.
