Vain babbling

This morning while I was on the freeway I was picking my nose, really digging in there for about 2 minutes. I looked over and the girl in the next car was laughing at me. She gave me a thumbs up, because I always look good, even when I’m picking my nose.
Next, when I walked into the office, I found a rather large moth clinging to the wall. I poked it and called it’s name (moth, moth), but it was unresponsive. I cradled it in my palm and stroked it’s furry back, crooning softly and willing it to wake up. It finally stirred, either due to the heat from my hand or my spiritual bond with animals and insects, I can’t be sure which. My lepidopteratic friend began to flap its wings in anticipation of joyous flight into the morning as I murmured encouragement. At last, it burst from my palm and began to fly drunkenly in slowly tightening circles. I then realized that my fingers had destroyed the tiny scales on its wings, dooming it to forever crawl the earth, gazing into the sky and cursing the misguided good Samaritan who crippled it. I asked myself what Bear Grylls would do, and I knew immediately. With a heavy heart I plucked the poor creature from the sky, and ate it for breakfast.