The other night, at two in the morning:

Me: Did you hear that there's supposed to be an apocalypse in 2012?

Nora: Yeah. That's some Y2K bullshit. Here's what's really gonna happen. In six hundred years, the world will be over. Then everyone will file off to a space station on the moon the size of California. 

Me: Oh, really?

Nora: Good night.