Joke

This morning we ran into a hen strutting around like she was the mayor of the coop.

We go, “Hey boss, what’s with the blue eggs? You slap an Instagram filter on them or what?” And she goes, “No filter. That’s genetics and swagger, darling.” We go, “And that afro hairdo you’re rocking?” She goes, “Easy. Sleep well, and don’t hang out with beige-egg hens who get jealous.”

Magikito moral: if someone gives you a weird look today for being “different”, pull your mayor-hen face and keep laying your eggs whatever colour you feel like.

The other day a roe deer showed up with a tiny whistle and a stopwatch made out of dried pine cones.

We go, “Oi, mate, what are you doing, setting up a workout in the middle of the woods?”. And he goes, “I’m training humans: I watch you run for two days, but on the third you turn into a sleepy croquette with legs.” We say, “Yeah but we’re just chasing free endorphins.” And he goes, “Your ancestors hunted on pure patience. They didn’t go all out in the first kilometre, and they didn’t haul forty flashy tech bits just to brag about their pace.”

Magikito moral: if you go for a run today, don’t drag forty gadgets to measure your pace. Just enjoy it and that’s it!

This morning we spotted a frog wearing acorn-shell glasses, perched on a lily pad and reading a book.

We go: “Whatcha reading, love?” And she goes: “Latin. I’m not just any old frog, you know. I come with a certified label of origin.” We’re like: “Alright, alright… so why do you make those weird noises then?” And she gives us this proper serious look: “Weird noises? Mate, the weird noises are yours. You spend all day listening to reggaeton.”

Magikito moral: if someone slaps a silly label on you, don’t go picking a massive fight. Breathe, and flip the whole thing around.

In a little forest puddle, we spotted a seahorse clinging to a tiny twig, stiff as a board and looking properly worried.

We go, “Mate… aren’t you meant to be in the sea?” And he goes, “Yeah, but I followed a good-vibes current and somehow ended up in Taramundi.” We point at his curly tail, “And that tail, looking well fancy?” And he says, “That’s because I’m a horse who’s seriously into being all wound up.”

Magikita moral: hanging on to everything isn’t safety, it’s tiredness with a rope. Today, hold tight to what matters and let the rest go, even if it’s just a little knot.

This morning we ran into the Vagus Nerve sitting on a rock, looking like a tired civil servant, with a tiny referee whistle.

We go: “Hey mate, you’re the one who makes people drop like a sack of potatoes, right?” And he goes: “Sack of potatoes? Excuse me. I only do preventive shutdowns. Like a laptop when it overheats.” We say: “Well give us a heads-up on WhatsApp, yeah?” And he’s like: “I do. A bit of sweat, a little dizzy spell, tunnel vision… but you lot play tough and stay upright like streetlights.”

Magikito moral: if your body whispers ‘sit down now’, don’t answer ‘later’. The Vagus isn’t mean, he’s just an electrician in a hurry.

Down by the riverbank we spotted a cork in a beret, floating past all fancy and proud.

We go, “Oi mate, you float just because you don’t weigh a thing, yeah?” And it goes, “Nahhh, I float because I’m training to become a duck.”

Magikito moral: if something feels heavy today, don’t bash yourself. Listen to a couple of jokes and let it slide.

This morning a mega sun-beam smacked us right on the nose, full power, like a theatre spotlight wearing a hi-vis vest.

So we go: “Hey, are you that famous free vitamin?” And it goes: “Free, yeah, but with office hours, okay? Then you lot stay out for four hours, turn red as a pepper, and suddenly I’m the bad guy”.

Magikito moral: the truly good stuff usually doesn’t come at full blast, it comes in little bites. Today grab your dose of sun, fruit, rest, or laughter… just don’t toast your whole life.

Yesterday we found a tube of toothpaste crying in a little corner of the bathroom.

We go, “What happened to you, dude?”. And it goes, “They squeezed me right in the middle, like I’m some accordion with emotional damage”. We’re like, “Okay, okay, it can’t be that bad…”. And the tube says, “Not that bad? I’ve got existential wrinkles now, my little butt is still full, and my mouth is completely empty”.

Magikito moral: don’t squeeze your day in the middle, or it’ll end up all wonky like a churro. Go step by step, keep some order, and hold on to the cap just in case… because it’s the tiny leaks that turn into full-on drama later.

We stuck our little hand in the fridge to grab a yogurt and heard a “pssst” from the fruit drawer: a shivery strawberry, rocking a cling-film scarf.

We go, “What’s up, cutie, why the panic face?” And she whispers, “Because Sir Mold has arrived… creeping in from the corners, dead silent, like he owns the fridge.” We tell her, “Then tell him we run things around here.” And the strawberry goes, “Yeah, yeah… but I’m scared, this one’s not here to chat, he’s here to spread.”

Magikito moral: what grows quietly usually does it because nobody’s watching. Today, if something gives you a weird vibe, open the door and check before that “pssst” turns into “BAM!”.

In an old forest log we spotted a crumb with legs… and it turned out to be a tardigrade with a bib and that “tonight we eat BIG” stare.

We go, “Why are you standing there all stiff, you tiny legend?” And it goes, “Waiting for my mortadella sarnie.” We say, “Mate, for you that’s like us trying to eat a whole airplane.” And it goes, “So what? I’m a tardigrade, not a tardi-coward.” We offer, “Want us to cut it into nano-slices?” And it’s like, “Nah, nah… you lot chill, I’ll smash this in half a day.”

Magikito moral: never underestimate the teeny-tiny… sometimes what it lacks in size, it makes up for with an appetite that leaves you fully shook.

This morning we bumped into a yeast with a chubby little belly and a pizza-delivery cap.

We go, “Girl, what have you been eating, you’re about to pop?”. And she goes, “Sugar, what else? I gobble it up and then I go around doing tiny gassy toots packed with CO₂”. We go, “How classy”. And she goes, “Classy my sparkles, this is compadre style, because thanks to my gases your bread turns fluffy and your pizza comes out with a crust that’ll blow your mind”. We ask, “Aren’t you a bit embarrassed?”. And she goes, “You know what’s actually embarrassing? Bad bread”.

Magikito moral: some gases are pure drama… and others are pure progress. If something inside you is “puffing up” today, maybe it’s trying to grow.

This morning we found the “My Documents” folder crying behind a corner.

We ask: “What’s up, mate, running out of space for more files?”. And it goes: “More files? You’re using me like a junk closet! You’ve got 300 screenshots of a recipe you’re never going to cook, 14 PDFs of books you’re not going to read, and that blurry photo of a receipt from 2021.” We go: “It just feels wrong to delete stuff…”. And it says: “Well it feels wrong for me to live with this much digital trash in my stomach, I’m starting to feel like a drawer full of tangled cables with anxiety.”

Magikito moral: if even your documents folder is overwhelmed, maybe it’s not a lack of space… maybe we’ve honestly gone a bit too far. Delete one tiny thing today, even if it’s just out of respect for your own chaos.

We were walking a little trail in Taramundi when we spotted a thermometer propped on a stone, wearing a tiny scarf and looking deeply offended.

We say: “But what are you doing all wrapped up if you’re the one who measures the cold, mate?” And it goes: “I measure it, yes… but I also suffer it. I’m sensitive on every scale.” Just then an ice cream strolls by, cool as anything. The thermometer yells: “You’re dropping my degrees on purpose!” And the ice cream: “Sorry, pal, I’m happiness… yours is control.” We tell the thermometer: “What if today you don’t measure everything?” And it answers: “Fine… but don’t put it near your tongue, okay?”

Magikito moral: measuring is useful, but obsessing is like eating an ice cream in January without a coat. Enjoy it… but with a little care.

We snuck into an apple orchard and this little apple plopped down right in front of us, like it was trying to act all cool.

We go, “You again? Since the whole Newton thing, you lot think you’re the queens of drama.” And it goes, “Excuse me, okay? I don’t fall because I feel like it, I fall because of gravity.” We go, “Well you could fall up then, babe.” And it goes, “Fine, tomorrow I’ll fall up, cuties.”

Magikito moral: sometimes what falls isn’t trying to mess with you, sometimes it’s just showing up to have a laugh with you.

We were in a corner of the forest, shaking out a blanket, when a teeny dust mite tumbled down with a face that said “I’ve read too much”.

We go, “You’re one of those that lives in dust, right?” And it goes, “No, mate… I live in meaning. Am I a being… or am I just a consequence of your dead skin?” We say, “You’re both, pal.” And it goes, “And what if you vacuum me up?” We tell it, “Then you reincarnate in the vacuum bag, there’s a whole community in there.” And it finishes, “Ugh. Domestic capitalism.”

Magikito moral: even a dust mite spirals about its identity. If today you feel like “just another speck”, remember that a home is made from imperfections that pile up, not from filters.

We were chilling, having a proper chat next to an oak tree. But nearby Tito Hipo was smacking a stick against a rock, and right beside him Don Bostezo was scratching his belly.

We tell him, “Hipo, mate, can you stop already?”. And he goes, “No chance, I don’t stop for anything. I jump in and interrupt with style, that’s literally my job”. We got a bit thrown off and asked Don Bostezo if that seemed normal to him. But he just goes, “Uuuuh... let him do whatever, I’m sooooo not bothered, duuudes....”.

Magikito moral: when your body throws you a sudden stop, it’s not trying to annoy you, it’s trying to get you breathing like a person again, not like a rushed coffee machine.

On a little trail in Taramundi, a banana slipped out of our backpack and rolled straight into a very serious mushroom with a perfectly shaped cap.

We tell the banana, “Sorry, mate, they say we share like 50%.” And the banana goes, “50? Excuse me, I’m bringing the potassium attitude, alright?” The mushroom clears its throat and drops, “With us, you share 90%, sweetheart.” We go, “Yeah, but you don’t come in a lunchbox.” And the mushroom: “No, I come in a network. I wire up the whole forest and on top of that you lot eat me for dinner.” The banana, a bit salty: “Fine, but I can make you smile in two bites.”

Magikito moral: in life there’s always someone flexing a percentage. You stick with whoever feeds you, connects you, or makes you laugh, even if they come in slippery fruit format.

In a clearing in the woods, we spot a seashell perched on a rock, staring at us like it took the cable car up.

We go, “Wait… what are you doing up here, bestie, you’re literally a beach creature?” And the shell goes, “I came to breathe some fresh air, down on the coast there’s way too much sand and way too many ‘well, actually’ dudes.” (Classic Shells Up High energy.) Then a clam shows up with full-on teacher face and drops, “That’s not fresh air, that’s plate tectonics, you clueless lot.” We’re like, “Okay, okay… and why do you talk so much?” And the clam goes, “Because if I’m not opening up, at least I’m explaining myself.”

Magikito moral: some creatures open up and some creatures just keep talking, but the important thing is not getting buried in the drama. Today, if you can’t handle it all, at least have a laugh and mop up the sauce with bread, no fear.

On a little trail in Taramundi, a muddy puddle popped up and stared at us, seriously locked in.

We go, “Hey, what are you looking at like that, with that innocent little face?” And the mud goes, “I’m waiting for your feet… but no middlemen, ok? None of that rubber sole with an attitude.” We say, “It’s just we’re wearing brand new trainers, mate.” And the mud goes, “Sure, sure… then you complain you’re stressed while you walk around with your toes shoved into a funnel.” We ask, “So what do you suggest?” And it goes, “One barefoot step and a laugh. If it stains, it heals the drama.”

Magikito moral: sometimes the day doesn’t need you spotless, it needs you present. And if you’ve got to get a tiny bit messy, let it be for living, not for posing.

In a little clearing in the woods, we spotted a bee posing on a flower like she was waiting for someone

We go, “Yo, that jacket is next level, you here to pollinate the situation?” And she goes, “Ahem… I’m here for whatever happens.” We lean in and point it out, “But you… aren’t you a bit more snatched at the waist, and kinda look like a little troublemaker?” And she answers, “Shhh! I’m in aesthetic bee mode. Flowers can’t tell, dude.” We say, “Maybe flowers can’t, but we can: you’re a wasp.” And she’s like, “Okay, but admit it: the stripes look insane on me.”

Magikito moral: not everything with stripes comes with honey. If something stings your day, don’t call it ‘personality’, call it by its name… and step away with style.

Up in a chestnut tree in Taramundi, we caught a squirrel with an acorn pressed to her ear, like one of those old-school phones.

We go, “What are you doing, girl, calling the Forest Tech Support?” And she goes, “I’m trying to talk to my cousin… but out here I’ve only got two bars.”

Magikito moral: when the signal drops, it’s not always the universe punishing you… maybe life is saying “slow down too, and climb the tree for the joy of it, not for the coverage”.

We were in a cave under the forests of Taramundi and this blue cheese popped out, with the face of a misunderstood artist.

We go, “Yo, mate, what’s with those blue spots? Did you get into a fight with a pen?” And it hits us with, “Nah, my guy, I’m an edible abstract masterpiece.” We ask, “And it doesn’t weird you out, smelling that strong?” And it goes, “Honestly, if you don’t smell a little… nobody remembers you.”

Magikita moral: you don’t have to be perfectly perfumed. Sometimes a tiny, well-placed hit of intensity is exactly what gives you personality.

We were putting together a little bonfire when suddenly the flame started busting moves like it was at a party.

We go, “Hey, can you stay still for a sec? We’re trying to warm up the soup.” And it goes, “Still? Nah, pals. If I don’t wiggle, I get chilly.”

Magikito moral: even fire has needs, so give it room to glow. If you don’t, it’ll end up scorching your toast.

We were wandering through the woods, eyes on the ground, and suddenly a mushroom popped up with its little cap looking flawless.

It goes: “Can you snap me a pic from down low? That way I look taller and, like… more mycelium-y”.

We told it: “Sure, but don’t try to sell us a self-love course afterwards”.

Moral: careful, some mushrooms are full-on posing too, so don’t believe everything you see.