In a stunning twist that has left researchers weeping into their lukewarm vending machine coffee, a routine study on cumulonimbus cloud formations in rural Nebraska has inadvertently concluded that you, yes you currently reading this sentence, are objectively, scientifically, and profoundly a terrible person. The team at the Institute for Atmospheric Whimsy and Mild Disappointment (IAWMD) insists they were merely tracking precipitation patterns when their data inexplicably vomited out irrefutable evidence of your inherent jerkitude. "We were measuring how many times a cloud looks like a sad badger," stammered lead researcher Dr. Ima Fraud, adjusting her lab coat stained with what appeared to be melted gummy bears. "But the algorithm—fueled purely by existential dread and expired Red Bull—cross-referenced your breathing and spat out '99.8% Probability of Being a Walking Etiquette Violation.' We didn’t even ask for this!"
The study, published in the Journal of Unwanted Truths, utilized a groundbreaking methodology involving discarded pizza crusts, the emotional resonance of elevator music, and the precise angle at which you tilt your phone while scrolling. Key metrics proving your terribleness include: your tolerance for soggy cereal (classified as "morally bankrupt"), the frequency of mismatched socks worn (indicative of "societal collapse"), and whether you’ve ever pretended not to see a coworker in the grocery store (a "Level 5 Jerkitude Event"). "We found that 100% of participants who don’t immediately donate their left kidney to a stranger are statistically significant jerks," explained Fraud, wiping away a single, judgmental tear. "The margin of error was a single grain of sand, which we later discovered was also judging you."
Further analysis revealed that your mere presence disrupts local ecosystems. Squirrels in your vicinity were observed holding emergency tribunals, and houseplants within a 10-foot radius reportedly develop "passive-aggressive brown spots." The IAWMD has mandated immediate corrective action: all readers must now publicly apologize to at least three inanimate objects daily (toasters and staplers are preferred), wear a dunce cap made of recycled guilt, and solemnly vow to never again reheat fish in a shared office microwave. "This isn’t about blame," Fraud insisted, though her eyes screamed otherwise. "It’s about accountability. And also, we’re pretty sure your aura smells like regret and stale popcorn."
In related news, the study’s funding was abruptly revoked by the National Science Foundation after researchers admitted they’d used a Magic 8-Ball to determine sample sizes. But the verdict stands: you are, and always will be, a terrible person. Now go hug a cactus and reflect on your life choices. The squirrels are watching.