So grab the nearest book.
Find page 45.
The first sentence describes your sex life for the next twelve months:
“Behind the balusters of the forecastle a large number of soldiers, who were laying in wait there under a petty officer full of malice, were preparing to send us a murderous discharge from their muskets.”
Says it all really.
This is a bit of “How Half-Arse became Captain” from Memoirs of a Buccaneer by Louis le Golif. On the one hand it means I got a scary result in the meme – I’m wondering if penicillin would cure that ‘murderous discharge’, but on the other how cool is it that even at work, by absolute chance, the nearest book is about a guy called Half-Arse with a matelot called Pulverin?