Swimming in Space
by Patrickspens
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When I was a kid all I ever wanted to be was a lifeguard. I always watched Bay Watch, and they always looked so cool, saving people and stuff. I was like, "That's me!" But then I failed the test, and so now I have no choice but to be a stupid astronaut.
Every time I come back from a space mission, someone's like, "How was it up there?" And every time I give the same answer, "Boring!" Like, seriously, there's NOTHING: no beaches, no sharks, no waves, no diving into the water with one of those safety float things and paddling out while everyone watches from the shore and thinks, "Whoa, that guy's a hero." None of that.
Or here, to put it differently: you know that stop in the middle of nowhere on a long road trip when you go into the convenience store and all they have is Fruit-Punch Gatorade so you buy some even though it's your least favorite flavor and then choke it for the next 2 hours until eventually it's super warm and somehow even grosser than it was when you bought it? That's what space is like. Except there's no Gatorade.
And don't get me started on the Space Station. People always think it's going to be so this super rad hangout pad, but no way! Imagine a studio apartment designed by someone with the feng shui sense of a graphing calculator. That's the space station. It's like, would it kill you to put in some hardwood floors? It's not as sexy as a smartly-appointed lifeguard shack, that's for sure.
But anyway, that's all I have time to say right now. Apparently there's some space-rock thing hurtling towards the Earth and take a wild guess who they want to fly up there and rig it with explosives, so as to blow it up before it hits us and melts the ice caps or something. Hashtag back to the grind, amirite?!
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