Friday, September 23, 2011

Gimme Chunk of Space Junk

Please Karma, if the dead satellite doesn't come through the atmosphere, burn, and break up into several hundred pieces that take out NASA itself, as would be fair, karma, then let a piece drop at my feet in my driveway.

I'll hose the chunk down, take a video for youtube (me smiling standing proudly with still smoking space junk, or cooking an egg on it, which would be hysterical), then sell it on ebay or amazon and take a long needed vacation with my profits.

Karma, I really really need a vacation.

Please drop the space junk at my feet, but don't hit my feet. I like my feet. Karma, aim well, don't drink and aim, karma, remember, no way.

But if you see fit, Karma, if that space junk is going to crash, let it crash at my feet (but remember, don't hit my feet. That would hurt.) Otherwise, if you can't do that, just take out NASA if its coming down to take out anybody because they put it up there and didn't plan a way for it come down safely. That's not very bright for engineers and astronauts, to forget that. Boy.

Update: So I'm sitting in my garage a few minutes ago and I hear this distant kind of wind roar.

"Holy shit," I think to myself, "it's probably the damn satellite coming down."

Then I think of something else far more pleasant. But for a minute there, before that distant strange wind roar ended, I thought, "Well, this is it. Damn that NASA anyhow.

They never even went to MARS, just dorked around with satellites and space stations and earth orbits, junking up space. Lame, if you ask me, although the Mars Rover, now that was spectacular."

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