Happy Space Day! I'm not an astronaut, but I might be a space cadet. My favorite space who-are. To be honest, space travel and life seems terrible. It's a big difference of opinion for me and my husband. We watched The Expanse. He wants ride around space and be the ship mechanic, but the whole scenario is pretty close to nightmare fuel for me. What camp are you in? Feet on earth or life in space? Happy Friday y'all. I'm frying up tofu for a chickpea and tofu korma. It's gonna be goooood.
I mean, assuming life on Earth isn't a Mad Max-style wasteland because humanity has fucked up the environment, then feet on Earth for sure. It's beautiful here, and I think it's very likely that alien poontang is a lot less "hot humanoid with oddly colored skin and interesting eyes" and a lot more "formless writhing mass of worm-like protuberances."
On Earth we have a saying, "don't stick your dick in crazy." In space they have a saying, "don't stick your dick in a formless writhing mass of worm-like protuberances." It doesn't roll off the tongue as easily but it's still good advice.
I think it's more a colloquialism than strictly literal. After all, crazy could still own a strap-on.
I like to go by Lovecraft’s philosophy on space: we do not know what’s out there AT ALL, and it is such a vast void. “Alien life” could come in the form of anything, including psychedelic cosmic horrors that could be far beyond anything our frail minds can handle if we were confronted by them. I’m happy with living on this utterly unstable rock— that we can only live on a very small portion of— for only certain times of the year. We are the monsters here.
I like the idea of going to space conceptually, but space is so unimaginably huge there really is very little to see, and it can take years or millennia to get anywhere interesting . I’ll stay on earth with the sun, green vegetation and flowing water.
This is basically my feelings in the matter. I like my rock for this little blip of time I'll be alive and cognizant. I'm sitting at the community spring bazaar. I have a ton of horrible gas trapped under my ribs. Ughhhh.
I've been doing PT for my back again. Misread that in my head as "shit backed ho". Like geeze tell me what you really think.
That’s only for garage night. Speaking of shitting in holes- the first house my family lived in was a converted cabin out in the sticks. Some of the other homes were similar, especially the ones around the lake down the road. And a bunch of them still had outhouses. We used to poke around those lake properties during the off season, and were fascinated by the concept of outhouses ( we actually had indoor plumbing). Which is how my first ever glimpse of porn, and naked boobies, was playboy pictures tacked up on an outhouse wall.