Looks like it’s happening folks. Soon we’ll be up there beyond the clouds. Zero gravity. Endless possibilities. Eating freeze-dried ice cream. Running on treadmills. Pissing into tubes, filtering it, and then drinking it forever and ever. Pooping into ass-sucking vacuum chutes that will launch our shit into outer space, where it will eventually grow into a giant meteor and collide with some distant planet, making a giant dookie crater and causing mass extinction. Get hype, fam.
Following the launch of SpaceX’s Falcon9 last week, Elon Musk told reporters “I expect to establish our first Mars colony by the year 2026. We’re going to go up there and terraform some shit and live in some sci-fi glass domes and wear tight ass matching jumpsuits. It will be the beginning of a future spacefaring civilization. I will be King and each citizen will be in a constant state of exploration, charged with bringing me treasures from neighboring planets and stars. If I do not deem their offerings worthy, they will be beheaded and their bodies shot into the sun while their heads adorn the hoods of our Tesla Rovers.”
Daniel Winnfield-Puckett, a professor of aerospace engineering at Stanford, said in a piece titled “Elon Musk: Space Douche” that five years is not a feasible time frame and that the biggest issue is the economic viability of a colony on Mars, which has no physical commodities worth exporting. No offense, but Winnfield-Puckett sounds like a little fuckboy that don’t have that Musk Money. Dude is jelly-as-fuck. Suck a dick, Dan. We going to space.
I’ve already signed up on the SpaceX website to be on the first Starship to the Red Planet. Beam me up, Elon. First things first, we’re gonna have to get that atmosphere dummy thicc with oxygene so we can play Blood Sphere on the surface. Blood Sphere is a fucking cool new space sport that I made up - everybody is going to love it. Basically, there are two teams that fly around on jet propulsion sticks and hit balls with laser sticks and also try to catch the flying blood sphere. IT’S NOT LIKE QUIDDITCH. I’m so sick of hearing people (who obviously know nothing about sci-fi) say that it sounds alot like Quidditch. IT’S NOTHING LIKE IT OKAY?! We’re colonizing Mars not pretending to be little privileged boarding school bitch magicians.
I’m going to become a level-5 StarSearcher in Elon’s army and discover some cool shit like a planet with no Mormons or a sweet ass moon that looks like Shirley MacLaine. I’m going to capture and bring back creatures so fucked up that Elon won’t know whether to shit his pants in fear or fuck my mouth in excitement. I’m talking real-life Monstars, kid. Ones that look weird as shit, but are still very good at sports like basketball and Blood Sphere. Maybe discover a space bug that wears a super cool overcoat and smokes cigs. Yeah, it won’t be too long and I’ll be promoted to Musk Man and be in charge of securing alien trim for Elon. See, my mans isn’t just up there for the fun of it. He wants to spread his ropey seed all over the galaxy and I’m here to make sure that’s exactly what he does. And my guy doesn’t just want to stick his crooked veiny dick inside any ol’ hole in the cosmos. We’re talking only the finest grade-A, premium cut moontang. Elon won’t get it up for anything less than a VA-VOOM figured space thot with six big, scaly, purple tiddies and no bush. Only those he trusts implicitly are allowed to procure and sample the goods. Meaning? That’s right. Your boy gets to blast off too and probably lose his virginity to some hot intergalactic bounty hunter who looks like my third grade teacher, Ms. Shaw, but with way more tiddies and no bush.
Yeah. Everything’s going to turn around for me when I get to space.