He was still an adventurer, though, so two years later was exploring the depths of the deepest oceans on Earth when he was accidentally left behind.
There he was forced to grow seaweed and sea cucumbers and survive on oxygen he derived from shells and Bunsen burners.
Mark Whatney had become The Crustacean.
I won’t spoil that ending, either, but he did eventually return to space travel.
Venus: Whatney daringly visits the second planet in our solar system and his faceplate is briefly blown loose during an EVA. Yes, you guessed it. He becomes The Venetian Blinded.
His eyesight eventually returned and he went on to visit Uranus, but I have absolutely nothing to say about that trip.
Once upon a time I was in a serious quandary. I wanted some cheap, plastic, materialistic consumer shit made in China and I wanted it now. What to do, what to do?
As I saw it, there were two choices.
I could haul my fat ass up and out of my chair, somehow make it to the car, drive to a big-box store, somehow make it inside and navigate the maze to (hopefully) the right section where the object of my desire might be found. All the while being blasted by a tasty mix of songs scientifically designed to make me spend more money. (The mix is a rotation of two songs. Happy, by Pharrell Williams and anything by Mumford & Sons.)
I say “might” because I’ve tried this in the past and it didn’t quite work out. Ever go to the store to buy one specific thing? After expending incredible effort (see previous paragraph) you learn it isn’t even there. Out of stock. I do not believe there is a worse feeling in the entire universe.
And that other choice I mentioned earlier? Amazon. Duh.
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I was already full. Case in point: She was toting a box of leftovers but I was not. Mine had been crammed down my gullet. This scenario would soon allow me to put my advanced decision-making skills on display.
We walked into the shop and it was what I like to describe as “Portland cute.” The place was constructed to look post-industrial. This means concrete walls, vaulted ceilings with lots of duct work, lighting fixtures that hang all the way down from the ceiling and, of course, the pièce de résistance of the Portland eatery scene: the fake garage door. Those things are ubiquitous around here, perhaps even on par with the fedora and other trendy chapeaux.
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There are two great mysteries in the life that one must unravel before traveling to the Great Beyond. One is the nature of the Bermuda Triangle. The other is, of course, how gerbils cause household items to go missing from the space-time continuum.
Today we uncover a disturbing piece of evidence that goes a long way towards explaining what really happens. I took the following raw footage at great risk of life and limb.
If you’re not willing to invest one minute and 44 seconds of your precious existence in the following ode to cinema, then I guess you really do hate my guts.
Hang on tight and be prepared for the twist at the end. “I see gerbil people!!!”
Change of Address
I live on the surface of a rotating planetoid. The speed of rotation is approx. 1,000 miles per hour.
Meanwhile, the planet itself is moving about 67,000 miles per hour around the sun.
The sun is the center of our solar system, which is also moving around the center of our galaxy at approx. 490,000 miles per hour.
The galaxy is moving towards something called the Great Attractor, appox. 150 million light years away, at a rate of 1,000 kilometers per second.
In other words, I just want it to be known my physical location on this planetoid is changing by about 2.5 degrees of latitude. That’s a lot!
A pending move means boxes. Packing lots and lots of boxes.
The more you pack the more exhausted you get.
The more exhausted you get the more you require peaceful, restful sleep.
The more you require sleep the more the more you lie in bed with your eyes open.
Can’t sleep. Might as well get up and pack some more boxes and make myself more tired.