Vague Insanty 093

Midnight on the planet Mars and all is quiet and well. Perhaps one day something will happen, on the red, dead, strange little clump of rock and dust. For now though, I just stand guard in the freezing cold, waiting, thinking, and quite possibly evolving into some strange psychic lichen eating weirdo, especially adapted for a low gravity, high tedium environment.

The whirlwinds spin and the global dust storm approaches, there's no actual hope that my mail shipment will arrive, and all possibility that my strange taste in pornography will be outlawed by The Wizened Council of Those Who Know Better than You.

I hate TWCOTWKBTY. They've got a totally shitty acronym.

And so I sing to myself, safe in the protective shielding that allows me to survive and thrive in this hostile world and even, if I'm lucky, perform mediocre card tricks and tell strange, possibly deeply unfunny, jokes about monkeys.

This is why human beings arose from the swamps.

This is achievement.

This is glory.

I'd really like an apple and a plate of Chicken Tikka now please.