Implosion - Not Just for Astronauts Anymore
Monday, August 18, 2008
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About Me
- Janiece
- I am a Hot Chick living in Parker, CO with my fabulous family. We're currently without a dog since we lost our beloved Boogie the Giant Schnauzer. I'm a U.S. Navy vet, and I currently work as a Principal Systems Engineer in the Military Industrial Complex, specializing in VoIP and Next Generation 9-1-1 technologies. I care about science, the U.S. Constitution and the military. I'm a tax and spend liberal in a largely red county, but I try not to be stabby about it. I travel A LOT, I aspire to run faster than I do, and I donate knitted cold weather gear to various charities. Stupidity, cupidity and wanton assholery piss me off, and I'm more than a little soft when it comes to dogs and those who serve others. I blog about whatever I feel like. I use foul language, so if that sort of thing offends you, feel free to fuck off now - if I'm unwilling to clean up my language for my fabulous Great Auntie Margie, I'm unlikely to do so for you. Newcomers are welcome here, especially those who disagree with me, but trolling and spamming will be met with the Shovel of Doom™.
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9 comments:
I'm good for 48 seconds. That ought to be enough time for one last cigarette.
And the first person to tell me I can't get a match lit gets the gas grill of retribution.
They're special space matches.
They're special space matches.
::snort::
60 seconds.
Stupid Asthma.
One minute twenty nine?
And i am a smoker???
Hey Nathan, pass me one of those SPECIAL space matches.
I'm good for 1 minute and 23 seconds, even with asthma.
Woot!
Damn it, Nathan, who gave you the special space matches? Those were still supposed to be underwraps! Someone's got some 'splainin' to do...
1:29 - Ha! I'll outlive you all, my pretties. Those extra inches are good for something, doggone it, if I ever take up space travel.
One minute, twenty-nine seconds. I like the odds better than my odds against gorillas.
After all, I'll have a chance of 2^276709:1 of bring rescued by a passing starship every thirty seconds; the way I figure it, I get three rolls of the die right there.
(Dammit... that should have read "of being rescued..." stupid QWERTY keyboard. William Qwerty was the biggest asshole in history--just had to have his name on something, and just happened to invent the manual typewriter--you'd think he'd have been happy to put his name on the spacebar and call it a "qwertybar," but the stupid dyslexic asshole had to have it right there in the keys. Jerk.)
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