Hey Space! Look at this huge silver tray full of bacon and that gigantic pot of hot coffee- what a beautiful sight! It’s nice to see you too Space, but for as awesome as you are, you really can’t compete with bacon. Who can? So anyway, how are you doing, Space? What would you like to discuss this morning, Space? I’m a little spaced-out, so I’ll give you some space to talk about whatever you want. Anything in particular come to mind?
Good morning, Haycomet. I’m great, thank you. Well, I’ve been thinking about that, and I think I’d like to ask you a few questions about something very dear to me, and that I someday hope to make near to me. Space Travel! Yes, I went there. I capitalized both words. Because Space Travel – from what I hear – is awesome. Well, not really. The traveling through space part of Space Travel is probably very boring and very slow.
So do you ever spend any time thinking about Space Travel? Where would you go if you could just hop in your HayShip and take off? (See, I’d call mine my SpaceShip…)
I have thought about it maybe at a surface level. I haven’t thought about it in deep detail like I know you have. Maybe I am a little put off by the thought of space travel because of my first grade teacher. She walked into class one morning, and told us to put on our coats and grab our belongings because we were going to take a wonderful trip. She was very enthusiastic and even had another teacher standing next to her that nodded and seemed to support what was said next… “We’re all going to get on a spaceship and go to space!!!” All of the students were so excited, including me. I was shocked, but I was ready to go. We waited in line and started heading out the door, when the teacher shouted, “April Fools!”. Wait… what?!! My new dream of going into space had been built up and crushed in a matter of minutes. What a biotch!!
The only time I thought about space travel after that was when I watched movies about it. That was until the last three years or so when my stepmom took me on a tour of the Johnson Space Center. Getting to see the suit testing rooms, the mock-up of the International Space Station, and the LVR test site really made me want to work for NASA. I know I don’t qualify to be an astronaut, but to even just be a part of space exploration and travel at all would be awesome. I could be a tour guide at JSC and that would be great!
I probably wouldn’t go far in my HayShip. I would just like to go out far enough to be able to see the Earth. I would lean back in my big cushy space-chair, prop my feet up on the dash, and take it all in. How awesome would that be?! I would imagine it would be extremely relaxing and quiet. So Space, why aren’t you an astronaut? And where would you go in your SpaceShip?
Well, first of all I need to dispel a couple of rumors real quickly. Number one, no friends, I had nothing to do with the invention or production of Space Bags. And B, no, friends, Space was not named so after me. Having said that, I will tell you that I’m not a true SpaceMan only because I can’t pass the physical to be one. I have terrible eyesight and that kept me from being several things in my life: a pilot for the Air Force, a gynecologist, and the guy who writes that tiny shit on circuit boards. Plus, there is so much school involved in becoming an astronaut that – even with a Bacon Engineering and Moon Physics degree – I just simply don’t have the resume. But I’ve accepted all that and am very happy with my position here at SpaceBrew as the Director of Breast Appreciation.
This is some fine bacon, by the way. Did I ever tell you about the time I worked on a bacon farm? Another day.
I think if were to get the chance to just hop in my SpaceShip and go somewhere, I’d definitely want to check out Mars. Boring, I know, but my second novel was about a trip to Mars and I described some scenes on the surface about what it felt like to the characters to be there. I want to know how close I came.
Parking out by the moon and watching the Earth rise on the horizon would be pretty spectacular, indeed. From that distance you can’t see how ugly we’ve all become down here. But I’d also like to jet out to another galaxy and check out how dissimilar it really is. Can you imagine what the life forms would look like, were you to run into any? They probably wouldn’t be four-foot-tall gray dudes with huge almond eyes. What do you think of running into aliens that were clearly intelligent? What would you do, Haycomet?
I think that would be awesome. It could also be intimidating though. What if the females were very tall, had skin soft like cashmere, naturally gave off the “stripper scent”, had perfect double-D breasts on their fronts AND backs that produced something that tasted like beer and bacon at the same time, and could recall and recite every sports fact ever recorded? Oh, or even worse, what if they didn’t talk at all? Men would completely go for them! I mean dude, what Earth woman could compete with that? Those soft, smelly-good, quadro-boobed biotches would take over the world! I think I might have to wipe them out. Wait, on second thought, maybe I would hand them an empty pint glass and tell ’em to fill it up… repeatedly. Space, describe for me the type of alien you picture existing.
I like to think that whatever aliens I could think of wouldn’t even come close to what they’d really be like. I saw a show on Discovery Channel one time – I think it was called Alien World or Alien Planet or something – but it was incredible. They did a fantastic job of just thinking completely out of the box about what other intelligent lifeforms might look like. They don’t necessarily have to have two arms, two legs, two eyes, et cetera. One could really just go anywhere with his imagination and probably not be far from the truth. But in truth, I’ve not spent that much time thinking about what they might look like. I would like to think I could run into an alien chick that looked like the hot redhead on my lunchbox though. But ultimately, there has to be a method of Space Travel for us to ever get the chance to meet these aliens. Because I really don’t think they’re coming here. And it would have to be fast.
Yeah, my husband, Byronic and I talk about space and time travel a lot. We even discuss how warp speed or FTL (faster than light) travel would be “physically taxing”. That is a polite way of saying it would effing kill you. When I was a kid, I would watch Star Trek. The Enterprise would zoom all over the place and no one was ever microwaved to death. Yep, microwaved, that’s what would happen, because when a ship travels at 299,792,458 m/s, stray atoms of hydrogen go right through the ship and anyone in it. One thing that I had a misconception of though, is what it would be like flying through space. I actually learned from Space (notice the capital “s”) that while traveling in space, one would not see stars zipping past them. One also would not have to worry about steering the ship around stars. That’s dull.
I get bored on car rides that are longer than fifteen minutes, so I don’t think I could survive space travel. If someday there is a portal or something that can be established that I could just walk through and bam… I’m at the end of the universe, then I’ll consider traveling out there. I know where you would go in that case, but tell our fans about it.
Yes, you do know where I’d go. Well, this is assuming it really did exist. But I think someone, somewhere would get smart and build it if it didn’t. You guessed it, friends. Milliway’s. The restaurant at the end of the universe. For anyone who hasn’t read The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy trilogy, you really should. The second book in the five-book trilogy is called The Restaurant at the End of the Universe, and it’s largely about Milliway’s. Its location is not at the end up the universe as in a spatial location, but rather at the end of the existence of the universe – a place in time. So diners can buy a Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster, a nice meal, then sit back and watch the universe end. You had better believe I would be there. Hell, I’d have an account there, and would spend most Fridays hanging out there with my buddies. I dare say I think that would be the best benefit of even having legitimate Space Travel. Tell me you wouldn’t be all over that, Haycomet.
Of course I would go there! It sounds like my kind of place.
Heck yes it is. I also know you love your bacon pajamas and sleep. So if it took a long time to get there, you could just sleep your head off. Oh. One more thing. (I’m not going to touch on those smooth-skinned, tall, quadrabreasted alien chirps. That’s just too hot to get into.) I don’t like Star Trek. Never watched it. I don’t like how they have this FTL drive, but they never explain how they come up with all that anti-matter to power it. And there exists, as we all know, a severe anti-matter shortage in the universe. There isn’t any. All of it was annihilated within a few seconds of the Big Bang. So if you want to use it, you have to make it. Whole other topic. So what kind of drive would you have, if you don’t like the idea of being cooked like bacon? Describe your hyper-drive.
Hyper drives are better than inactive, boring drives; the drives that are on Ritalin do a horrible job at running all of the programs on my computer.
Ahem. Yeah. So, thanks for tuning in for another edition of Bacon Talk, friends. Just a quick spot of good news – after six weeks of straight Bacon Talk on the site, the entire fifth floor of our office building is beginning to smell strongly of bacon. We go home and our spouses are asking us if we had bacon today. On Thursdays, even. That’s seven days after the prior week’s Bacon Talk. So before we flood the entire SpaceBrew Enterprises building with the sweet smell of bacon – which does tend to finally start getting a little much, we’ve decided to construct an airlock chamber between the kitchen and the elevator bank. All right, have a good week, everyone.