Friday, 18 January 2013

To Mars And Beyond

My good friend Wetsoks sent a link to me today. I clicked with some caution, because previous experience has taught me that links my friends send are often not safe for work, not safe for lunch, not safe for otters, and occasionally all of the above. It was to my delight and slight bafflement that I discovered it was a link to the Mars One astronaut application process - see here

Me: I actually kind of want to check this out.

Wetsoks: I know, right? The future is now.

Me: "No plans to return the pioneers to Earth" though. No more McDonald's for you, brah. No more Mass Effect. Limited coffee. I'm just saying.

Wetsoks: Yes but we will be beaming people there in 20 years anyway.

Me: No. No, we won't. Sciencefact: no one is getting beamed except your mum.

Wetsoks: I wanna beam YOUR mum.

Me: Sounds like a Blink 182 song.

Wetsoks: I'm going to Mars! All I need is a can do attitude.

Me: I think they're looking for a little more than that. Plus, you know, 8 years of astronaut training.

Wetsoks: I looked at the requirements. I can do them all. Wait, let me do my John Locke impression. DON'T TELL ME WHAT I CAN'T DO!

Me: You don't even like people! Or change! Moving to a different planet with three strangers encapsulates two of the things you hate most in the world!

Wetsoks: Yes but I'd have the whole planet to get away from them.

Me: (pinching nose) I... I don't think that's how it works. Anyway, this is like me announcing I'm going to join the army. I technically COULD but I don't like running or mud or obeying authority. And you'd all laugh at me. Do you see where I'm going with this?

Wetsoks: Do you see where I'm going? TO MARS.

Me: (*sigh*) Very well.

There was a brief pause.

Wetsoks: What do you reckon the wifi is like up there? Like... three bars? Two?

Me:....Goddamn it.

Wednesday, 2 January 2013

In Case Of Bear Attacks

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you, otterlings! I apologise for my long absence. The tail end of 2012 was a busy time in many ways, and required my full attention. I will endeavour to make this up to you with a brand new post, partly courtesy of my temporary new flatmates (one of whom in Canadian, because I miss the Fleetch and if I close my eyes it almost sounds like she's back).

Canada: In our physical education classes in Canadian schools, we get taught how to ward off bears. You know, like for school trips and stuff.

Me: (intrigued) Really? How?

Canada: (demonstrating) You're supposed to hold your canoe paddle above your head and shout WOAH BEAR.

Me: (mimicking) WOAH BEAR! And does that work?

Canada: Well... it makes you look bigger, I guess.

Me: I'm actually disappointed that Scotland has no indigenous large predators on which I could test this.

Canada: That's a... shame?

Me: (thoughtfully) I could always use it to fend off sexual predators! In fact, I demand that we immediately introduce this into our group of friends as a helpful alternative to the current code, which mostly involves making panicked eye contact with someone and hoping that they telepathically hear your SOS call.

Canada: Um?


When I was cleaning the flat in preparation for said new flatmates, I realised I'd lost one of my awesome Harry Potter coasters. In truth I'd vaguely acknowledged that it was missing some time ago, but hadn't yet done anything about it. One friend questioned me on this.

Alana: So where is it?

Me: (vaguely) I think the cat took it.

Alana: (pinching her nose) The cat took.... Okay. And did you search for it?

Me: Yes.

Alana: Did you really?

Me: It depends what you mean by 'search'. If you mean, did I gaze upon all the visible surfaces including those parts of the carpet I can see without bending then yes, I 'searched' for it.

Alana: I see. It's probably under the couch, you know.

Me: That seems like a lot of effort. WOAH BEAR!

Alana: What?!

Me: Nothing. I'll send out a memo.