Astronut

I’ve always thought I’d like to be an astronaut. Can you imagine the thrill of having an exploding building strapped to your ass as you hurdle skyward towards infinity? Of course, the weightlessness part is a bit concerting… I assume astronauts get to sleep at some point and I don’t know what I’d do with my dentures. Certainly a glass of water sitting on my NASA bedside table wouldn’t work, so chances are one of my comrades would be fetching my teeth out of mid-air before my sleep period ended.

But what a view… especially at night! (Think about it, I’ll stop for a few seconds to allow you to catch up… I know it’s lame, but what the hell, it’s worth a shot. You try writing comedy some time—trust me when I tell you it’s brutal. I can’t even imagine how difficult it would be if I actually gave a damn what people think.)

I’m sorry, my train of thought is currently derailed, an eventuality all too common in my life. What’s worse, I’m apologizing to people who neither purchase nor invest much by way of time allotment to my writing. How pathetic is that? Damn…