As you read this I am huddled inside of a fire-breathing octopus while a dust storm rages. I drink beer out of a space rocket. I have already begun to envy the alien inside, hermetically sealed against the powder clay in his plastic egg. Someday, when I am rich, I will trade my plush NASA helmet for a real one, with climate control and a respirator.
Tonight, I will drink Baileys from a shoe.
Tomorrow I will make my own loincloth.
I will be beaten by gladiators with NERF axes and swords.
I will buy a soulmate at Costco.
I will customize a flamingo.
I will go to every camp having anything to do with space; Gravity, Celestial Bodies, Moon Cheese.
I will go Down The Rabbit Hole.
I will make smoothies in the desert.
I will do some or all or none of these things. Next week, we will see which of my predictions have come true.
If you see my name blinking pink in the darkness, shout it.