Radiation Plantationby Winston C. Mars ![]() October 13, 2003 "Radiation Plantation,"
I spoke the information. "Scott?" Scott blew snot on a pink carnation. "Ready the gammaram, and prepare for floatation." "Aye aye, captain," he replied as he spied a crustacean. So at last we'd found it, in the deepest of space! This holiest of grails, the prey in our chase… Who'd have believed it! Real, and true? Nobody! But you were all wrong! And screw you! Pausing to blink in the thick radiation, I surveyed the scene with a keen adulation. The orange peaks protruding from a backdrop so drab— "Scott, now goddammit! Don't kick that space crab!" Christ! On the cusp of a discovery so vast it would make the wheel itself seem half-assed, I was cursed with a first mate so wantonly inept that I put down my somascope and wantonly wept! No good! No use! Might as well pack it in! My half-life had been wasted, chucked in the waste bin. Twenty long years been spent in pursuit… Now the ass of my dreams was being kicked with a boot! The free energy here could boggle the brain, with atomic atoms and radiant rain. It could power a nation and make a man rich. "Scott, stop rolling around in that space ditch!" It's useless, it's hopeless! It's patently absurd! There he is throwing rocks at a space bird! A competent crewman would be my salvation. Oh, I picked the wrong weekend to ask for visitation! "What is it now Scott? Can't you see I'm distraught? With no way to prove that I was here or not? The mission's a failure, no one will believe that I ever found this place. Now let's us just leave!" "You found me a present, well yippie and woo-hoo. Wait, this is the space shell of a radiant shrew! It's only found here… our failure undone! Oh what a genius I have for a son!" Quote of the Day“My love is like a red, red wiiiine… go to my heaaaad… make me forgeeet… Wait. Sorry. My love is like a red, red rose… just like eeeeevery night has its daaaaaw- awawaaaan… Just like eeeevery cooowboy… Fuck.”-A.D.Dobbs Fortune 500 CookieClowns don't hate you, they just feel sorry for you. Your "Don't Worry, Be Slappy" series of self-help books finally broke the five-copy sales barrier this week, and just got you sued by the estate of Slappy White. This week's lucky strikes: Clover-Workers' Union, ump didn't see ball careen off batter's jock and through strike zone, killed them all while they were dreaming about killing you, threw your ex-wife's severed head down lane on accident.Try again later. Top 5 commune Features This Week
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