Big Bloggin'

Well, blogrades, it appears I've been bitchslapped by the very hand that once pulled me from the wreckage of an economic system that rewards exploitation and views human beings as capital. Yes, it appears I have yet another Goliath to add to my list of oppressors. The Blogging Industry has been made aware of my existence and they don't like the smell of my url.

I received this message today, in what at first appeared to be a magazine subscription insert that fell out of my Lego Lovers weekly.

Dear Ms. Needles,
Welcome to the wonderful world of Bloggin'! We're all so impressed with your work! One thing, real quick, cut the dissent. Look, we all hold the Right to Free Speech near and dear, I mean we're Bloggers! Just like you! The only differnece is we realize that you don't blog about the hand that RSS Feeds you. Catch our drift? So as much as we love your unique style and playful irreverence [we do! you're in space! we get it! ha!] this populist didacticism has gotta go the way or geocities, or we've got a 404 error: page not found with your name on it. Keep up the good, pro-bloggin' work!
Love always,
The Blogging Industry

I may be a humble girl from outerspace and the future, but I know when I'm being threatened by the Titans of Big Bloggin'.

pomp and happenstance

So I caught the captain picking a wedgie today. I know it shouldn’t be a big deal. Our space suits are bulky and unaccommodating, not to mention the weak gravitational field really encourages our attire into previously uncharted crevices. But he’s my boss. And I don’t think I can respect him now that I know he’s dipping into our precious water supply to scrub shit stains out of his space suit. He came up to me and Leonid in the Spacecade (we were playing Mortal Kombat and I was winning so Leonid pretended like the International Space Station had just hit some turbulence and caused him to fall onto the reset button which was total bullshit so shit got real bareknuckle and then I took out this swiss army laser my dad got me when I moved into a bad part of the kupier belt and I was chasing him around the rec room and telling him he was about to undergo a phase change from living to dead, so yeah it was getting ugly) and the captain walks in with one of his trademark What’s Going On In Here You Two faces and I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t take him seriously. He threatened to take away my 4 o’clock snack privileges, and I told him to wag his finger all he wanted but we both knew where it had been.

Hey guys look what I learned how to do!

this is a hyperlink!

I bet some day travel (both space and time) will be as simple as clicking hyperlinks, huh, guys, huh? Oh and remember to overthrow the government, because I’ll be back in a couple light years and if I find out you guys are still practicing the same old oligopoly marauding as a representative democracy, I’m gonna do a whole lot of passive aggressive blogging.

What Happens Here, Stays Here

Alright.
I'm not proud of it, but one of the cosmonauts, pardon me Russian Astronauts (to be politically correct) invited me to go stay at a new Steve Wynn casino resort in a Black Hole this weekend and let's just say I hope their slogan is right because I did a couple things I'd really like to get lost in a vortex of infinite density and space-time curvature.
Ugh.
You have no idea what the absence of physical laws will do to a girls moral reservations.

Europans are so weird srrrrrrrrsly!

So I stay at this hostel on Europa (hostels on Jupiter - - - so expensive!) and I go to use the bathroom (communal, blech) and part of the complimentary pack of toiletries they had, in addition to all the usual suspects, a little tube labeled 'Shampubes'. Ewwww!!! Europans wash their pubes! People from different planets are so wrrrrrd.