Everything went great right up to the explosion.

Designing a station with artificial gravity would undoubtedly be a daunting task. Space agencies would have to re-examine many reliable technologies under the light of the new forces these tools would have to endure. Space flight would have to take several steps back before moving forward again.

Once I got home, I sulked for a while. All my brilliant plans foiled by thermodynamics. Damn you, Entropy!

I started the day with some nothin’ tea. Nothin’ tea is easy to make. First, get some hot water, then add nothin’.

Astronauts are inherently insane. And really noble.

By my reckoning, I'm about 100 kilometers from Pathfinder. Technically it's called “Carl Sagan Memorial Station.” But with all due respect to Carl, I can call it whatever the hell I want. I'm the King of Mars.

My asshole is doing as much to keep me alive as my brain.