900 woohoo
Veb, Any chance I could maybe take a slap shot with the hockey stick? I mean, they did it with a golf ball, doncha remember?
I’m thinking of using an empty tequila bottle for a hockey puck. It should varrooom pretty good in one sixth gravity, and it’s not like there will be a shortage of empty tequila bottles.
Wattaya say? Be a pal.
I don’t have to do drugs to mess up my head. I went to Catholic school.
OOhhkayyy, you can take the slap shot. But I dunno about the tequila bottle, though the clunky shape probably won’t matter diddly with low gravity.
Isn’t there something canned you could use as a puck? I mean something that not even this crew will eat en route? (“Pineapple on Pringles!”) Keep in mind they eat squashed Milk Duds off of cineplex floors.
Hmmmm. IIRC, doncha Canadian folks sell canned fiddleheads? It would be symbolically pure and bet you could get good loft with it.
::bitching because other people aren’t even bother to provision ::
Veb
I have a whole box of stuff to eat here.
Get your minds outta the gutter you pervs !
Lets see we have -
Some canned food for the kitty, or we can pass it off as tuna for anyone who gets really desperate.
Some peanutbutter cups.
Ahh yes we have tang and here’s some of those nasty little canned weenies.
And last but not least some Orange juice, some sloe gin, and some Southern Comfort.
Who wants to join me in a sloe screw ?
The drink , I swear , don’t you people ever think of anything execpt sex ?
:taking Wally’s hand and whispering:
Come in here with me there are some sleeping bags hanging from the wall and we can climb in one and…
what are y’all looking at ? I was just going to show him how to ,umm, open a can safely in space, yeah that’s it.
Ayesha
Jaysus feckin’ Cecil B. Godforsaken DeMille! Will this epic never rest? Sigh.
Look here boys, just toss them delivery vans in the cargo bay there and quit askin’ stupid questions. Me and that robotic arm thing will take care of the rest.
Hey Wally? I know ye’ve got yerself set on smackin’ a tequila bottle into orbit, but would ye consider (in the interest of science mind you) helpin’ us get rid of this double-crossin’ burnt up little nekid otter thing? I’m thinkin’ that ‘First Weasel in Orbit’ will gather some rather more interesting press coverage than the booze bottle thing.
And who in the hell put this damnable MacGregor tartan on me spacesuit? I can’t wear that . . .
Dr. Watson
“I did not! Well, okay, so I did. What’s it to ya?”
Nunh unh uh! You guys keep your pee-pickin’ paws offa that moose schlong, it’s MINE, by golly! Had it stuffed and mounted, and it looks right pretty up there over my desk in my office. Company vice-president always looks a little pale when he comes in to talk, though, heh heh heh. Wonder what’s gonna happen in my review in March?
Look, I hate to bring this up, but, um, I’d like my retainer in advance this time. Y’know, BEFORE you make off with the space shuttle? It’s not that I’m worried about my bill or anything, but, well, you know how it is. So, when you’re passing the hat for the gas bill, throw in a bit extra toward the defense fund, mmmm?
::tosses back some more tequila, passes the bottle over to Falcon::
-Melin
::sighs deeply:: NASA only has to worry about PR and a few technical details::
Melin: we feel your pain, but I’m sure you’ll be suffused with pride when your office mascot appears as the banner for Base
Moonboink, moose schlong proudly atilt on a hockey stick. We have fullest confidence in your ability to sort out the pesky legal details.
Crick&Watson: given your current state of kilt displacement (MacGregor or not)shameless allusions to your robotic arm saving the mission just make us deeply…uh, well intrigued, actually.
Thank Mayhem Ayesha understands provisioning or else we’d be swilling yuppie water and haggis.
And where is John? He kick-started this whole inane pursuit. Bet he’s still caught in Customs.
Veb
Hea, if we got slap shots going on, I’ll keep net. Got to have someone crazy enough, and thats me!
oh, wait, I almost forgot <burp>
knuckle-dragging hose mongerer.
SDMB Self-Righteous Clique
Hea, if we got slap shots going on, I’ll keep net. Got to have someone crazy enough, and thats me!
oh, wait, I almost forgot <burp>
knuckle-dragging hose mongerer.
SDMB Self-Righteous Clique
Hey Melin, will you take a check?
Ooohhh…Tang! I love Tang! Hey, is there any of that dehydrated ice cream stuff? I’m in the middle of my cycle, and I’m craving sweet reeeeeeeeeaaaaaalllllly bad.
NO, you will NOT slap-shot the wombat! He’s our mascot! Poor little critter. Can’t just leave him orbiting around, totally defenseless! What if he gets hit by an asteroid or something?
Changing my sig, because Wally said to, and I really like Wally, and I’ll do anything he says, anytime he says to.
Just sitting back and seeing what I’ve wrought.
Look gang, we’ve got a couple dozen NASA guys on our ass, so we better get ready to blast off.
Let’s check off the list.
Beer? check
Drugs? check
Handguns? check
Various Gas inducing foods? check
Liquor of all stripes? check
Moose schlong? check
Protesting Lawyerly types? check
Naked, oily, sticky women? check
Tequila still appearing mysteriously? check
Did we lose the goddam cyborg? check
Drunken, coked up, homocidal Yeti? check
*The Straight Dope * Vols. 1-5? check
Everbody strapped down? Aw, screw it!
Rush CDs? check
The Prince of Darkness? check
An entire crew of lunatics? check
And most importantly, a burnt, shaved, shot-up, catapulted, exploded, shell-shocked, terrified, yelling pussy?
CHECK
All right, then, let’s go!
I’ll hit the button at 0–
10…
9…
Ba…
Damn, that was Chinese…
3…
8…
Damn…
7…
Aw, f*ck it all…
** We’re going to the Moon, baby!! **
< hits the big red button >
*Like a giant tumescent moose dick, the space shuttle rises from the platform. The techs scrambling around the ground watch in horror as it fades away, leaving behind a foul black trail.
“Well, it’s over, I guess,” says the Finder, turning to his boss. “There’re gone. And they took ** it. ** We’ll never retrieve it now. They won.”
“NO!!” snarls his boss. Dannyboy rubs his eyes. "The Agency can’t stand another humiliation like the FORMERAGENT debacle. We’ll get ** it ** back, no matter what. Launch it. "
The Finder pales. “But sir, we swore we never would- that it was too dangerous-”
“I said LAUNCH IT!!..and may G-d have mercy on our souls.” *
Hey Melin, will you take a check?
And you keep your hands off the wombat, Crick! Can’t just have him orbiting around defenseless, can we? Poor little critter.
Is there any of that dehydrated ice cream around here? I’m ovulating, and I’m craving sweets reeeeeeeaaaaallllly bad…
Changing my sig, because Wally said to, and I really like Wally, and I’ll do anything he says, anytime he says to.
What?! Lord Lucas? Here?!
Aaaarrrgghhhhh! < as acceleration hits VB >
VB
I could never eat a mouse raw…their little feet are probably real cold going down. :rolleyes:
::: manages to bring the “Little Debbie” snack cake truck to a screeching slam into the cargo bay at the last minute:
WHUMP
Hey, Y’all, look what I found outside the canteen! We got yer Nutty Buddys, we got yer Star Crunchies, yer Oatmeal Pies, Nanner Cakes… everybody eats Little Debbie, right?
And I got a whole case of those Spectravision glasses at the fireworks stand! Ooooo! Pretty pretty dashboard lights!
** Damn, I missed liftoff. **
Here’s to you, bold adventurers into the high untrespassed sanctity of space! Slip the ole’ moose schlong to 'em!
** <burp> **
I salute you!
<P ALIGN=“CENTER”> Tris </P>
takes the tequila bottle from Melin, slugs back the other half Psst, Melin…I brought the scotch for later…
And Little Debbie snack cakes??? Mmmmmm. And VB, STOP trying to see if my skirt will float around in zero gravity. I told you, that experiment is for later! Now…anyone want to try playing poker? I’m feeling lucky. 
“You are sweet, kind, and considerate… Like a grown up boy scout with tits!”
- Brian, aka SDMB’s one and only Satan.
:::climbing out of a duffle bag floating amidst the pile of provisions:::
Wow. Nothing like pulling a few g’s with your head tucked firmly between your ankles. I’ve never really looked up at the back of my knees before.
So, did we blast off or has Sealemon been eating at Taco Bell again?
:::gloms onto a passing tequila bottle:::
Well, lets see how peristalsis works in zero-G. Cheers!
Hey hey hey, that’s mine!
You! Yue Han! MY job was to press the big red button… darn it, I feel weak and useless and unloved now… What can my job be now? huh? huh?!?
You’re a chick in the Guy Stuff thread, 'Nooka. Your options are limited: Stripper, booze wench, hot-oil wrestler, or lawyer. And we’ve got a lawyer.
Or you could blend in like Cristi by setting your hand on fire. Just keep the hell away from the fuel tanks if you do.