Only if the rest of the crew were females under orders to have sex with me. I’m unable to arrange that on earth, that’s for sure.
A: So, what have you been doing for that last four years?
B: Haven’t you heard? I’ve gone to Mars.
A: Really? So what was it like?
B: Well, it took almost two years to get there.
A: And what was that like?
B: Well, I played video games and read books.
A: Hmm…that’s…uh…interesting. And when you got to Mars?
B: Well, when we got there, we collected some soil samples.
A: Oh. Well, that’s fascinating. Is that all?
B: After that, they told us that there wasn’t really much of a reason to have people on mars. So we came back.
A: And how was that?
B: I played video games and read books.
A: Oh. That’s…uh…interesting.
B: What about you?
A: Well, I finished my BA, got a Masters, and a high-paying and interesting job in my field. I also met the love of my life, and we got married and had a fascinating honeymoon in South-East Asia, where we learned cooking techniques that allowed us to open up a restaurant on the Westside, which is highly successful and critically acclaimed.
B: Uh, that’s nice.
A: Oh, and I also played some video games and read some books. You can still do that on Earth, you know.
Having been to mars would be the ultimate putang magnet. I’d put that up against a BA or masters anyday 
+10,000!
Can you imagine how much money you could make from endorsements?!
“Hi, what’s your name?”
“Wev.”
“What do you do, Wev?”
“I have a fabulous degree and makes lots of money. Wanna have sex?”
“No.”
“Hi, what’s your name?”
“Lev.”
“What do you do, Lev?”
“Oh, I went to Mars.”
::throws legs into air:: “Fuck my brains out Lev!”
B: Well, no, I’ve gotten laid about 300 times since I got back.
A: Say what?
B: I meet a beautiful girl at a bar, go outside with her for a smoke, point at Mars and say, “See they red thing that looks like a star? I’ve been there.”
If the only way you can have sex is by spending four years doing nothing (and going to Mars), well that smells a lot like desperation. And by the way, there will be no Scotty, and they will not beam you down to the surface, and there will not be a human species there that speaks English, nor an oxygen atmosphere.
Just so you know.
No, really? I thought Spock would meet me and we’d have a fantastic picnic on Olympus Mons, after he showed me how to do that damned hand thingy. :smack:
So you’re even more than desperate for sex. In that case, go to Mars–what do you have to lose?
I’m not an engineer, but I’d be interested in designing the ship. Of course, my background is more in ecology than construction, & I tend to overpack.
*“No, it has to be bigger! You need more space for a complete glucose cycle! And much more water!”
“What!!! No!!!”*
B: Oh, and I also just made $25 million in an advertising contract with Coca-Cola, got $10 million advance for my memoirs from my publisher, I make more money than you do in a month every time I eat a Mars bar in public, and 3 billion people have seen me on life TV when I walked on the surface of a friggin’ alien planet for the first time in human history.
But really, glad to hear you’re well off. 
Do I have to change planes in Atlanta?
Does NASA not put restrictions on commercial endorsements by its astronauts?
Once you leave the service, I don’t see how they realistically could.
Hell, yes, I’d go. A chance to be the first real areologist, why the hell not.
But first I’d change my name to Usul and learn to walk without rhythm, because you know that place has to have bitchin’ worms, what with the planet-wide dust storms and all.
Then, when I get back, any Masters-having Thai chefs better watch their step, because my name will be a killing word.
The 21 month ride felt like only a couple of minutes thanks to the hypersleep and for some reason Mars looked like Florida.
I’d quite like to be shipwrecked on an island - and I sometimes used to fantasise about waking up and finding myself to be the last living human - so I like to think I’m (inwardly, at least) the pioneering sort. But for some reason, I don’t really want to go to Mars. I know this sounds really banal, but I think it’s just the long trip that puts me off (well, the comparatively high chance of failure isn’t a big plus, either).
I’d do it, if "COLDSLEEP"™ is perfected.
This is why I have spent the last decade carefully assembling nearly a terabyte of pornographic material. I collect it faster than I can consume it, because there will come a time when the rate of collection will drop precipitously due to other obligations. At that time, it will be like having my own private little internet, and I will discover things I downloaded but haven’t looked at in years, maybe ever. I will be getting daily deliveries from the porn fairy.
As long as I can take my collection on the trip to Mars, I’m there. Toothbrush, computer, and a box of Kleenex. I’m set.
Caveat: I am not married and do not have a child. I reserve the right to reconsider given a change of conditions.
Will Bruce Dern be on the ship?