And a Backpack for Moon Rocks

Well, well, a private rocket ship went up into space today, in an attempt to win a $10 million prize. Luckily, they have to do this another time before the money is theirs. I say luckily there because I'm determined to win that prize for myself. If you doubt that, I encourage you to peek inside my garage and take a look at the gasoline and the safety helmet that I've purchased in preparation. While you're at it, why not inspect the reams upon reams of space plans that I've artfully drawn with map colors in my official 3 ring Lunar Binder? Not exactly the work of a astronautical novice, if you ask me. Now that most of the preparation has been done, I believe I'll be able to make both trips on Saturday morning before it's Tricentennial time. That's assuming favorable weather conditions, of course.

The beauty of my outer space strategy is its simplicity. All I'm going to do is fill a trashcan with leaves and gas, sit on top of it, and then light that baby up. Since the whole prize money thing is a race, I tried to focus on getting to space with as little complexity as possible. That means no steering on my rocket. In fact, I don't even understand why you'd need steering. Space is straight up, right? Also, that means no fancy parachute system for my descent. Instead, I'm just going to try to land in some grass or maybe an abandoned mattress. In case the landing gets a little tricky, I will also be bringing a pillow along with me.

According to that article I linked to, I've got to reach 62 miles in altitude to win the money. That's slightly higher than I expected; I'll probably have to make some allowances for aerodynamics. I was planning on wearing a tin foil jumpsuit to make me look more like an astronaut; there's no way I'm getting 62 miles high in one of those things. Instead, I'll either wear one of those full-body swimmer suits like they had in the Olympics, or just grease myself down with Crisco. Also, Octopussy can't ride shotgun as planned, since all that fur would slow me down. Rather than joining me, I'll give her a walkie talkie and let her be mission control. Someone please stay near her to make sure she's plotting my course correctly and advising me of incoming asteroids.

Okay, I think I've covered it. If you've got anything you'd like me to shout into outer space, please make a note of it in the comments.