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Separate Cargo and Personnel Missions for NASA?
l8f57 writes "Hal Gerham (from the NASA CAIB report) is calling for cargo and people to be separated into different missions. He also goes on about how a re-usable spacecraft may not be the most cost efficient vehicle."
yup
http://www.nw.net/mars/docs/nearterm.txt
we send boybands into space!
Dear Dr. Goatse,
I am writing to you because I am in need of legal assistance. I am currently charged with murder, burglary, terrorism, and a wide variety of charges. The story behind these accusations is somewhat longwinded, but I will attempt to describe it below:
It all started when I was a child. I was the victim of sexual abuse by a deranged, obese, elderly babysitter. This man would babysit for me when my parents went on long vacations. As soon as they left, my normally cozy home turned into a sordid den of gay rape and bestiality. The old man, who by coincidence shared the name Ike with another famous gay man from a different troll, would act normally for a few hours after my parents departed. Soon, however, he would ask me to come sit on the sofa with him and watch television. While we watched the good old sitcoms on television, he would slowly move his wrinkled old hand onto my leg. I was too small and too scared to object, and he wouldn't have cared anyway, so I ignored him and continued to watch the TV. He massage my legs, moving in higher and higher circles with his warm, delicate touch. Eventually he would come to my buttocks, where he would slide his weathered hands into my shorts and continue his massage. At this point it would become very difficult for me to watch my shows, as he would squeeze my tender young asscheeks while breathing heavily (I think the sexual excitment presented some problems for him and his pacemaker). At some point, he would flick off the TV and pull my pants off, then my shirt. His semi-bald head glistened in the afternoon sun, and his white hair was matted to his head with his sweat. He would turn me over, and continue his massage. I didn't look back at him as we would get angry if I did anything other than staring ahead and pretending that nothing was happening.
Zzzzzzzzip! His zipper, with its sound easily susceptible to onomatopoeia, flew open. A few seconds later, his shining manhood flew outwards. My young asshole would clench in nervous anticipation of his anal invasion with his nine hard, throbbing, inches of man-meat. I could hear his weazing breath as he coughed some saliva onto his penis, rubbing it to make up for its geriatric lack of virility. While he aroused himself for his rectal piracy, he slid a finger into my clenched anus. Initially, the pain seemed unbearable; however, as time went on, I gradually relaxed and even came to shove my small boyish behind back onto his intruding finger, aching for prostate stimulation. Soon it was time: he withdrew his finger, and prepped his hard manhood for its intestinal odyssey into my backdoor. My bay breath quickened, and thoughts of his cragged, veined old manhood filled my mind like a Kreskin's semen in BSD's dying bowels. I felt a warm touch against my cheeks, and soon the head of his mantruder was nestled inside of my gripping sphincter. I gasped as his throbbing virility inched into my rear passages. Slowly but surely all of his nine inches invaded my bum, and I was left impaled on him. As I mentioned, he was quite obese, so his flabby, pasty stomach with its green varicrose veins were pressed against my young back. At this point my eyes bugged out of my head as his cock buggered into my asshole. Soon the pumping began: there was some pain, and while it did multiply as time went on, the pleasure grew too, but at an exponential rate. Taking into account other factors, the overall satisfaction could be measured by the equation S(x) = GAMMA(x) - 20x, where GAMMA is the standard gamma function. As you can see, it would be only a short time (about 6 seconds) before I was in throes of esctacy. Alas; all good things must come to an end, and soon Ike was ready to shoot his seed deep into my poop chute. As his semen shot forth into the deep, moist unknown, I moaned "Oh yes!" with such a force that I could have burst through a brick wall and dispensed sugary beverages such as Kool-aid and Capri-Sun. His steaming stringy semen oozed its way in reverse through my di
Wow. Truly, you are the Troll God.
I'd say just about any sportscaster would. I've watched a lot of baseball this season and in almost every game one of the announcers will say that something is "due" because it hasn't happened in a while. For example, in last night's Mariner's game, the announcer was going on and on about how the Tampa Bay pitcher was due to walk a batter "any time now", since he hadn't walked many yet during the game and he usually walks several per game.
Compare the same for a new Corolla or a new Sirion and an Expedition (and a Volvo S80 for good measure) and you will get my drift. Especially after you try to take a sharp corner with any one of the vehicles mentioned. After all, the ability to take a sharp turn at 50 mph+ is a safety spec part for a vehicle (at least the way I see it).
Similarly, ability to do evasive maneuvers may become oneday a handy feature for a space vehicle. Stingers or Strela 12 in Florida anyone? Or you think it is far fetched ;-)
Baker's Law: Misery no longer loves company. Nowadays it insists on it
http://www.sigsegv.cx/