Monday, March 23

one of my only vices

if you haven't heard from me for a while... here is why:

lots of people do bad things in the name of pleasure. and i am ok with every one of them. especially if they inconvenience or injure another. after all, einstein proved that your pleasure is increased just by decreasing someone else's.

at any rate, one of my particular vices is actually quite common and usually harmless: i like to sit on the beach in the sun. i like warmth, and a space station is just about the opposite of warmth. the whole fucking thing is made of metal or polymers or whatever the fuck it is, and it's all cold. freezing cold.

there are places that are warm however...among them Captain Spacefuck's stateroom.

so, as i said, i, like a lizard, seek warmth. the warmest place in this fucking rig is hangar 23, where smugglers and pirates re-paint and re-decal their ships to avoid detection: an admirable endeavor.

in said hangar, they have a massive heat-gun, which can dry the paint on a ship in minutes. quite useful while outrunning the authorities.

now, i discovered, that at the lowest setting, said heat-gun produces a warm space, just about the same as sitting on the beach somewhere. anywhere. so, i'd do what any industrious young man would do... sneak in a bunch of sand, sit in my fucking speedos and get a god damn tan.

i've been doing pretty much since i came here, and haven't had any problem.

until now. see, i've only just woken up, in the infirmary, with every hair singed off my body, as well as most of my skin, lying in a vat of skin-rejuvenating nutrients. the doctorbot informs me that i fell asleep and was sitting in front of the heat-source for 48 hours. and basically i was cooked.

fuck it... i got a tan now. and i don't have to go back to work for at least another week. hallefuckinglujah!

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