Big fat hairy deal, NASA. 

Top NASA scientist says that they’re on the verge of finding alien life. 

Is it just me or is everybody thinking that when they finally have that eureka moment and announce they’ve found evidence of alien life elsewhere in’t universe and it turns out to be just like microbes or plants and not a person-like fully formed alien able to communicate via oh I don’t know an Etch-a-Sketch or something, it’ll be a bit of an anti climax? I’ll probably be watching it on the news and go “Oh big fat hairy deal. Show me a little green man, or ET, or a replicant and not just like plants and shit – THEN we’ll talk” through a mouthful of crisps. I don’t cope well with disappointment. It comes from being youngest of three and constantly being disappointed. I was born disappointed. Disappointed is my middle name. Well, it’s not literally “Lindsey Disappointed Mason”. I’m speaking figuratively. But anyway, NASA, shit off to Shitsville with your shitty microbes discoveries. Nobody cares. We want Richard Dreyfuss carving hills out of mashed potato. We want flying saucers made out of shiny metal the likes of which we’ve never seen so we can get our hands on it to make truly non-stick frying pans with. 

(Apologies for saying shit before 7am. At least it’s not vagina. Woops. It is now. To be fair, the last time I said vagina in a blog was about twenty blogs ago.)

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