so...

[r a p h a e l]

I'm hoping this thread's lack of activity is a result of all of us engaging on long trips across the universe.

I have yet to manage to hitch a ride off this planet.


Do you guys have any tips on how I may accomplish such a feat?  

[phlipp]

I haven't found any ways yet. Plenty of people will let me hitch, but then try to drop me off at an asylum when I ask them if they're going by way of Betelgeuse.  

[Milleia]

I figure if I sit in bed long enough, it'll blast me off across space because it's tired of my lazy a**. I like to think I've gotten...6 inches closer to my goal. Galilean moons, here I come~

Theory of propulsion by irritable, inanimate objects.

(Maybe I'd have better luck with the couch...)

 

[r a p h a e l]

Mileia Sermones III

I figure if I sit in bed long enough, it'll blast me off across space because it's tired of my lazy a**. I like to think I've gotten...6 inches closer to my goal. Galilean moons, here I come~

Theory of propulsion by irritable, inanimate objects.

(Maybe I'd have better luck with the couch...)

I don't think that'll be happening anytime soon..

the guide

Mattress
Mattresses are friendly, dim-witted, docile creatures capable of speech. They are all called Zem and live in the swamps of Squornshellous Zeta. Many of them are slaughtered, dried out, and shipped around the Galaxy to be slept on by grateful customers, though they don't appear to mind this. Many of the movements they make, such as gupping and willomying, are so unique that etymologists have driven themselves half-insane tracking down new words for them.

 

[Milleia]

r a p h a e l

Mileia Sermones III

I figure if I sit in bed long enough, it'll blast me off across space because it's tired of my lazy a**. I like to think I've gotten...6 inches closer to my goal. Galilean moons, here I come~

Theory of propulsion by irritable, inanimate objects.

(Maybe I'd have better luck with the couch...)

I don't think that'll be happening anytime soon..

the guide

Mattress
Mattresses are friendly, dim-witted, docile creatures capable of speech. They are all called Zem and live in the swamps of Squornshellous Zeta. Many of them are slaughtered, dried out, and shipped around the Galaxy to be slept on by grateful customers, though they don't appear to mind this. Many of the movements they make, such as gupping and willomying, are so unique that etymologists have driven themselves half-insane tracking down new words for them.

[Talk about blast from the past... Ahem, anyways]

Well, that makes me feel sooooo much better. My bed will NEVER abandon me. It will love my a** forever and ever, even after its death. I guess then it's great that I forsook the all-ighty couch.