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International Space Station celebrates 18th birthday in true style – by setting trash on fire


Lets see you drive blindfolded, at 100mph, across the desert, in a flatbed truck, for three days to catch a parachutist (also blindfolded) on the center of an X after six vodka martinis per hour for three days.

Orbital mechanics is a particularly nasty branch of math, and it's one of those things that rewards pre-planning vs brute force. Try to log in too many times, you get locked out. Try to brute force a launch and orbit, and you die a firey, incandescent death.

Would you rather crap yourself, and arrive safely to duck to the washroom in relative shame (they've all been there, done that), or rush the job and say into the mike, 'Oops, we smashed into you, now we all die..."

Shit myself and get there, or rush and die? I'd rather be shitted than dead. Shit wipes up, death.... not so much.

Mine's the one with the Depends in the pocket.

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