Pulling A Blyleven

Setting: August 13th 2007, the infamous date of RK and WV's last post. Cape Canavral. Crying children.


RK: She packed my bags last night, pre-flight. Zero hour nine A.M.

WV: To you cruel upstate New York, I bid you and your post-industrial detritus forever adieu, and am heading West young man....in RK's rocket ship! I can't wait to see the views...

RK: And I'm gonna be high as a kite by then.

WV: Our blog is going to be tough to do out in space, besides, the 2007 terms of RAGNAROK dictate that only teams centered at the lattiude and longitude of 42.37 71.03 may win championships in all major sports this year, so watching the Twins, or any other team with a fan base that articulates the letter "R" at the end of a word, is pretty much pointless.



Rocket takes off, Setting shifts to 3 miles above Topeka, Kansas

RK: It's lonely out in space. On such a timeless flight.

WV: Yeah, maybe we should get our asses in gear and start blogging again.

RK: Mars ain't the kind of place to raise your kids. In fact it's cold as hell.

WV: Indeed, good thing I'm moving to a Mediterranean climate. Mars is not hospitable, fortunately I have no kids...

RK: And there's no one there to raise them if you did.

WV: OK, how do we land this bitch.

RK: And all this science i don't understand.

WV: Ah, the easy button. Thank you Staples! Ready to re-enter the blogosphere?

RK: It's just my job five days a week. A rocket man, a rocket man.