C-dog's Guide To Outer Space, Pt. 1

Aliens - Oh, they're real. Don't give me all your science and your facts and your "God don't make no creepy aliens, hippie" nonsense. They're out there, they're mostly teeth and claws, and if they ever show up on Earth, we'd all better be ready for the fight of our motherfuckin' lives. I've seen the movies; I know what's up. And... yeah, yeah... you're like, "C-dog, if you're basing this loony tune theory on movies, what's your explanation for E.T. or Alf or Starman or any of the other good aliens that didn't try to eat the soft parts of our collective faces?" Well, to that I have but one answer... the so-called "creators" of these cuddly, cute, wise-crackin' aliens were, in fact... wait for it... wait for it... aliens themselves! That's right, they were sent down here to cloud or minds with misinformation so that when the invasion happens, we'll be all, "Oh, I'm sure they're harmless... heartlight and peace and 'use the force, Luke,' and so forth... here, I'm going to pet his adorable, wrinkled head." And then you pull back a stump. And then you get watch as it eats your lungs right out of your chest cavity as your town, your city, your state, your country, your planet, dies screaming from the beams of their super-lasers. It's going to happen, folks; don't be fucking naive.

Pluto - Remember when they took away Pluto's "planet" status and everyone started having cows and signing petitions because they thought Pluto's feelings were going to get hurt or something? Wasn't that the saddest display of nerds sans lives trying to make their voices heard above the din of general indifference since that one time they tried to save Enterprise from cancellation? As if Pluto gives a shit. It's not some fat girl that got nominated for Homecoming Queen by asshole Seniors. It's not going to cry it's eyes out and write dark poetry in it's diary until it moves away to a small, liberal-arts college where it goes gay 'til graduation. Nope, it's just a big ball of rock and ice hanging out in the depths of space thinking, "What's all the fuss about? And, hey, did they name a fucking cartoon character after me? Because I've been hearing rumors and I'm considering a lawsuit."

Quasars - I don't technically know what these are (some kind of star, maybe?), but it doesn't matter because they've got an awesome name that sounds like the best glam rock band the 70s never had. "Ladies and gentlemen, The Quasars!!!" How were those words never spoken to a stadium full of thin boys and freaky girls wearing face paint and losing their minds on LSD? Musicians with extra-terrestrial leanings really dropped the ball on this one.

Satellites - Satellites are boring. They're just some radios that we tossed up there so we can pick up The Food Network and weird porn stations from Japan. They're basically like AV club science projects that are funded by the government and created by a bunch of dudes that believe sex only happens in the movies. Floating hunks of lame, is what they are. Though I do appreciate all they've done for the world of sports. I guess. Still, though.

Astronaut Pee - You know what happens to "liquid waste" after it's deposited into the space toilet, right? It gets ejected from the shuttle, out into the vast nothingness. This is such a bad idea, I'm literally boiling with rage. I want to slap NASA in the face right now, for serious. Think about it... we shoot all this astronaut pee into space and it floats around and travels through the galaxy until, one day, it lands on some distant planet; more specifically, it hits some sort of alien warlord directly in his multi-jawed, thousand-eyed face. Do you think he's going to be happy about this? No, he's going to figure out where the pee came from (they've got crazy science shit up there; like CSI times a million), he's going to get an armada of battle cruisers together, and then they're all going to come down to Earth and kick the shit out of us. All because Buzz Aldrin couldn't just pee in a can and stick it in a closet until the ship landed.

Black Holes - Big, sucking vortexes of gravity that may or may not actually exist, though they're plausible enough to be the basis for some quality science fiction. I think they're probably not real though; nothing that bad ass ever turns out to be an actual thing. If we ever do locate an actual black hole, it'll more than likely just turn out to be this weird spot in the universe that's got slightly stronger gravity and a really good press agent that's all in-your-face about how powerful it's client is. But it isn't. It's just a space whatever.