Jesus-fucking-Christ! What the hell was that?! That thing came out of fucking nowhere! Man, I almost crashed right into that goddamn thing!
That was nearly a complete fucking disaster! I could have been smashed to pieces! Seriously, whatever the fuck that thing was wasn’t there one second, then fucking BAM! There it is! I have no idea—no fucking clue what that was! It was definitely round and blue, with some green and brown parts, and some clouds and shit, maybe? Man, that fucking thing could have destroyed me!
Am I all right? Are all my craters and fissures and everything still where it’s all supposed to be?! …okay…okay…looks like I’m still in one piece. Man, can you even imagine if I hit that huge blue piece of fucking shit? It would’ve been “sayonara, 2004 BL86!” And all because some worthless, shitty blue thing pops up right out of God-fucking-knows-where!
And the smell of that thing—Lord almighty! It was like the collective stench of seven billion unwashed assholes! I’ve never smelled anything so awful in my whole life. God, I almost barfed!
Oh, shit! My moonlet! I totally forgot about my fucking orbiting moonlet! Yo, moonlet—you all right, bro? Yeah? You good, dog? Did you see that fucking thing? I know! I know! Outta fucking nowhere, man! Yeah, smelled like shit! Fuck, dude! That was fucked up, right?!
Wow, I think…I think it’s really starting to sink in, how close that was. Man, that was really almost it for me, wasn’t it? Jesus Christ. And I haven’t even got to do half the things I want to do in my life, you know? I guess you just get so caught up in the bullshit of going around the sun and you think you got all those billions of years to break out of orbit to go visit the Crab Nebula or finally start writing that novel. It’s so easy to lose track of what’s really important.
I guess sometimes it takes something like almost smashing into some ass-smelling blue shitball to put it all in perspective.
Well, this is a wakeup call. I gotta get right with my folks back in the Asteroid Belt. I gotta figure out what I’m even doing with my life. I’m 4.5 billion years old; it’s time to finally get some goddamn direction. I sure-as-shit gotta stop hanging out with that fucking moonlet, that’s for sure. He means well, but if I’m being totally honest, he’s just a goddamn leech. I mean, how many hints do you gotta drop about a guy finding his own frickin’ orbit before he starts to get the picture? Shit.
Mark my words: this is the start of a brand new (357439) 2004 BL86. No more fucking around; no more taking shit for granted; no more—
Wait, what the FUCK is that big round red piece of shit?! WHOAAAAAA!!!!