People often ask me: “Is it hard to endure the infinite loneliness of outer space while remaining a bachelor? How do you confront, day after day, the black void of chaotic waste, without the help of a loving relationship?”
The answer is that I don’t need to face these trials alone, for I met a woman on Jupiter who now lives with me in our ship: she’s my space girlfriend. She is similar to earthlings except significantly wiser. We’re very happy together; I think we’re in love. We share common interests, and I converted to her religion.
Today is our wedding. I lift up the veil from her face and we enjoy our first kiss. Now we float back to the master astro-bedroom and consummate our marriage. “Cosmonaut Stegz, shut the door — this is a private affair,” I must keep shouting, over and over.
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