The Perseids have been a real bust for me this year.
Dr. Sky (who is always on assignment for George Noory) promised us so much more!!!
It's going to take a real "spectacular moon," or "show stealing Venus," or "magnificent conjunction of Uranus" to make up for the Perseids' "eyepopping bitch slap" which failed to appear.
Perhaps it's just me, and I showed up on "bring your own hoodwink" night at the local I.O.O.F., in which case of course I would not see shooting stars, but rather just some internal amped up Kundalini Whore of Babylon grinding on the helix spine of the beast and assaulting my pineal power point.
No. No. I was outside. Lodge meetings are on Monday nights.
Ratio of mosquito bites to meteors: 13 to 1.
Turn in your telescope, Dr Sky. You've hyped up one too many "events."
I may try again tonight, but with more cowbell. A giant cowbell purchased 30 some odd years ago from Lonestar Percussion, clanging in the dark, in the middle of a field.
In this life, you create your own humor.
Dr. Sky is a liar liar! Nose longer than a parsec wire!
Maybe I will see Bigfoot.
And Connie Willis.
