So there I was, just sitting in my trophy room in my super big house where all the celebrities live just watching ESPN’s top 10 plays from my little league season back in ’07 when the president of nasa snapchats me that my exclusive internship this summer is cancelled cause rockets can’t fly when the corono virus is in the air to block it. Who’da thunk of it.
I mean, it doesn’t matter to me cause all I did to get the internship was eat so many moon rocks from NASA’s special collection that I was categorized as 50% moon rock and then show them my collection of limited edition Mighty Beanz and then I was offered a spot on their biggest rocket going to reclaim the moon from some species of intergalactic rock people. I don’t really remember, I wasn’t paying super close attention during the confidential military briefing we had with the president (NOT trump, cause I am woke too, a woke rock) cause I was trying to remember whether I had packed enough powdered ice cream sandwiches for the ride.
I hadn’t.
It’s kinda nice, though, that I can just slum around my huge flat in London this summer instead of having to engage in galactic warfare against an alien race.
Between you and me, I was secretly hoping to just chill with the lads, but when they saw my skills with the moon rocks and stuff I couldn’t really say no to an internship.
Especially since I left Tim Cook on read about becoming his lead product designer and software engineer my mom’s been on my back lately about turning down internship opportunities.
But now that the corono virus cancelled my NASA internship she can’t really blame it on me.
I mean, could I hit back the CDC about the head virologist position they just offered me?
Yeah, sure, probably. But I’ll probably give it a few weeks. Gotta bait the hook, see if they throw in a chance to do something fun, like weaponize a strain of the Bubonic Plague or somethin’.
