Fae Wellington's The Loathing of Spaced Men
I'm no dummy. When somebody says "I am over the moon!" I know that they are not literally over the moon; I know that they are merely happy. But if I worked at NASA and some space-walking astronaut said to me via aerospace walkie talkie, "I say, Houston, I am over the moon!" I wouldn't be able to restrain myself. Is the fucking astronaut happy, or just stating the obvious? "Listen, shut up! I'm not your therapist! And I know where you are - I can see you on my goddamn aerospace radar machine screen, you dolt," I would reply, with no small amount of heat. I've never had patience for astronauts. Cosmonauts I can handle, at least until their novelty wears off. But astronauts? Bunch of puffy, silly asses. You're in space. Say something profound or just cut the cord already.