Astronaut Love Triangle

Ladies and gentlemen, it's only February and we already have the story of the year. For those who don't click links, please allow me to sum up: Astronaut girlfriend (or astronutjob, for brevity's sake) in Texas finds out that her astronaut boyfriend or (astronaughtyboy, for brevity's sake) in Florida is cheating on her with some astronaut slut (or astroslut, for brevity's sake). Astronutjob hops in her car and sets out for Florida in a diaper (because she didn't want to stop along the way to relieve herself), a trenchcoat (because that's what psychos preparing to wage bloody vengeance wear...which must make it tough for the PR people in the trenchcoat business) and a wig (because she...didn't want to be noticed?) and a whoooole bunch of weapons with the intent of teaching astroslut and astronaughtyboy some very serious life lessons about fidelity.

I don't care what else happens this year, nothing is going to top this. Astronauts, sex, betrayal, diapers, murder, astronauts and astronauts. This story has it all!

You can hear the talkshows now; pundits and common citizens alike are going to be wringing their hands and wondering whether or not NASA does any kind of pre-astronaut training mental health screenings whatsoever. Of course, it's obvious that they do. And you can bet that somewhere in Lisa Nowak's (astronutjob's real name) file, next to the question "Is subject insane enough to want to be stuffed into a bucket and propelled by rockets into an empty, endless void?", there's an emphatic "YES!!!" in double bold, red Sharpie.

PS: I think Astronaut Love Triangle would be an excellent name for the punk band I will form some day.