I managed to get a good photo of the moon! (But not The Moon, there was no face with lots of cream on.) This might not seem like such a big deal to you but it does to me. Photograph the moon has been sort of like when I pour milk: a fucking calamity. Easy things I can’t manage.

Here’s a poem, from the Moon.

Neil Armstrong, walking on my face
Buzz Aldrin, walking on my face
And the third one is a space man, walking on my face
All on the surfaces, and they’re looking at all of the stuff that the moon has got.

Also: “that’s no moon, that’s a battle station.”