Only one hundred single-serving pouches of instant were allotted for him on Expedition Six, stowed in the galley in a metal drawer with a black net stretched over its mouth to make sure the pouches wouldn’t float away. But for all the care in the universe, it’s been more than two months since the shuttle delivered him and his coffee to the International Space Station, and there aren’t one hundred pouches in that drawer anymore.
He’s a writers writer (whatever that means) but i seek him out. I’m excited to see what happens when guys like him can build a real living off fan-boys like me. As more options show up everyday, i’ll be buying.