Well, I was just browsing around, and saw this place, and thought it might be a good place to crash for a while! I should probably tell you a bit about myself to start with. My name's 801194452300, but you can just call me 80119445. Or Crash, whichever is easiest. I was built in 1947, and spent most of my younger years working with the US air force in Groom lake, Nevada as a test pilot dummy. It was quite a dull job, really. In 1952 I was damaged quite severely in a little incident involving a rocket-propelled Lockheed D-21 drone. I came out second best, and was left in three storerooms for some time. Then, in 1957, this nice man came to see me, Werner was his name. He spoke at length of his increasing frustrations at the Air forces' non-cooperation with his rocket program, his family troubles, and the poor quality saki the USAF kept on base. A little while later, he came to see me again, he seemed much happier this time. Apparently, he had been given a great job at a place called NASA. He was really excited. So much so, that he offered me a job, his way of thanking me for sticking by him all this time. I now had a new purpose, a spacecraft test dummy. It was a fantastic job, although my first assignment didn't go so well. I was supposed to act as human-shaped ballast for an experimental craft called the X-20 Dyna-Soar. All was going well, untill they started the engines. These plutonium/hydrogen engines were never a good idea. I was getting pretty toasty by mile 10 000. It was around the point when I soared past the moon that I realized I was moving at a fairly good clip, and still accellerating exponentially. At mile 100 000 000, I noticed that we were approaching light speed frighteningly quickly. And just as quickly, the spacecraft kind of backflipped, and began to slow down, then stopped, and sped up once again, this time pointing directly at the earth. Atmospheric reentry was... Hot. And loud. I have to admit, I screamed like a little girl the whole time. During my panic, it occured to me that this was the first time I had screamed. It was also the first time that something had occured to me. I gasped, also for the first time. My legs kicked and my hand clenched. I was alive. I may have been an irradiated, time-travelling, and somewhat cowardly crash-test dummy, but I WAS ALIVE! Oh yes, the time travel thing. During my research following my crash landing in Western Australia. I discovered a little tidbit of research by a nice fellow named Albert. Basically, he said that time is relative, and that the faster one object moves in relation to annother, the slower it's personal time goes. This, I assumed, was why my 11 hour flight began in 1959, and ended in 1998. So technically, thought I was built 100 years ago, I'm only 21 years old. Pretty cool huh? Well, I thought so anyway. So, that's my story in brief. I look forward to working with all of you in the future. Or present, depending on your perspective.