Ahh, Venus…

Ahh, Venus. The planet of *love*. The planet you don’t come-a-knockin’ if it’s-a-rockin’. We can’t land there, yet, but you can still marvel at her majestic beauty and full plumage of color. Ahh yes, she wore her best dress to the galactic ball.  We sent our best bachelor there (to see if he could woo the landing rights from her). We packed him with flowers, jewels, and other shiny things girls seem to like and sent him off.

Now we know others have tried and will continue to try, but when the moon (our wingman so to speak) gave us an elbow and said “I think she likes you..”, we knew we had to try.

It turns out Venus is a very secretive girl, she doesn’t even have moons. But, here at Fly-To Inc. –  er, I mean our resident Casanova and lounge lizard,  Brett Goesin, was up to the challange.

From what little contact we did get was some data and a garbled message to the effect of “omg, sh’es hot..(static)….(static) …crushing weight…(static)…cant’….breath….(static)ahhhhhhhhhhhNoodlepoops!(static) at which point we lost transmission. Perhaps we should have checked the wiki now listed on the right side for you. Apparently, Venus does not like suitors. And with a surface temperature of about 655 K (380 °C; 715 °F) and an atmospheric pressure of about 4.5 MPa or 92x  of Earths, she does *not* want to be seen (or touched). That dress of clouds is a full on knockout, sporting the finest sulfuric acid you will ever swaddle yourself up in.

However the russians were able to get a peek, but she caught them and melted their ‘probe’.  She will only accept the finest of gentlemen, and if not, she will dissolve you and wash you down the drain.