Departure Day +971


Departure Day +971

I have soiled another suit.

It’s this damn protein paste, just goes right through me. You’d think
when someone builds an expensive-ass interstellar spacecraft and blasts
a bunch of dumbfucks across the galaxy for what could be, I dunno…the rest
of their lives, they could at least put some decent food on board. Nope. So I’m stuck squirting tubes of cream-of-crap into my maw for the next few decades.

And Lieutenant Parker has rejected my advances yet again. I’d have to say this one definitely plays for the other team. I mean, I’m the Captain! As in; The Main Man, Driving The Boat, Daddy, etc. Meanwhile, Vasely and the others laugh and claimed they’ve been hitting that since we took off. I asked him, “So what’s wrong with me?” He said she told him I was as ugly as a bag of smashed assholes and smelled like the same. That’s when I found out about the protein paste problem. Damn the air seals in this suit, they’re so tight I can’t smell my own brand.

Fuck it. I’m not getting up today.

Oh yeah, we were boarded by a bunch of ant people or something and the guys fought them off. Yeah, space-ants. They fly around in space. Don’t ask me how, I don’t give a fuck.