Here I Am, On Zharm

October 8, 2008 Willow

Finally figured out how to get this thing uplink to the blogosphere.

So, space is not all it’s cracked up to be.  I knew there would be risks and stuff, but this is nasty.  And living with these guys is going to be like the Real World, y’know?

So here’s my fellow astronauts.

Isador:  He’s from like Mexico or some shit.  He was a salesman, but he seems pretty smart, so maybe he read all those books.  He’s kind of a spazz, but whatevs.  He has Culture training.

Malaki:  Here’s this badass dude who spent some major time in jail.  That’s hardcore.  I haven’t talked much too him, but he could be good if things go south.  He has some Politics/Law training.

Cor:  So he’s some washed up baseball player or something.  Who the fuck cares about baseball?  Plus this fucker lost all of our money dicking around in a Corpulon sewer with shit monkeys or some fuck.  I mean, wtf?  He’s our Building Engineer.

Then there’s me.  What’s to say there?  I’ve spent the past year brushing up on medical knowledge.

So, we’re on Zharm, which is a bunch of rock clusters suspended in a chilly gas cloud.  Their buildings look like they’re made of bricks or some shit.  We’re in some alien ghetto or something, but there’s some wierd-ass Skendars next door.  I showed up, and all they wanted to do was have sex.

Our house is wierd.  There’s a pit, a kitchen, a living room, and four badass bathrooms.  These are like the best fucking bathrooms ever.  We’re sleeping in them.  Maybe we’ll build some beds and put them in there.  THere’s enough fucking room.

Oh, and Malaki found some wierd-ass Corpulon space suit.  It smells like Corpulon, which smells like ass.  Isador says they’res enough room for everyone.  Gross!

Sylvia Signing Out!


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