precious little angel

the miracle isn't childbirth... the miracle is that you don't kill the little fuckers before they get old enough to kill you...

it's like a slow, controlled fall into hell

crazy shit happening here... two nights ago (are they even really nights) the fucking power on the station just shut off... fucking scary...

roboderby dreams part 1

i'll be straight... i'm fucked. i lost a lot of money in the master/slave races the other day (which is an entirely different story) and now various unsavoury elements on this station are on my ass.

the fraternity of man

we just got an all-station memo that morale is at an all-time low... like anyone really gives a fuck.

the administrators decided they wanted to cheer themselves up, so they called a meeting. each department had to send a representative. we played a game of 'rob the tourist' and i, sadly, got the least valuable shit off my mark, so am forced to go.

the invisible hand of capitalism

sometimes i suspect that the world conspires against my attempts to defraud it. i, like anyone else, enjoys taking a little time off of my shit job in hangar 23, and sometimes i don't want to spend my own vacation time. sometimes, i want to get something for free... some people call it 'throwing a sickie,' some people call it 'playing hookey,' i call it 'evening out the universe's attempts at fucking me.'

our perverted natures will always find a way

from time immemorial, all living beings have had two desires - teleportation and gloryholes.
the first, the instantaneous, secure travel between any two points in the (or any) universe, is easily understood.
the second, the wish to stick their reproductive organs into holes in bathroom stalls in the hopes that someone will pleasure them is also simple to understand.

fucked by the fickle (robotic) finger of fate

so, as you know, cosmoose cooked me dinner the other day, which consisted of space monkey five ways. apparently, shitzilla somehow got wind of this and is now super pissed off, what with us eating one of his cousins.

bit hypocritical if you ask me, since i've been with him while he personally ate a dozen soft-boned space monkeys in one sitting. he'll get over it.

mal-aka's murderous rampage

i was out drinking with mal-aka. he comes from a very harsh, rocky, sandy awful place and resembles something like a gigantic locust dipped in bronze. this tends to make people uncomfortable. on a shit station like this, we get a lot of weird looking visitors, so if people here get freaked out by him, it's a sign that something is different

flapjack fones home

the other day, flapjack comes to me in tears... the blubbering monster barely makes any sense when he isn't shooting salt water out of his hideous face, but today, his suffering made him completely incomprehensible... and hysterical.

even computers need a holiday

there is little doubt that sentient, carbon based species are lazy. hell, we only get jobs so we can earn money and holiday time, which basically means we work so that we don't have to work. this also makes us particularly stupid.

another pointless task

the thing about a station this size is that it's a work in progress, which is a more polite way of saying it's falling apart. it's so fucking big that if we had waited to move into until it was finished, i'd be an impotent, drooling old man before i stepped foot off the shuttle in hangar 23.

fucking cosmoose

so, fucking cosmoose invites me to dinner the other day, says he has a special treat, as i helped him out lifting some fuel from a shuttle that came into hangar 23 a while back. i get all excited, as the last proper meal i had wasn't exactly the relaxing dinner i had planned.

won't someone think of the robots

some war broke out on some fucking planet somewhere, can't be bothered to find out too much about it but, while skimming the news, found it interesting that this entire war was fought with robots. and that the generals and strategists and soldiers were all several planets away, while they were controlling their respective robo-armies.