I'm not going to mention that I found Iron Man's stash of wine. Nope. Not gonna mention it. And I'm definitely not drinking it right now.
Maintenance duty's a bitch. When I say "maintenance," you think "engineering work" or something, right? Think, maid. I'm a maid. Very maidy. Cleaning. More like...maidtenance. So while I'm down or up or left or right on my hands and knees washing the floor or wall or ceiling or other wall, Iron Man's drinking out of his secret stash of wine that I didn't find and am not drinking.
Actually I won it from him in a game of cards, but I don't think he knows it yet. I'll be sure to tell him what he owes me. And then, oh no, no wine, what do I do? And I'll say, fuck off, because I drank it all already, except not right now.
Fucking hell. All the cameras are looking like eyes and the wires are looking like trees. I'm going fucking crazy. Or maybe it's just the alcohol. Which I'm not drinking.
Red October, over and out.
Showing posts with label cards. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cards. Show all posts
6 June 2011, 19:07 CDT - Time and Trouble
Iron Man is telling me it's June 6 and not May 31. I'm telling Iron Man he's a total fucking idiot if he thinks I could have gone a whole week without even noticing it. Granted, it's quiet enough that there wouldn't be anything interesting to notice, but the piercing boredom would have constantly reminded me of exactly what time it is. Time slows to a fucking crawl when you're in space. Literally, too. Fuck. Okay. Let me think.
Last thing I remember is heading to my bunk to see what was messing around there. Then I wake up this morning and Iron Man tells me I'm on maintenance duty for a month because I shirked work for a week. Fuck you, Iron Man, it's only been a day (I tell him), and then he shows me the date on the computer. Fucking June 6. So I go along with it. Now I'm on maintenance duty. Making sure this piece of junk works. Like fucking clockwork. Goddamn clockwork. Clocks. Time. Clockwork. Damn. Fuck me.
Red October, over and out.
Last thing I remember is heading to my bunk to see what was messing around there. Then I wake up this morning and Iron Man tells me I'm on maintenance duty for a month because I shirked work for a week. Fuck you, Iron Man, it's only been a day (I tell him), and then he shows me the date on the computer. Fucking June 6. So I go along with it. Now I'm on maintenance duty. Making sure this piece of junk works. Like fucking clockwork. Goddamn clockwork. Clocks. Time. Clockwork. Damn. Fuck me.
Red October, over and out.
30 May, 2011, 12:43 CDT - Gloom and Gluttony
Yes, I ate your last chocolate truffle, Top Notch, but to be fair I didn't know it was yours and they are really good. Do you know how long it's been since I had a chocolate truffle? Or chocolate of any sort? Nine. Months. A whole nine months. Девять fucking месяцев! I could have had a kid in the time it took for me to find and eat a chocolate truffle.
The shadows around here are screwing up. Sometimes they're not there at all and sometimes everything looks like a spider or the branches of a dead tree and sometimes everything is covered in shadow. I'll be honest - I'm a little scared. Burning up on reentry? No big deal. Getting disconnected from the space station? Might be a fun trip. But shadows, man, shadows...these shadows. I'm not scared of the dark or anything, but these shadows are...they're something else.
Most of the computers are still pretty fucked up but I've scavenged a single scrap of video from the junk pile, as it were. All it shows is a dark trip through the halls of the station and about half a second of some guy in a suit. Again, I showed it to Nosemeal and he told me he doesn't even own a suit. He says the last time he ever needed one was for his father's sixth wedding - about six years ago, actually. I was there, too. Man, was that a fun night. I remember getting drunk as all hell and riding on the chandelier until it fell and set everything on fire. Damn. I wish I could have nights like that out here.
But that's right - we don't have nights at all.
Platinum DJ Bentley D, MC, PhD, King of Games, is telling me there's something going on with my bunk. Not telling me literally, but there's a security feed here and even though it's dark as, well, outside, I can tell that there's something there. I'll check it out, I guess.
Red October, over and out.
The shadows around here are screwing up. Sometimes they're not there at all and sometimes everything looks like a spider or the branches of a dead tree and sometimes everything is covered in shadow. I'll be honest - I'm a little scared. Burning up on reentry? No big deal. Getting disconnected from the space station? Might be a fun trip. But shadows, man, shadows...these shadows. I'm not scared of the dark or anything, but these shadows are...they're something else.
Most of the computers are still pretty fucked up but I've scavenged a single scrap of video from the junk pile, as it were. All it shows is a dark trip through the halls of the station and about half a second of some guy in a suit. Again, I showed it to Nosemeal and he told me he doesn't even own a suit. He says the last time he ever needed one was for his father's sixth wedding - about six years ago, actually. I was there, too. Man, was that a fun night. I remember getting drunk as all hell and riding on the chandelier until it fell and set everything on fire. Damn. I wish I could have nights like that out here.
But that's right - we don't have nights at all.
Platinum DJ Bentley D, MC, PhD, King of Games, is telling me there's something going on with my bunk. Not telling me literally, but there's a security feed here and even though it's dark as, well, outside, I can tell that there's something there. I'll check it out, I guess.
Red October, over and out.
27 May, 2011, 14:32 CDT - Sickness and Sport
Iron Man has caught a nasty cough, which is never a good sign on missions like ours. Technically we could force a quarantine so that we don't all get it, whatever it is, but we're not going to because he's pretty much the only one who knows what he's doing. Or is that only my opinion?
Bonesaw and I have been playing space tennis. Sort of. What we do is when we go out on a spacewalk we chuck the ball at the hull of the station and do our best to grab it when it comes back. So far we haven't lost a ball, but mostly because we've been throwing from about ten feet away. And we've got just two, so I'm not planning on taking any risks with the only entertainment I have left.
The cards are currently residing in my bunk and I am keeping them there because I do not like losing them. Despite my earlier claim of not having entertainment besides space tennis I also really like playing cards. And winning.
I had a dream again. Not the same one, but a creepy one all the same. The moon suddenly grew some kind of evil face and sucked in the, well, air. It made a black hole and we all got pulled in.
I could be in trouble for having bad dreams. I may not be fit for the job.
But fuck that. I'm the only sane man here.
Red October, over and out.
Bonesaw and I have been playing space tennis. Sort of. What we do is when we go out on a spacewalk we chuck the ball at the hull of the station and do our best to grab it when it comes back. So far we haven't lost a ball, but mostly because we've been throwing from about ten feet away. And we've got just two, so I'm not planning on taking any risks with the only entertainment I have left.
The cards are currently residing in my bunk and I am keeping them there because I do not like losing them. Despite my earlier claim of not having entertainment besides space tennis I also really like playing cards. And winning.
I had a dream again. Not the same one, but a creepy one all the same. The moon suddenly grew some kind of evil face and sucked in the, well, air. It made a black hole and we all got pulled in.
I could be in trouble for having bad dreams. I may not be fit for the job.
But fuck that. I'm the only sane man here.
Red October, over and out.
19 May, 2011, 20:25 CDT - Browsing and Bullets
The station is calling me paranoid.
This I know because I am giving it a voice and that voice is telling me I am being paranoid.
I have named the voice Bentley Darryn, after my alcoholic father, and it will be my squishie. I take that back - I have rechristened the voice Platinum DJ Bentley D, MC, PhD, King of Games, (in honor of my father), and now it will be my squishie. Or...my shippie. Or my stationy? In any case, besides faking schizophrenia, I have also spent some time both skimming and perusing some depressing comics, such as Buni and C&H for starters. These horrible artists make me feel better about my own assholism.
In my delectable (or should that be detestable?) search for horror and disgust, I have found 'shopped (obviously) pictures of ghosts, demon wolves, and the like. Considering that I, like before, have nothing to do aboard Platinum DJ Bentley D, MC, PhD, I am going to continue looking for these pictures until I find something that actually frightens me. Or makes me go, "Wow, great work," or, "This is the bee's knees."
Huh. Those links remind me of House of Leaves. Aha! You can't tell what's a link and what's not, can you? Well, I'll tell you: "House" is not, the other two are.
Yeah, I've bitched about having to blog, but I think I'm starting to like it.
In a very fast turn-around of events, the cards are lost again. I already checked the ansible, so don't suggest that. Who the hell am I talking to?
That's my two bits for today.
Red October, over and out.
This I know because I am giving it a voice and that voice is telling me I am being paranoid.
I have named the voice Bentley Darryn, after my alcoholic father, and it will be my squishie. I take that back - I have rechristened the voice Platinum DJ Bentley D, MC, PhD, King of Games, (in honor of my father), and now it will be my squishie. Or...my shippie. Or my stationy? In any case, besides faking schizophrenia, I have also spent some time both skimming and perusing some depressing comics, such as Buni and C&H for starters. These horrible artists make me feel better about my own assholism.
In my delectable (or should that be detestable?) search for horror and disgust, I have found 'shopped (obviously) pictures of ghosts, demon wolves, and the like. Considering that I, like before, have nothing to do aboard Platinum DJ Bentley D, MC, PhD, I am going to continue looking for these pictures until I find something that actually frightens me. Or makes me go, "Wow, great work," or, "This is the bee's knees."
Huh. Those links remind me of House of Leaves. Aha! You can't tell what's a link and what's not, can you? Well, I'll tell you: "House" is not, the other two are.
Yeah, I've bitched about having to blog, but I think I'm starting to like it.
In a very fast turn-around of events, the cards are lost again. I already checked the ansible, so don't suggest that. Who the hell am I talking to?
That's my two bits for today.
Red October, over and out.
14 May, 2011, 18:35 CDT - Penance and Preliminaries
The simple fact that they're making me write a blog to make amends should tell you enough about the ослы I work with. There's some Russian for ya. More or less. Dad never taught me much of it. He was always busy drinking. Turned out well for him when he crashed his Ford, didn't it?
Yes, I managed to sneak some illegal (at least up here) substances on board. No, it's not deadly contraband. Yes, I suppose I shouldn't have done it. No, I don't think I deserve this.
At least there's a good signal. There would have to be, or else I'd be stuck doing something horrible, like - oh, wait, there's fucking nothing to do in this place. Even the single deck of cards we had were lost long ago. It's not easy to lose something, anything, either, in as cramped a place as we're in, especially not something that is actually fifty-two things prone to floating and with bright red backs. My only remnant of those cards is the rubber band, and even that's stretched to its limit. I take that back - it just broke. Right before I let fly, too. Bonesaw hates it when you throw things at her, and hates it even more when you're flinging those things out of a rubber band.
Well, I suppose Iron Man will check up on me every few days. Hope this is sufficient, bastard.
Red October, over and out.
Yes, I managed to sneak some illegal (at least up here) substances on board. No, it's not deadly contraband. Yes, I suppose I shouldn't have done it. No, I don't think I deserve this.
At least there's a good signal. There would have to be, or else I'd be stuck doing something horrible, like - oh, wait, there's fucking nothing to do in this place. Even the single deck of cards we had were lost long ago. It's not easy to lose something, anything, either, in as cramped a place as we're in, especially not something that is actually fifty-two things prone to floating and with bright red backs. My only remnant of those cards is the rubber band, and even that's stretched to its limit. I take that back - it just broke. Right before I let fly, too. Bonesaw hates it when you throw things at her, and hates it even more when you're flinging those things out of a rubber band.
Well, I suppose Iron Man will check up on me every few days. Hope this is sufficient, bastard.
Red October, over and out.
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