Dear Readers,
Well here we are cruising serenely along the 15th parallel on pretty much a dead run, for the fourth day in a row. For years we have been accused by some of living in a parallel universe. Now it’s true. ROFL.
Crew Update
Human Cluedo continues to provide limited intellectual stimulation for an increasingly brain dead crew. I can report that dispatch by either winch handle or sun cream is a messy affair, and not to be tried at home.
The skipper’s consciousness levels are improving by the day as he has turned his back on Scopoderm. Unfortunately the same can’t be said for the Laird, who while hiding behind the cover of Scopoderm, we suspect may be secretly shooting up smack during his prolonged absences in his cabin. (Can anyone help- does smack induce snoring resembling a thunderstorm?)
The Daft lad continues to while away his days with a can of WD40 in one hand and a hammer in the other. No wonder Skip has developed a nervous twitch.
The Plane Driver has proved to be an adept serial killer, but unfortunately for him, the geriatric company he is keeping is now ageing him fast. Jennifer, your wee laddie will be all grown up when you next see him, and probs as twisted as his daddy. Treasure the memories.
The ship’s rat has never recovered from the incident in the shower with a bottle of gin, and now runs away and hides when you try to engage in conversation with him. As a result he spends prolonged periods hiding in the galley. Braw scran but.
The Karaoke Queen is on strike. A card carrying member of both Equity and the RMT, the recent discovery of a used Scopoderm patch attached to his big toe sparked an elf an safety outcry. Skip is trying to contact ACAS to resolve the situation before it escalates to the rest of the crew.
And that’s it for now. All well, all happy, and now counting down the days to a sesh in Rodders bay.
Byeeee!