Occasionally frustrating, and not as useful as it could be given that I am without the advantage of being underestimated. Still, there’s only one member of the crew who makes a consistent effort to use my age to keep me out of jobs and generally be a pain, and I don’t think I need to tell you who that is.
Is this a reference to the ritual distribution of sweetened, plastic-wrapped products that took place each year on Earth-That-Was? The tradition is still carried out on distant corners of one or two of the rim planets today, though instead of candy it’s usually single dried kernels of corn, and instead of wearing costumes, children adorn themselves with chicken feathers.
If so, I am afraid I am unable to offer you any confections over the Internet, though if you were here, I would offer you an ounce of molded protein.
There are no rainy days in space. The question is irrelevant. If there were, I would be wondering how we had come to be in this strange atmosphere, or what it was that was about to kill us since this strange warp in reality occurred.
On-world, though, rain is an excellent opportunity for standing outside.
Glad to have all you little browncoats aboard. Just thought I’d get it in your heads that others on the crew have one of these ‘blog’ things too. I’m sure they’d appreciate it if you went and hassled ‘em a little.