Tuesday, April 7, 2020

Captain's Log, Day Seventeen

A midday thunderstorm raged outside our ship but the natives aimed to match the sound and fury inside as well. Capt A deems them to have succeeded in that endeavor.
The Commander of the HHS Wanker instructed me in graphical design, though we used tools slightly more advanced than my trusty sextant. The Commander pronounced me ready to solo-fish, at least when I'm in MS Word Bay and similar bodies of water. Trawling in the open ocean is still best left to true professionals.
Preparations for the male native's natal day celebration included disguising trinkets in festive garb; creating a concoction with sugar, flour, eggs, and cacao beans; and garnishing said concoction with more sugar and glitz. The celebration will commence, I've been warned, at precisely 0700 hours.

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