James Miller

[Jimothy]

*LOG USER: JAMES MILLER*

Okey dokey then... oh for Pete sake, bloody missed a spot.
*Squeaking*
Ahh... well, it's all clean, even got that bloody coffee machine making something that resembles tea, talking of which.
*Squeak*
*Slurp*
*squeak*
This bloody chair's squeaking again, right, OK, I'll put that onto the list, new chair.
*Sigh*
Anyway, you listening to me over there, bloody machine with your little green light?
*Squeak*
*Slurp*
And you know what, just for that, I'm not gonna put the bloody cup back down you bloody squeaky oo-jit, really need a new bloody seat if this thing's gonna fly any time soon.
*Slurp*
Ok, well basically I'm James. I live on Waterloo Station, where I give lectures about Spatial Economics. It seems all the smart-arse types who bloody well think they know everything come up from their cosy little Cambridge University dorms to come and see some economics in real life. They bloody hate it. All the oily ships and heavy containers. Idea of dirt and hard work scares the most of the bloody lot right back to their mothers. *Slurp* Hah, me and the other 'lazers' had a right laugh about one kid, was bloody scared of everything. The bloody barman smiled at him and he cried. Mind you, if our barman smiles at you, you got a bloody good reason to cry. *Slurp* Oh, just for info, Lazer is the term the space-faring folk give us non-space-faring folk, lazers as in lazy. Stupid really, seeing as how they just sit around drinking bloody tea when they're here, out of my bloody tea maker I might add, and leave us to do all the unloading and such. Do far more bloody work than they do. *Slurp* That and the fact I gotta put up with the bloody brat parade from Cambridge once a bloody week. *Sl...* Oh, it's empty.
*Squeak*
*Beep*
*Gurgle*
*Sploosh*
*Slurp*
Ouch, bloody hot piece of...
*Squeak*
Right anyway, so working for Interspace isn't so bad, at least it's relatively safe. I mean, My old man bloody went and got himself blown up. Silly old guy, armed forces ain't no place for a bloody plonker like him. Not with them bloody Kusari lot blasting at you. Ah well. *Slurp* ah, hot hot hot, ow damn. Another good thing about being here actually, I don't have to see my bloody mother, she lives on New London, and 'unfortunately' I don't get much time to go visit. Well, especially recently. Since I bought this bloody wreck of a Camara freighter from that strange bod about three months ago, I've spent more or less all my spare time here, fixing here up and getting her, well, you, space worthy. Figured I'd take one of those corporate trader agreement policies. It's a case of I can earn my money how I like, and they'll either insure my ship for me, or give me one, though the latter's unlikely 'cos bloody Interspace are rather greedy. All I have to do is log everything I do money-wise, and send them 10% of my profits. I can also get myself escorts, paid for by Interspace, well, if I give them another bloody 10% anyway. Wonder if that tea's... *Slurp* Ahh that's great. So yeah, I'm gonna apply for that once I get a new bloody seat for this here Camara. *Slurp*

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I was formerly know as Spiritar.

It's been a while.