Smokin' with Logan

[Zeltak]

[font=Palatino Linotype]February 12, 818 AS
Seventh entry.

[color=#FFFFFF]Dear diary,

Booyah! Now that's what I'm talkin' 'bout.

So, got myself out of this frickin' cellar and back to ol' stinkin' Liberty.

Oh Liberty! With your Navy-suckups, your Civilian boy-scouts and of course, your retarded Admirals. How great isn't it to come back and fight for a piece of shi* house who needs twenty nannies to screw a light bulb.

But 'nuff of the bad stuff, today was actually a great day. Or shall I say, an Orange day? Hehehe!

That's right, I just hooked up with my ol' cardamin'-sniffin'-jackass named D. Jameson. D for "damaged in the frickin' head." Had a distress call comin' from Willard Station in the California system. Little did I know that I would find him or "it" to be more exact, sittin' there five clicks south doin' ... nothin'! Was juuuust 'bout to smoke him, and suddenly that machine-man-whatever thingy started yappin' 'bout how I could gain much more than just killin' him.

Thought it was just a bad joke at start but it turned out he was talkin' some sense for the first time. Ya'see, I did say it was an Orange Day right? Well, let's just say that whatever Orange Juice I had before, ain't nothin' compared to what I will have soon. I'm talkin' routine shipments, underground style.

Oh, I just loooove the smell of cardamin' in the mornin'.

'Cus it sure as hell will smell cardamin' every-frickin'-day now, hahahaha!