Is this fucking thing on?

Attn: Ms. Dr. Emma McCoy of some other goddamn universe

We were conversing the other night and I, rather unfortunately and needlessly in my view, got called away to deal with a so-called emergency. I just wanted to tender my apology for running out on you like that and see if we might pick up a bit where we left off.

You just let me know, ma'am.

Even Doctors Get the Blues

Given the lack of anything else to do, I have been reminiscing. That means I have been drinking.

Not as much tonight, though. Just long sips of bourbon and a few puffs of this cigar I've been saving. Hell if I care what security says about the risk of fire in space. Might be a mercy if fire took us all out, the way things've been going.

'Ppears I'm fucking introspective tonight.

Goddammit.

Might as well get it over with. Introspective means memory lane, means wishing I'd never married that cunt Jocelyn, means wishing I'd signed up for the service years earlier, means looking at old pictures.



Ah, the Academy. Good times. Jocey might've been a royal pain in my ass but she wasn't too shabby with the camera. She always liked that one.

I always liked this one of her.



Damn shame she was a bitchface traitor to the Empire.

ETA: Oh, I found another one. Maybe I should cut my hair again.



Nah, if I cut my hair, I'd look like that douchebag from the other universe.