Captain’s Log: Stardate 10244.9
Torrential downpours followed by an almost non-existent breeze led to the cancellation of last night’s race, even though the complete crew of the Enterprise was out in full force (Jonathan, it’s been fun, but you are the Weakest Link… Goodbye.)

After sitting on the mooring drinking beer, discussing Lefty’s need for kneepads, evaluating Laura’s fascination with Cher and watching Dave, Brad and Richard try to catch their own sushi, we called it a night and headed back to the clubhouse to try and empty the kitchen’s supply of fish and chips.

After dinner, the crew surprised me with a birthday cake (it was Lefty’s birthday too) in the shape of, you guessed it, a butt. Unlike the cake from last year’s Around Long Island, which was concave with Richard’s butt print, this one was convex and shaped with a smaller, younger ass. Even the leg and breast men of the crew could not look away. We all dug in.

Most noticeably: Laura took a big piece of ass, as if she hasn’t had one in ages. Lefty grabbed a piece of ass while her boyfriend slept at home. Dave got himself a nice piece of ass a week after Karen’s birthday. Not only did Richard grab some ass while Marcy was at home, but he helped pay for it. Kurt enjoyed a tasty piece of ass while his wife was in Boston, but then, in pure guilt, tried to call her on my communicator. Deb shared her piece of ass with Carol Weis, and Jeff didn’t seem to mind at all.

Speaking of Jeff, the USS Frolic managed to get a few shots of phaser fire in while we were in spacedock, weapons discharged and shields were down (Are they afraid to attack when we’re prepared?) We immediately went to red alert and returned some fire. Lt. Laura “Don’t Call Me Tasha” Heald thought fast and fired ice asteroids at the attacking starship, not only targeting their bridge, but the commander himself. A direct hit between the eyes caused Frolic to withdraw and seek band-aids for its wounded captain.

What a great night!