Captain’s Log: Stardate 10346.6
The winds for last night’s race barely gusted beyond 2 knots, canceling the evening’s race and forcing us to engage the impulse drive to drift around the life-less fleet for an hour. The two highlights were that it didn’t rain and we weren’t at work.

Commander Richard checked the rig and made some adjustments while Lieutenant Mitch ran queries through our onboard M5 computer (a/k/a Kurt) on how to make illegal copies of DVD movies. Ensign Lefty ate a half pound of chocolate (thereby doubling her body weight) while the always-hungry Ensign Patty waited for Mitch to whip out his salami.

Speaking of which, Commander Dave and Lt. Commander Jory are now referring to Mitch as “Seaman Salami,” which is just so wrong on so many levels. Nevertheless, Mitch did not produce salami as was on the past weekend, but his healthy supply of Sushi. The always-hungry Ensign Patty (Tune, don’t you ever feed this girl?) dug right in.

Also on board, from the still-flightless USS Eagle, was Bill. We’re all beginning to wonder if Eagle will ever get clear of her “Bivona’d” status. Either way, Bill has a home on the Enterprise if he wants it.

We returned to the club where conversations ran from fish size to anal leakage to the fact that Rogaine will grow hair on your butt (perhaps a cure for anal leakage.) We were all surprised at how much Kurt knew about anal leakage and the gluteus maximus effects of Rogaine, and, against my advice, Kurt did manage to bring his mother into that topic.

Meanwhile, I have notified the proper authorities regarding evidence that Jonathan has somehow manipulated his DNA and cloned himself into Lefty. Then again, we’ve never seen Jonathan and Lefty in the same place, and, if memory serves, Jonathan disappeared a year or two before Lefty joined us….

Scratch that. Even in the 23rd Century, no plastic surgeon could be that good.