Saturday, August 25, 2007
Day 2, Meteo.
We barely function as a fighting unit. The chaps spend most of their time calling for help or, in the case of Falco, shooting open rocks and acting as if he's saved my life. Some trouble with the radio - the chaps' banter seems deucedly hard to follow. Will give pep talk tonight after tea (broth again). Destroyed vanguard of space fleet. Crossword and bed.
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6 comments:
Somethings wrong with the G-Diffuser
It's quiet. Too quiet.
Here comes a big one!
They're on me! I'm getting careless!
I guess it's your turn to be thankful.
Whoah! Can you make it?
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