Personal Log. Commodore Jonathan Ludwig. 03.31.3001.
Yesterday we hitched our rig at Chinook Delta to paw us up some supplies for our mega-righteous deep-space excursion. Dr. Leary said he knew of a brilliant botanist that could hook us up with what he called "a little herbal remedy". When I pushed for the 411 on these buds, he said it would make J-Lud one mellowed out hombre, which I took to mean that it was a treatment for relaxation and stress reduction. I laid out some greenbacks for fifteen pounds hoping to share with my home-boys on the Liberace. Don't want my posse gettn' the sweats if we have a showdown with any low-downs.
Last night the Doc and I sampled a little of this herb to test out its meditative properties. It didn't seem to have much of an effect on myself, but then again, I've always been more virile and effervescent than your average man.
The Doctor and I thought it necessary to inform Chief Engineer Ped Varook, our vivacious Cretian exchange officer, of this herb as we were curious of its effects on a female of a different species. Dr. Leary also had questions about Cretian anatomy for his medical records. Unfortunately she was in a totally heinous mood. Maybe it's her time of the galactic month' if you know what I'm sayn'.
This morning I felt no ill effects of the herb though J-Lud's got one odious case of the munchies. I think there's a Popeye's on the K'un D'hor outpost. We can cruise on in for some hot wings and slap em' back with a little gin n' juice. Got my mind on some munchies and some munchies on my mind.
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