Still here...not for lack of trying.

So, I had given up on the idea of writing this ridiculous farce of a chronicle, but since my various attempts to leave this planet - this festering wound of a world lying in an a polluted salt bath of an ocean that will never quite cleanse it - have failed miserably, I have decided to lower myself to once again address the mindless few who read this revolting language.

Whoever invented television commercials should be vaporized into a cloud of gas and injected into a room full of snozzlepogs to be snorted up and broken down into their constituent plezzy particles inside the rodents' bladders. Even that's too good for these people. Stories of cultures that subjected their members to this form of torture have been made legend in the Ancient Galactic Chronicles. Without exception, each culture's end came soon and in the most hideous of ways. And without exception, the members of the culture found it a welcome relief. At this stage of programming, I give Earth twenty cycles at most before blessed war brings an end to the horrors of small print and deep-voiced vehicle sellers.

On another topic, I found a piece of paper attached to my earth vehicle this morning. I do not know where it had come from - I don't remember ordering it. Annoyingly enough, I had already entered the vehicle and was in the process of engaging the drive engine when I discovered it. I had to stop the vehicle, exit, and remove the paper before continuing. Apparently, the paper belonged to a Mr. Wong who likes to cook and provides free egg rolls to complete strangers. I have kept this document in case it becomes important at a later date, or if Mr. Wong comes looking for it.

I got my first communication from the network today. It was an invitation to a solar bathing blessing that my third mother was hosting on Vino Prime Velast. I didn't even know she had procured a new sun. I know she had been trying but such things are seldom accomplished quickly with the type of legislation that is passing the Frennian Council these cycles. I don't know how many forms I had to fill in to gain access to the Frennian personal biological waste facility before I was finally allowed to go. That was a painful but most needed visit. The type of digital work it takes to explode a sun must be horrendous; especially on Vino Prime Velast - there are twenty-six indigenous life forms on the closest planet alone. Proving that these lifeforms are worthless in order to gain eminent domain over their solar system can sometimes be gruelling.

Anyway, I hope she and her friends have fun and link lots of pictures to the network because the chances of me attending are as slim as a baby Grenolian's bottom not stinking after a three moon drag through the Gnaaar fields of spew.