Personal logs, delivery notes, survival warnings, music diaries, cleaning reports and official Eric Strudelhofen regulations from across the Space 2047 universe.
A regulation a day keeps democracy confused.
Citizens must salute small sandwiches because greatness often arrives in compact form.
All spoons must be admired for at least three seconds before use.
Anyone taller than Eric must crouch during official photographs.
They are friendly, affectionate and catastrophically bitey.
The MAAM delegation greeted the crew warmly, then tried to season Cedric.
Space Cheese distracts MAAM aliens for exactly nine seconds. Use those seconds wisely.
Karen has negotiated a treaty based on snacks, distance and shouting.
If the parcel is ticking, humming or politely asking for legal representation, do not sign for it.
Parcel asked to speak to my manager. I promoted Cedric temporarily and hid behind the cargo bay.
Delivered three crates of Space Cheese to Nouala. Eric immediately declared cheese a taxable emotion.
Took a shortcut through a wormhole and arrived before I had left. I still billed overtime.
The trick to surviving space is simple: never trust anything smiling with too many teeth.
If the galaxy ends, I would like it recorded that I warned everyone first.
Crew evacuated in six seconds. Brian returned for his moustache comb and ruined the average.
Cedric opened a crate labelled Definitely Not Dangerous. It was dangerous.
The cargo bay is not haunted. It is administratively unsettled.
A box marked Fragile bit the forklift. Forklift expected to recover emotionally.
Parcel 9B walked away. It left a forwarding address and a rude drawing.
The cheese has started humming. Gertrude says this is unhygienic.
Romance in space requires confidence, oxygen and a reliable escape pod.
If someone calls themselves irresistible, check for hidden tentacles and unpaid parking fines.
Three planets have requested diplomatic training after Susan winked at their ambassadors.
Never kiss an alien until you know where its mouth officially begins.
A guitar solo can solve many problems. Not legal problems, but many problems.
Recorded a song with the engine room. The chorus exploded beautifully.
My guitar picked up a distress call from a sandwich.
Misplaced guitar again. Suspect gravity, Brian, or a very ambitious cupboard.
Cleanliness is next to survivability.
Dust level reached 0.04%. Emergency mopping protocols activated.
Robot underpants discovered in vent shaft. Sanitisation ongoing.
Brian described the floor as clean enough. Brian has been reported.
A queen of the cosmos must remain calm, radiant and extremely suspicious.
Citizens of space, please stop naming moons after lunch items.
Eric Strudelhofen attempted to bow to himself in a mirror. Talks remain difficult.
I have reviewed Gerald’s latest song and declared it almost legal.
