Personal logs, delivery notes, survival warnings, music diaries, cleaning reports and official Eric Strudelhofen regulations from across the Space 2047 universe.
Every galaxy has a key. Unfortunately, mine is slightly out of tune.
Invented a new genre called panic funk. Karen says it already existed whenever I enter a room.
Recorded a song with the engine room. The chorus exploded beautifully.
Misplaced guitar again. Suspect gravity, Brian, or a very ambitious cupboard.
Cleanliness is next to survivability.
Robot underpants discovered in vent shaft. Sanitisation ongoing.
Sixteen teacups entered low orbit. Recovery net deployed.
Dust level reached 0.04%. Emergency mopping protocols activated.
Nouala is free, provided everyone does exactly what I say before I say it.
Citizens must salute small sandwiches because greatness often arrives in compact form.
Laughing without a permit is allowed only on alternate Wednesdays.
Any suspicious pastry is property of the state until I have finished eating it.
A queen of the cosmos must remain calm, radiant and extremely suspicious.
I have reviewed Gerald’s latest song and declared it almost legal.
Eric Strudelhofen attempted to bow to himself in a mirror. Talks remain difficult.
Brian means well, which is often how trouble begins.
They are friendly, affectionate and catastrophically bitey.
Brian survived MAAM territory by pretending his moustache was an endangered species.
Do not accept hugs from anything with more than two elbows and a bib.
The MAAM delegation greeted the crew warmly, then tried to season Cedric.
If the parcel is ticking, humming or politely asking for legal representation, do not sign for it.
My moustache was mistaken for a diplomatic flag by a traffic warden moon. Negotiations remain itchy.
Collected vinegar near the event horizon. Lost two chips, one receipt and most of Tuesday.
Parcel asked to speak to my manager. I promoted Cedric temporarily and hid behind the cargo bay.
The cargo bay is not haunted. It is administratively unsettled.
Found one moon, two spoons and a small legal department behind the emergency biscuits.
A box marked Fragile bit the forklift. Forklift expected to recover emotionally.
The cheese has started humming. Gertrude says this is unhygienic.
The trick to surviving space is simple: never trust anything smiling with too many teeth.
Crew evacuated in six seconds. Brian returned for his moustache comb and ruined the average.
If the galaxy ends, I would like it recorded that I warned everyone first.
Eric Strudelhofen has made breathing paperwork-adjacent. Avoid official buildings.
A kiss can stop a war, start a war, or make Brian walk into a door.
Never kiss an alien until you know where its mouth officially begins.
Three planets have requested diplomatic training after Susan winked at their ambassadors.
Brian attempted charm. Medical bay recommends rest and fewer eyebrows.
