Brandon--Death by Bratwurst

Day 81: Slept surprisingly well last night, considering that I've been stranded on this moon longer than it took for Phileas Fogg to travel around the world. I've officially run out of spaghetti and beef stew MREs, so now I'm going to be stuck with bratwurst, tuna and bean burritos until I run out and die on this rock. Don’t ask me why we packed bratwurst MREs; there weren’t any Germans in my freaking crew, so I don’t have a clue. Don’t even get me started on the tuna meals. Last time I tried it, I threw it up while on the training gyroscope back at NASA. Its actual taste is sorta like tuna, I suppose. It reminds me of elementary school cafeteria tuna, except they managed to make it remarkably more terrible. It doesn’t feel like tuna in your mouth. It’s like tuna pudding. The worst part: IT COMES WITH TORTILLAS. I’m not against tortillas or anything, but you just don’t eat tuna tacos in my book. You use tilapia for a fish taco. End of story. I think I’ll pass on tuna for breakfast. I’ve never had the bean burrito, so I guess I’ll chow on that for the most important meal of the dizzle. Burrito Update: It was a marginally edible brick. The goods news is that I can use one as a weapon if any aliens pop out and test my temper. Then again, if guns don't work too well on Predator, I'm not sure if a burrito will do well. I'll just feed it to the alien, and it'll probably flee in terror. I should’ve saved a spaghetti MRE for my last supper. I used to think that the best thing about shipwrecking on a moon 12 parsecs away from Earth is the night sky. It sounds beautiful and all, but this moon orbits a black hole, so it's nighttime all freakinday. The only light I get is from distant galaxies. Majestic as the sky may be, I still miss the radiance of the good ole’ Sol. Imagine a child growing up on this planet? They'd have a nightmare trying to draw the sky in crayon. Back on Terra, you just draw the sky with a orange semicircle in the horizon, maybe a cloud if you're feeling frisky, and exactly 7 v-shaped birds. If I somehow survive this, I definitely have to boogie down to the beach and get some vitamin dizzle. There was another moonquake. I don't know much about space tectonics, but this is the second one in the past 13 hours. I wasn’t sure before, but they’re occurring at shorter intervals. And every time, I swear they’re gaining intensity. I hope it's not a Kaiju. I really gotta hand it to JPL; they really thought a lot of things through. The spare oxygen generator came in handy after the main one broke down when I accidentally kicked it while doing exercise. Just another reason to hate exercise. Seriously though, the ship remained perfectly intact after the crash. The impact wasn’t really so bad, except for the whole part where I’m the only surviving crew member. I especially miss Captain Organa. I wouldn’t mind sharing MREs with her, as long as she took her fair share of tuna. Emergency landing airbags and seatbelts could’ve used a little more attention. But I am grateful that the construction of the ship wasn’t offshored to China or something. Day 82: I was just awakened early by another quake. This one was some San Andreas kind of business. I’m going to eat some Bratwurst for breakfast, put on my suit, and check out what happened. I urinated in my spacesuit about 11 minutes into my adventure and dipped to record my findings. These definitely were not moonquakes. About 3 kilometers out, there’s a crater with a giant, luminescent egg. I’m going to change my underwear, listen to Adele, and return to the crater. I really don’t want to go, but if there’s something out there, then it’s my responsibility to report it. If anyone finds this, and I don’t log another entry, then don’t go towards the crater. End of Journal