First Log.

Date August 22nd, 1968.

Hello.

I'm writing this log to heat myself sane.

Couldn't find a way to do the most basic thing on this old

junkie butt computer so that Desmond added in a log feature that is.

So now I've been adding my own notes to the Beastiary, however.

My brother said I should keep a journal, so I'm doing what I can.

I'm writing in a professional manner, so these logs could become a historical record as they'll probably

be here for years just as long as there isn't a clean wipe. That's what Desmond said.

If you're reading it in the future, you're probably from another crew, the turnover right here is enormous.

Because this job sucks, everyone turns over dead.

Maybe I can give some help when I have some experience.

Our names are Sigurd, me.

Richard Desmond.

Jess.

Smells here. August 24th.

It suits squeezing me like I'm a gosh damn mummy.

My grown man, give me some space.

Between the legs, it's killing me, I'm dying.

Hope you're happy, Dad. I finally got a job.

Screw you.

...