Labor Day

I'm learning to enjoy this weekend thing. This weekend was longer then usual, due to Labor day, which seems to be a poor choice of words. On my planet on a day of labor, we are all expected to build nine robots, cook twenty-seven meals, and wrestle a Garodean bison. Apparently the people on this planet consider eating food to be a labor. Well, they do have to cook it. They don't have robots to do it for them.

I went out to a BBQ, where I waited in line for two hours to eat some animal called a pig. Everyone in line took five minutes to decide they did want a hot dog, and everyone in line forever to figure out what the dishes were. Come on, mac and cheese is mac and cheese. It should be obvious. Plus, watermelon doesn't look like apples, oranges, or ham. No one needs to stare at it for minutes while everyone waits to decide if it's watermelon. It's not Turkish delight, although it does look like safaleon meat, but they don't have those on this planet. Hey, on my planet if you make people wait for their food, you become food. Just kidding, but you do get fifty lashes with a noodl plant.

I hope your labor day better then in the promethieum mines of Tarson IV.

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