Friday, November the 8th, 2030



We lucked out and one of our guerrilla patrols shot a deer. We managed to get it under cover before one of the Green Rangers spotted us. They'll probably find the entrails and have a conniption fit.



It fills my heart with glee to imagine one of the greenbellies going loony because we weren't the 'authorized culling personnel'. Let us catch one of them alone and they'll be finding his entrails a few days from now. It turns out the Overstreet family froze to death a couple of nights ago because they had run out of carbon credits. The greenbellies confiscated their stove and heater to keep them from burning illegally. If I wasn't so pissed off I might laugh at the irony of people freezing to death to prevent 'global warming'.



On a brighter side, one of the transfers from Gamma has a crush on me. He's a good looking fellow who doesn't mind that I'm 'used goods'.



More later. Power's fluctuating.



