The Diary of Doctor Beverly Crusher

Chief Medical Officer's Log

Stardate 98004598

Well the kerfuffle about that whole Janeway thing has died down, but it had some wearying and troublesome consequences. Firstly, one or two gossip blogs were all over the whole thing, getting all blah blah blah Admiral embarrassed and raking over the past essentially. Then some of the self-appointed investigative journalists-cum-stalkers-slash-saddos who make up the blogosphere started looking into the whole thing, i.e. at yours truly, which led them to even more muck-raking about how it wasn't the first time I'd created headaches for a high ranking individual. End result: lots of blogging about Arseface Worf and that video the two of us made that lost him the vice-Chancellorship of the Klingon Empire.

Stupid video. My ass looks huge.

Anyhow, with all this going on, a very annoyed Arseface comes a-knocking at my door being all wah wah loss of honour and annoyed and bitching about how its MY FAULT because my Janeway remarks caused all hoo-hah and how way back when it was my idea to grab the holo-recorder and upload it and whatever, fuck you Worf, I was inebriated anyhow. If he'd had any balls he would've said “No doctor, it is a bad idea to do that, as it is easy to forget to click the option that makes a recording private, and may I say that you look radiant when you sit there with your fiery hair and a pearlescent sheen to your skin, sipping whisky in responsible quantities.” and stopped me, instead of just lying there beaming about how it was the best night of his life. Ass.

I just wanted to get rid of him because I had a throbbing headache, so I said if there was anything I could do to change the past or make it easier for him, I would, because I'm nice like that. Unfortunately, he took me up on the offer and we're now booked for a 6-day trip to Qu'onos to partake in some sort of ritual that'll absolve us of our sins and lift the dishonour that has been cast upon him. Whatever. Anything to get him off my back, even though I hate all that Klingon shit. Goes on FOREVER and I can't understand a word of it. I have to wear some ridiculous bright red outfit that just looks awful with my hair, with some dumbass corset so my tits are basically hoisted up beneath my chin. I don't know why he didn't just do this years ago after the initial scandal anyhow. He's such a retard. I've met smarter microbial lifeforms.

And speaking of things microbial, Riker popped in the other day for his erection meds. I lied and told him they were still being reviewed by Starfleet medical for possible long-term side effects. He enquired about alternate prescriptions but I told them all the other ones available would clash with his hair-restoration pills. He left feeling very dejected. Second month with no stiffies. Ha ha, fuck you Deanna, you horny bitch.