Greetings from Sirius B! It's precisely 42 degrees here, although the light is deceivingly warm. The holiday sales here are absolutely celestial, knocking the earthly Black Fridays into a supernova. Don't worry about the time difference; it's irrelevant when rotation ceases to be the norm.
Came across a little place on Jupiter called Constantly Clouded Café. The service here is quick, assuming you can grasp the gravity of your choices. Iridescence coffee is its own planet of flavor, but try not to mix drinks with moons—unhallowed space is hard to navigate when caffeine-induced lunacy kicks in.
Here on Pluto, it's not the size that matters, but the heart of the cosmos. Despite the chilly reception from the astronomers, we embrace our own kind of movement—plutonic dancing beneath the ice. Send your earthlies regards to the sun; it doesn't shine here, but warmth of irony keeps us cozy.