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"Captain's Blog, Stardate: 30978.21/2 and some few seconds..."
4 Comments - Show Original Blog
Are you doing Scotty? Or writing like William Faulkner? Doesn't matter, I can't understand anything but Klingon, as I have mentioned before.
I could speak German at one time but that went out of fashion. I tried French, but I hated escargot and all the extra letters they put in their wordeses.
I love a bi-lingual man though. Say something else...something provocative.
I'd like to respond, but I kahnt change the laws of physics. Ayev gaht tah have thirty minutes!
Get off my private blog site, Spock. I don't go over on your blog and...oh, wait. I do, right? I forgot. Okay, so, you made some good points there what with Scotty and the tribbles and Dilithium crystals and Bones and Nurse Chapel (how's that little scenario going, by the way? Made any headway into her nether regions as yet? I'll keep my fingers crossed for a good outcome on that mission.)
I also want you to know I am faithfully keeping up on your fanfiction story about the 50 shades of an Orion Slave Girl saga you have posted under a pseudonym. (I know it's you, so don't try to weasle out of it...) I especially like chapter 132. I left a review, of course. The sex was hot and steamy. Didn't know you had it in you, Spoke. Maybe if Nurse Chapel knew you could write like that?
Well, that's you business.
Just like high-grade Vensuian Vingleblatt weed is mine. Enough said.
We can detect cloaked Romulan vessels as you know. Something about an Ion trail but I wasn't really listening to you when you blathered on about it that day.
I will have you know, Sir...Clingons have (or even Klingons) NEVER gotten anywhere near my Uranus. I'm not that kind of Captain.
As for wings on my ship? If I want wings on my ship, I shall have them, First! I am in command here. Always have been, always will be! (until the next generation of vapid, banal Earthers decide they need another more youthful set of bold, uninhibited explorers to venture forth into ...the final frontier.
Spock here, Captain Quirk. Permit me to clarify a few possible misapprehensions you have set forth in the captain's log. Engineering Officer Scott was actually saying "I canna hold it much longer...", which rather than alluding to certain 'other' services he may or may not have been presumed to render; he was merely stating the status of his bladder, given his fondness for that evil green Saurian decoction he is so partial to (it is easy to perceive that his statement may also have been misread as a status report on the Dilithium crystals in the Warp Drive engines, a difficulty that may rather quickly be resolved via Interstellar Hyperspace Lithotripsy).
Medical Officer 'De-forested' Kelly can easily attest to Scott's chronic bladder situation, which at one point (out in the Promethium Nebulae) went from bladder to worse, sad to say. [Please don't say "You've got be kidney, Spockie..." since I am not prone to wanton jocularity, as you well know, but those afflicted by wee-wee bladder syndrome and kidney inflammation are usually stoned…again readily curable by a therapeutic lithotripsy procedure.]
As for our mission, your own fondness for high-grade Venusian Vingleblatt weed seems to have disoriented you briefly. The last part of your oft-repeated Starfleet mission quote is actually "...to blithely blunder noisily forth where millions of vapid, banal Earth television viewers have vapidly tramped before", as you surely must recognise by now?
And those “…things on the wing of the plane, you mentioned you saw after a particular voluminous ingestion of Vingleblatt?” I suspect they were either vagrant Tribbles or cloaked Romulan dribblets, resultant from Scott’s having taken an unauthorized whiz out the engine room airlock, while divesting himself of stray anal Clingons (out near Uranus). To see this otherwise would be highly illogical, Captain, since as we both know, the USS Entericpoop does not have winglet control surfaces (as such devices are useless in non-atmospheric space environments).
Live lively and perspire, Captain. Spock out.
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