TNG Caption This! #437: Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!

Picard: This is my house!

 

Troi: I'm sorry Reg, I only date men with this much junk.

 

Riker: You're right sir. These uniforms do hide our.. er, do make us appear as if we are not anatomically correct.



Data thinks: She is going to say something about my hairline. I know she is.



Deanna: If broccoli is one of you're favourite foods, I don't see what the problem is.



Picard: So did you want the blonde or the brunette?



Picard: So did they work our an agreement with you?
Worf: (sighs) Indeed.
Picard: Well then, why aren't you happy?
Worf: I hate wearing leather chaps. They chaff in the worst places when you don't wear anything under them.
..

 

"I don't understand the problem. You said you wanted to discuss your sexual frustrations, so I figured what would be more appropriate than a counselor in a low-cut catsuit sitting in front of a bush and next to Risian cock on a pedestal."

 

Barclay: "Are those boots leather?

Troi: "Yes, and really tight against my soft skin."

Barclay: "OMG!"

 

Riker: We all fart captain but why must you always insist on raising your leg?

 

PICARD: Have you met young Picard? He's basically you on steroids. He has all your moves and makes them work.



RIKER: Data crashed again?
TROI: I already tried ctrl-alt-DEL.
PICARD: Just reboot him and let's get it over with.



TROI: No really, I'm flattered by your holodeck recreation of me. It's just a matter of not doing it during duty hours.
BARCALAY: Is there any other counselor on this ship?



TASHA: All I want is one of those standing desk thingies.
PICARD: Aesthetics before comfort Tash.



PICARD: Wow. Nice...
WORF: Yup. I hit that.

 

Stewart, Sirtis and Frakes: *sniff*

Spiner: Second officer's log: Geordi's gas problem has inspired a new social project. I have given myself a flatulence problem to help me observe people's observations. I have hypothesized that Worf would snap in about...

 

That running gag thing was fun last week, bless you all and the lead of heads!




Riker: So what does an operations officer actually do? I mean, we treat Data as basically the science guy, we never see him doing any... operational stuf.

Picard: Look, I was told I had to have the walking dildo aboard, I'll be damned if I give him an actual important position.

Data: I would be upset if not for the fact this is the most comfortable seat on the bridge.





Director: Cut! Spiner, we're going to have to move you, you're covering up what we pay Marina to bring to the show.





Troi: No, it's not your fault he wouldn't get on that plane.





Stewart: So you don't want my autograph, despite being the lead of the show and a shining light of the RSC. You want the autograph of the two time New Adventures of Superman guest star? And you want her to sign her Playboy spread?




Picard:Trust me Mr. Worf, you made the right decision, a true Star Fleet officer is married to their ship.

Worf: ...

 

Picard: So they still said no to a three-way, or four, whatever, even after you told them you end up sleeping with each of them separately, and later you marry an alien dude?
Worf: It's not a dude!
Picard: You mean, later, when you get married.
Worf: OF COURSE!
Picard: But he's a dude now, though...?
Worf: !@#$%

 

Picard: Shut up.

 

Riker loses yet another staring contest challenge, thus again failing to advance in rank according to Starfleet rules.


Picard: No, wait. Let's not put up our shields yet. We don't want to appear threatening to the Murderdeathkillians.

 

Thanks for the win!


Picard: Hold on, lieutenant, I can't hear over the advert.
Yar, scoffing: It's an anti-smoking PSA. Like TAR ever killed anyone

 

Picard: "... with our species, the one's with the round mammaries are female."

Alien (os): "So, the big one in the red uniform?"

 

Picard: Make her blow!

 

New Contest is up!