"Alright, Commander. I know you have my Engelbert Humperdinck mixtape. Hand it over...and we won't have to get ship's security and the Daystrom Institute involved in this."
"NO!!!!!!!!!!!!
Dammit, I was just a few seconds from climax!!!"
TNG Caption This #132 - "The Running Joke"
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"Alright, Commander. I know you have my Engelbert Humperdinck mixtape. Hand it over...and we won't have to get ship's security and the Daystrom Institute involved in this."
"NO!!!!!!!!!!!!
Dammit, I was just a few seconds from climax!!!"
Yes, you can have your own ship to command as you please. But first you must snatch the pebble from my hand, Grasshopper.
Sir. I must point out that there is no pebble, but in fact your hand is empty.
Ah, a simple-minded response. And this is why there is no ship for you, Grasshopper. GO TO OPS!
"Do I really have to give Commander Data regular access to my personal lavatory and shower? These newfangled 'android rights' rules are going TOO FAR."
Drunken sex with a plasma power socket never leads to anything good.
PICARD: Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio, a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. He hath bore me on his back a thousand times, and now how abhorr'd in my imagination it is! My gorge rises at it.
DATA: First, my name is Data. Second that's Ensign Jensen's skull and third Dr. Crusher wants it returned to sickbay.
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PICARD: Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio, a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. He hath bore me on his back a thousand times, and now how abhorr'd in my imagination it is! My gorge rises at it.
DATA: First, my name is Data. Second that's Ensign Jensen's skull and third Dr. Crusher wants it returned to sickbay.
Damn you! I was sitting on my own skull pic for that joke. That'll teach me to bust out the South Park gag first.
Picard: "Data, you might want to turn it down a little."
First pic: Picard: "What do you, the viewer at home, think?"
Can't think of anything for the second yet.
Can't think of anything for the second yet.
Picard: "It appears the shuttle is trapped inside a giant female space alien. I'll lead the rescue party."
Data: "Then the jacket..."
Picard: "Yes... ribbed for her pleasure."
Picard: "I asked for a Golden shower dammit, Golden!!"
Hair gel, you say?
Mr Data, can you explain why I found Blinky dead in a puddle of his own vomit?
"Mister Data has NEVER tried to make inappropriate sexual moves on a toaster. Why would someone say something like that?!"
Transporter Orgasm.
First diagnosed in 2168. Unbe-fricking-lievable always.
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