A little goofiness while I work.

I need a bit of distraction as I take a crowbar to my head and force the words out, since they don’t seem to feel like playing, this morning.

Anyway, pretend for a moment that you’re living in the Star Trek universe.

I understand that there are those of you reading this right now who are thinking, “What’s he talking about? Aren’t we there, already?” Work with me, all right?

A family member or friend goes on vacation–again, somewhere in the Star Trek universe–and naturally they bring you back a souvenir. The problem is that it’s a sucky gift. You know, one of those cheap knickknacks that someone bought at an airport (spaceport?) gift shop because they remembered you at the last possible minute before their flight, and they only remembered you because you’re the one who’s meeting them at the air/spaceport. A bottle of decent local vodka would be asking too much, so instead they bring you something like this:

VulcanSnowman

Okay, your turn: Hit me with your best bad ideas.

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