Starfleet supply form 368.2

History of Universe Prime supplied by Ambassador Spock of New Vulcan on Stardate 2413.

In 2389, had the Kelvin not met with unfortunate disaster, the ship would have suffered through a routine supply mission to Verex III . Despite being openly disgusted by the slavery abundant upon the planet, Captain Robau would have handled the mission in his usual effective manner.  Nothing of excitement would have occurred (other than the Head of Security’s wife contacting the ship to elatedly inform her husband that their son had spoken his first complete sentence.) The Mission would have been successfully (if dully) completed. No other ship would have ventured to Verex III until 2154, when nine crew members were abducted from the Enterprise NX-01

Due to the regrettable destruction of the Kelvin in 2387, another starship was assigned the tedious supply run. However, First Officer Geslag  of the ISS Gaila seemed determined to make the trip memorable for the crew. He rented three of his crewmen and himself illicit Orion sex slaves for the night. Geslag and the three crewmen were court marshaled the following morning when Captain Elske discovered them in the middle of sexual relations in the ship’s recreational room.

First Officer Gelske and crewmen Bricks, S’live, and Tock have been dishonorably discharged.


A birth certificate from Verex III

The following is an excerpt from Quirkn T’malde’s autobiography, The Road to Freedom.

Now, it must have been just ten years after the Orion Underground Railroad began. Orion Hormone Suppressants were relatively new at that point, and they were a big help with keeping the girls nationality covert. Along with that, my husband and I would rub makeup the color of Terran skin onto the poor things, in hopes that they wouldn’t be noticed on the days when we had to hastily move them from one area to another.  Those that were allergic would be forced to wrap heavy swaths of cloth around their heads. Only their eyes could be seen, and the hope was that the obscuring shadows would keep a casual observer from discerning their true nationality.

One fiery red headed girl chose to wear this not because of allergies, but because of pride.

“It’s not that I don’t understand the point,” she declared apologetically. “but it feels like doing so would be an insult to my heritage – and I want to – have to – believe that my heritage is nothing to be ashamed of.”

Star Fleet Medical files

Poems written by the male (and occasionally female) population of Starfleet.

Gaila Amor Haiku

The green Gaila is so

beautiful, and she becomes

more so everyday

 

Ode to Gaila

Red hair

Sleek figure

Charming smile

Oh, won’t you be mine?

 

Proposition to the Green Girl

I would love to see

What you have under your skirt

And I know you would let me

My dorm, five o’clock?

 

Ahaha, I was just thinking earlier, about how I NEVER actually post to my livejournal, I just kind of abuse it for fanfiction and commenting/stalking purposes. And of course, this must be rectified, by boring talking about my life.

So first, a month or two ago, after eating my school prescribed whatever-the-hell-it-was, I got up, like the wonderful child I am, to throw away my trash. I came back, and my book bag was gone.

What. The fuck.

After checking under the all of the chairs and tables, and sending my friends on their ways so they weren't late, I began the long, perilous journey to the principals office (all the while quietly worrying that they would call me a liar and send me back to class, effectively earning me a detention for skipping.)

The woman in the office sent me back with recruits to help look for it.

And where was my book bag, you may ask? In the boy's bathroom. In a puddle of water. Missing such worthwhile item's as: a poptart wrapper, a tampon, a broken pen, and some index cards.

So now: my favorite comic book's cover is falling off, my Latin text has such bad water damage that I need to pay to replace it, the ink for note's on a huge project I was doing with a group (I being the one trusted to keep them) is bleeding, and all of my folder's are dead, dead, dead.

This, made me sad, you see?

Tuesday, I went to the dentists. That in and of itself isn't anything to complain about. I like the dentists. They give me free stuff.

While I sat in the waiting room, I noticed that they had some coloring books and crayons available.

Oh. Hell. Yes.

And then I broke their blue crayon.

This apparently pissed them off verily, as I was then told, that despite my age being fifteen, all four of my incisors are still baby. And it would really be a wise thing to take a trip to the orthodontists, you know?

Because I trust my dentist, I did as they said.

At the orthodontists, I was informed that because my adult incisors couldn't find their way out of a wet paper bag, the course of action will be the following:

First, spend 4100 US dollars on braces.
Second, get all four teeth pulled.
Then, if the teeth don't get their fucking directionally challenged asses down, an oral surgeon will go into my mouth and pull the motherfuckers into place.

Owwwwwwwwwwwww. This is gonna be painful y'all. So, so, painful.

Somebody hold meeee.

Also, I have been listening to

<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MvZ2d4FBkM8&feature=channel_page">THIS</a>

for the past week or so. Idk, it's slightly amazing.

You test my loyalty with this question. You test it fiercely. On the one hand, I am an avid Pastafarian. I worship the FSM and his many noodly appendages. He is my god, my lord; and he says pirates are awesome-tastic, and that there is a statistically significant inverse between pirates and average global temperature. Pirates go down, temp goes up. Coincidence? I think not.
Besides there's a graph showing this, and if there's one thing I've learned at school, it's that the person with graphs is ALWAYS RIGHT. Except for the guys on the laundry detergent commercials. Those guys always lie.

Now ninjas...I love ninjas for their pure awesomeness. I loved them before Naruto, and before Pirates of the Caribbean. My thought process was something like this "OMG THEY CAN JUMP AND SWING. THEY'RE LIKE SPIDER-MAN ONLY THEY WHERE BLACK, WHICH IS LIKE VENOM (WHO HAD A BETTER COSTUME THEN SPIDEY ANYWAYS) ONLY THEY'RE NOT ALWAYS EVIL. PLUS, PLUS, PLUS, I BET THEY USED TO WATCH ANIME."

Yeah, I was a smart kid.

So which do I pick? My faith, my dogma, my gospel? Or my pure guilty, giddy pleasure?

The answer: Both. Cause I'm badass like that, and I'm totally a rebel.

PINJAS FO LIFE.

So, figured I should do this, cause it's Twelve thirty at night and I do have Writers Block, IdoIdoIdo.

First, I want to know HOW THE HELL DID I GET WEALTHY? Because honestly, I am completely lazy. When did I start doing work? Hold up, who was I blackmailing, and what with? I need to know my future you see, so I can make sure I don't go wimpy and let them off after slight embarrassment.

Okay, I'm rich. Filthy rich, considering it was from blackmail. And probably extortion and embezzlement and all other sorts of neat stuff, 'cause no way did I work for this money.

WHERE DO I GO? The Cayman Islands would probably be a good idea. I hear people embezzle money into banks over their all the time. Okay, so I was watching Boston Legal, that's totally a reliable source of information. Personally, I like the sound of the Bermuda Triangle. I could be the Bad Luck Mistress. 

Ooh. I know what I'd do now. I'd buy an Island. An Evil Island. And yes, I know those went out of style years ago. It would still be fabulous. And instead of calling it an Evil Island, all of my minions (And I will have Minions. There will always be an even amount too. Can't be odd.) and the tourists will call it an Evil Isle. Actually, the tourists might just call it PumperNickel Pajama Bam.

And do you know what my electrical source would be? Turkeys. Thousands of them. And I will split them in half. One half will be called Clyde, and the other half Bonita. Clyde will be fed cucumbers and alcohol (a rum of some sort. Or maybe cooking sherry. Whichever is cheaper. I am a stingy rich person.). Bonita will survive off of cantaloupe and fruit punch.

Out of all of the turkeys, there will be one named Lydia. Lydia will be given everything she could ever desire. She will get massages. Special food. Marijuana if she wants. And I will watch the other turkeys begin to hate her. I will watch her be ostrisized. Become a pariah. And Lydia will become stuck up and obnoxious. And then I'll switch her for one of the other turkeys. NO LONGER WILL SHE BE SPECIAL.

Yup.

And then I'll probably die in some terribly anti-climactic skiing accident in Fiji.

THE END. Or is it?

So....Hi? This feels awkward.

I don't normally keep journals (RL or internet). Basically because I don't really like talking about myself. I'm not too interesting of a person. Sure, I talk a ton. Most people would be amazed at the sheer amount of TALKING ABOUT USELESS CRAP I do.

SRSLY.

Give me a word. Tell me to rant.

I will.

Oh god, I WILL.

*maniacal laughter is heard*

I am such a dork.

So, I should probably tell you guys the things that might offend you. Just in case you want to be my friend, and then you find something out and you are like "OMG GO AWAY DEVIL CHILD."

(...don't laugh. that has happened before...)

1. I am a Cynical Agnostic. So cynical, in fact, that I generally just say I'm an atheist.

2. I LIEK FOODZ. A LOT. AND MEAT. A LOT. I don't mind if you're a vegan or a vegetarian. At all. But if you want to try to convert me...well....I have veg friends in real life. They have tried. And FAILED. And trust me, you will not be able to mentally scar me like these peeps have.

3. I like manga. And anime. And fanfiction too. I am like the ultimate dork in that regard.

4. I love kids and animals. ALL ANIMALS.
Except turkeys. But, duckies, that is another story for another day.

5. I use pet names. I generally try to screen my use when I'm talkin'  to random internet people, but if I call you honey or dear, no worries, kay?

6. Gay people are great. That is all.

7. If I say something that rubbed you the wrong way, be assured that it's just me sticking my foot in my mouth, I don't mean to insult....Unless of course, you earned it, or I have a reason. But if it seems as if  something I say is mean, it probably just good-natured teasing.

8. I bite.