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Saturday, May 13, 2006


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Anne Marie

And happy anniversary!

Steve the LLamabutcher

Lissa speaks Klingon?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Is there anything that woman doesn't know?

Scott, you are one damn lucky sonofabeyatch!

Steve the LLamabutcher

And what's this about you not liking Star Trek?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?


Lissa speaks Klingon?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
Is there anything that woman doesn't know?

How to appreciate Sonic Youth. And Shostakovich. But otherwise, that’s pretty much it. Oh, and she’s not so good at loading the dishwasher, but she’s killer at unloading it.

This tune here never fails to get her all choked up. It’s really a gorgeous language, innit?

Scott, you are one damn lucky sonofabeyatch!

Oh, ayuh. That I am. And it is indeed all luck. There’s no skill involved. I hit the lottery when I was born. (And not since, alas, although hope springs eternal—so eternal, in fact, that I don’t even bother to play, simply hoping that, like Earl, I’ll just find a winning lottery ticket plastered to my leg some windy day.

And what's this about you not liking Star Trek?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

I’ll let you in on a little secret. Top Management’s dad, Funny Grandpa, is actually one-sixteenth Klingon, hence Top Management’s ability to speak her native tongue; this also accounts for her complexion and why she’s so often mistaken for being of Mediterranean birth. So understandably Top Management would be less than completely enthused about how the original Star Trek has represented her people.

She likes the show, of course—how can anyone not?!—and she loves William Shatner—how can anyone not?!—but she’s always been more of a Star Wars gal (the original trilogy only, which is one of them few places where we part company opinionally). Although she has promised to dress up like one of Dr. McCoy’s nurses for Father’s Day, with the ginchy little short red skirt and holding a highball of Windex. [I’m told it’s currently scheduled for Father’s Day 2014; again with the eternal hope.]

As for me, how could I not like Star Trek? I mean, Captain Kirk is Batman, if Batman were born on a farm with a happy family life several hundred years in the future and wasn’t completely anti-social and obsessed but was instead a complete hound-dog.

Right? The good captain can do freakin’ anything. Oh, sure, he delegates taking care of the engine room to Mister Scott, but that’s only because there are so few babes down there—Jimmy could do it himself, he simply chooses not to. He could perform surgery as well as Dr. McCoy, especially since there’s no actual cutting involved at that point in the future, just waving a little mini-karaoke microphone over the injury. He could even beat Spock at his own game if he really wanted to. He always lies and he never tells the truth. He can do anything. Except lose—that’s the one thing it seems he cannot do, simply because he refuses to do so.

He’s Captain James Tiberius Kirk, the greatest man (and, not incidentally, ladies man) in the universe.

What’s not to like about that?


And why I love you so much right back: "a highball of Windex." Now that's good writing.

Also you made me cry.


And that's exactly how my son discovered and spent three years learning Klingon! (During a test in his computer class, he got bored, changed Google to Klingon and has since studied it to the point where he reads his copy of Hamlet... in Klingon.) Now tell me he isn't a kid after your own heart.

By the way, we are holding our breath as we wait to hear if he got into the local university where on his transcript for foreign language, we listed Klingon as his language and then included a list of twenty books related to linguistics that he read for "enjoyment." He's been working with constructed languages for four years now and shows no sign of abatement... all from one little Google toggle. Don't you love homeschool?



Samantha had her google page set to Elmer Fudd two years ago until I objected that my brain couldn't work that way. Clearly Samantha and Lissa are on the same wae length.

patty (awesmom on flickr)

I went right away and set my Google page to Bork! bork! bork! because it brings back fond memories of the Swedish chef. I was hoping my fifteen year old son would notice and comment, because no one else in the house uses Google. He hasn't yet, but I've surprised myself a couple times now...

Seemiler peges? Huh? What's that? Oh, yeah...bork bork bork. Cracks ME up every time.

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