Him: I presume you were injured.
Her: Huh?
Him: It is logical to presume you were injured… when you rapidly accelerated downward from Sha Ka Rhee.
It is a logical assumption that your lower extremeties are physically enervated, given that I have visualized you engaged in the act of moving very quickly on foot throughout the duration of the current nocturnal period.
Launching probe into the Game Room, from MPSIMS.
Forgive my lapse of logic, but I find your appearance to be aesthetically pleasing.
I have deduced that your male parent is likely guilty of theft. He has appropriated stellar matter for use as decorative embelishment of your visual organs. Preliminary study suggests VY Canis Majoris and VV Cephei A were relocated as such.
singing
I question why avians abruptly materialize themselves in this location every time you are in close proximity?
In a similar manner as me, they have a great desire
To have minimal distance between our humanoid forms.
“Is that a Type 3 Disruptor in your regulation slacks, or do you feel an illogical emotional response to my arrival?”
“May the deity that your species worships look favorably upon the genetic matriarch of your family.”
“While it is quite possible that upon initial observance one might assume that my blood alcohol content, or B.A.C. is highly elevated to a point far beyond legal norms, possibly due to the ingestion of a large quantity of Romulan ale, the truth of the matter is that your presence and physical proximity to myself has caused a profound, and most puzzling state of psychosomatic inebriation affecting me in a similar manner.”
I have found a deficiency in my personal wireless communications device. It appears it lacks the combination of numbers necessary to contact you.
^:dubious:^
(this is very addictive, BTW…)
You are invited to assume a seated position upon the platform created by my lower extremities. We may then discuss an initial topic determined by the first observed involuntary reaction this produces.
Please follow all combustion extinguishing techniques as quickly as possible, for you are now experiencing a spontaneous combustion reaction.
*(How about the Star Trek version of a Monty Python pick-up line:
“My shuttle craft is full of tribbles.”
Maybe not.)*
I have observed a fascinating correlation between an event that nearly causes my death, and an intense requirement to release my genetic material, it is not logical, but with Captain Kirk in command it is frequently true.
I have been, and always shall be… your friend… with benefits.
Please explain what arbitrary category you are assigned to by your chosen system of superstition so that I may explain how said system indicates that we should mate.
May I inquire if your pants are from beyond our atmosphere, as unlikely as that may be, because I find you callipygian.
A basic statistical analysis indicates that, if I simply ask humanoids of the opposite gender if they wish to fuck me, a certain percentage, greater than zero, will accede. So how about it?
Is that not the correct vernacular?
I have a nonrational system of ethics and spirituality that is based on my corporeal being; would you care to subscribe to it?
I am actually of a somewhat smaller stature. I am sitting on the device that contains my monetary units.
The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one. Therefore, you should indulge the desire of my friend and I for menage a trois.
PS–Anyone else figuring that there has to be a good “vulcanized rubber” joke out there but not able to come up with it?
My prophylactic device is from the home planet.