Our schedules finally synched up last night.
"Vegetable sprouts, bitches."
"I love you, but don't carve that in bacon, yet."
"Jim. Bacon eater."
"What?...No, I don't have pants on fire!"
"I love you, except for one thing."
(Alarmed) "You're covered in bears!"
"Uh? What? Adom?"
"Can I have some water?"
"Bring it in my gray cup."
(Falls asleep.) "Y'...y'know why?"
"Because it's the One Ring of cups. The Rick James of cups."
"There are no problems on the space station that can't be solved by drop kicking...This is a drop kick house."
(Dorian grabs my chest.)
Dorian: "Hm. I've found a D-class planet."
Me, dryly: "Yes. Double D, at that."
Dorian: "Hmm. Uninhabitable. I think I need to terraform it. With my penis."
Me: *Horrified look*
(Oh, yeah, can't wait until my father reads this entry.)
"This is full of balloons. Not like a Bajoran. Which is full of boring."
"Cute like a mouse. A little mouse...." A moment, passes, and in a very high, cute voice, he says: "Squeak!"
"Put the wig on. Get into the flying box."
I'm not sure what to think of this one. All of the implications are troubling.
(Rolls over, grabs my butt.) "Hm. Not Jim. Jim isn't mostly in Pennsylvania."
Dorian: "No! I'm reading it right now. I have to ship these orders out for movement! I'm doing it now!"
(Akhim, who has not yet been fed, mewls at the foot of the bed.)
Me: "I gotta go feed the fuzzbutt."
Dorian: "He's just pissed because he's no longer a solid."
Me: "What was he before? A gas?" (He shakes his head.) "A liquid?" (Head shake.) "Plasma?"
Dorian: "A Founder! Like Odo."
Me: "...You really have been watching too much Star Trek lately."
Dorian: "...Fire photon torpedoes."