The frustration and disappointment in life you suffer from the man of your dreams being an old geezer on death's door is quite evident. While it does warm my heart a bit to be so desired, I am kinda grateful the Grand Director of this production has made it unlikely we will ever meet, as I have some experience with crazy chicks, and prefer a nice quiet exit from the stage.<quoted text>
Does *anyone* really pay any attention to what Dave Nelson says?
He's a dork!!
He sits around all day long, telling himself what an objective genius he is with all the answers to life's questions, wearing his mustard-stained Starfleet Uniform (blue shirt, of course) and wax-encrusted Spock ears, while squinting at his monitor with a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth (light up another, Dave, you'll "cure" yourself of your emphyzema sooner or later!), dropping ashes all over himself. He's so devoted to his ranting posts, he doesn't even take the time to get up to go to the bathroom; he just sits there, stewing in his own waste, writing posts that are interesting to no one but him.
I do not dangle cigarettes from my lips. The lack of teeth and loose skin from age make that very difficult, in addition to the smoke burning my worn out old eyes.
Spock is not one of my heroes. Cold hard logic is no fun, and it detracts from the experience of living. There is no poetry to his approach.
I thought I was safe from you in this thread.