I bet rocket scientists are conceited bastards. “YOU CALL THIS A MARTINI? THIS ISN’T ROCKET SCIENCE DAMMIT! I WOULD KNOW!”
Going to Tosche Station to pick up power converters, a container of blue milk, and a stick of butter.
My kid asked for a Pb and J, but this lead is like really hard to spread.
If I had a time machine, I would fuck nerdy girls in it.
I just found out Stephen Hawking is British. Weird, I never even noticed an accent.
The best thing about telepathy is…I know, right?
As Timmy hugged the robot, its mechanical heart warmed for the first time. Once it hit 1000°, Timmy was nothing but ash. But still. Sweet.