That was Nichelle Nichols‘ most famous role, but prior to Star Trek she sang with Lionel Hampton’s and Duke Ellington’s bands. I searched for an early recording, but found something entirely unexpected. If you are a fan, Do NOT click this link.
You’ve been warned.
[Images found here.]
Do the Madison. Now do the Tighten Up. Now do The Frank Sinatra – eight ball in the side pocket. C’mon people now. It’s Hully Gully Callin’ Time.
I’m guilty of it, and my dad did it to me, too.
This is what Dads are for.
“From Fu Hao to Joan of Arc to Rear Adm. Grace Hopper and beyond, women have played decisive roles in military affairs since the dawn of history.” Who was the greatest woman in military history? USNI wants to know.
I met Myldred Jones. She had been the highest ranking woman in the Navy ( Lt. Commander) but I didn’t know it at the time. All I knew was that she ran a shelter for teens in trouble, was planning to build a 2-story residence for runaways on the adjacent property, and seemed like a nice little old lady. I was just a year or so out of the midwest, so was polite and respectful. I don’t recall exactly what I said, but her response was, “Cut the crap. This is business.”
Check out who’s under cyber attack and from where. Live map.
The Runaways. Yeah, I got it, but I liked this song better.
Please return your seat to its upright position.
Sam Kinison‘s version of Wild Thing was better than the original.
[Top image from here.]
[Found here.]
“It’s a modified 1924 Allis-Chalmers,” she explained as the Vulcan’s eyes drifted ever so slightly to the dual temperature gauges.
“I should step out during the next solo jam and adjust the thermostat,” he mused to himself.
After turning up the air conditioning, The Vulcan found his buddies playing air guitar in the hallway. It made him proud.
The set ended quickly and when The Vulcan returned, the truth overwhelmed him: she was gone forever. She’d downed her whiskey sours, leaving nothing but lipstick on his empty shot glass and a bar tab of 98 Federation Credits, not counting the tip.
“Hit me again, Joe. Make it a double,” The Vulcan mumbled to no one in particular. He lit up his last unfiltered Tribble, inhaled deeply, tilted his head back and blew a perfect Figure 8 at the fire sprinkler head above the juke box. For the first time in his life, he grinned – a big toothy Vulcan grin.
[Images found here.]
“Sorry, lil’ buddy, but it’s true. You’re a goner within 10 minutes of the first commercial.”
The only one who escaped The Curse Of The Red Shirt was Scottie. He was strong. He was invincible. He was Lt. Commander Scott.
[Image found here.]
Right Click For The Tacky Map!
We’re all Fuldkommen Gak now.
Fight Blogslutting. (Psst. Hey, buddy. Got a Buck 4 a Bunk? A dime a day keeps the meerkats away. Cutesy little standy-uppy weasel-lookin' bastards.)
