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Jealous swine called out for being a drunk.
- Thread starter ThePepsiColaRapist
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Pat showing his jealousy and envy again. Pat thinks he should be the one to write that. He hates to see people getting ahead.
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This guy wrote some star trek garbage last year and has Patrick named as a space captain. Absolute fag.
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Doesn't he do this almost every single time one of his "friends" gets a deal? Instead of saying "Congrats" or "You deserve it." he always has some sort of cunty joke that hides his envy about as well as his smedium shirts hide his disrespectful protruding nipples.
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WOW. Yeah, that guy actually putting Fatty in to the Star Trek Universe kinda pisses me off and I'm not even a pedophile. But it kind of opens up a new 'avenue' for some funny ass Star Trek Captain Pat jokes n shit.This guy wrote some star trek garbage last year and has Patrick named as a space captain. Absolute fag.
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lmao, hasn't even been written but already has a release date only nine months from now. Sounds like a real quality product.
Meanwhile, Pig finished his last book in March 2020, released it in October 2020, yet is only about 20% deep into his next project, "Christmas Carnage". Despite having no job! What a fat asshole.
Meanwhile, Pig finished his last book in March 2020, released it in October 2020, yet is only about 20% deep into his next project, "Christmas Carnage". Despite having no job! What a fat asshole.
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LOL Fatricks ship is called the Kearsarge. Is that Klingon for Fat Asshole?
Anyone got that retarded blueprint he had for a spaceship that he designed? It kind of looked like a fleshlight. That's Patrick's Star Trek ship HAHA HOOLEE SHIIIT
Anyone got that retarded blueprint he had for a spaceship that he designed? It kind of looked like a fleshlight. That's Patrick's Star Trek ship HAHA HOOLEE SHIIIT
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Do you think Patrick would get sassy with Picard and call him a child?
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Kearsarge is a name used historically for several US warships. Being obviously US-centric is normal for these faggots who claim to be all worldly and diverse.
Look at the other names he picked. Vostok and Vasquez are simpleton "international" names to pick. Terra Nova? Space name! These books are complete drivel written for the morons who eat the extended universe nonsense up no matter what.
Look at the other names he picked. Vostok and Vasquez are simpleton "international" names to pick. Terra Nova? Space name! These books are complete drivel written for the morons who eat the extended universe nonsense up no matter what.
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Leonard Mcoy's
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I obviously didn't and won't read this stupid book but I think I would need a rib transplant if the guy made him into an incompetent boob who fucked up.
Like Picard gave him orders for a battle but Rick didn't obey them and used some cunty line like "This ends when I say it does" and promptly got his ship blown up.
Also maybe he's a wanna-be ladies man who never actually gets laid. "Tomlinson on Kearsarge talked a good game, but Picard had heard the scuttlebutt that even though he spent a lot of time in the ship's bar, he always went back to his cabin alone"
And Fat. "The Kearsarge had a well-equipped fitness center but Captain Tomlinson only ever seemed to use the steam room. His crew noticed that his uniform was getting awfully snug lately, except in the crotch area, leading to some snide remarks from the female members of the crew while he wasn't around."
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The best way to make characters and their positions memorable is to list them one after the other.
I would also like to read a book where Patrick is basically the Shockmaster of Star fleet
I would also like to read a book where Patrick is basically the Shockmaster of Star fleet
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Star Trek has become as gay as Star Wars now, nothing from my childhood will remain unscathed.
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Mr. Suelose
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Which book is this? I want to illegally download it and search through picking out any reference to Fat.This guy wrote some star trek garbage last year and has Patrick named as a space captain. Absolute fag.
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Don't worry, it's not canon.
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Pat is very upset because he “colleagues” are all still publishing books while his career is dead from being an asshole. He can never praise anyone else, his autistic brain won’t let him.
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He is like Vos, watching others pass him by career wise like kevin hart, louie, etc.. then making fun of bad jokes they made
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I watched some of Colin Quinn’s HBO parking lot comedy special and loved that he had Vos host it just to watch him bomb for amusement.
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The bridge of the Kearsarge was unusually quiet. Most of the officers were in their quarters, trying in vain to get a few hours rest before their next rotation. It had been an eventful few days, as they had transversed the Ohanday system, and the crew - and the ship itself - were badly in need of a reprieve.
Only Lt. Weimer - a strange, frog bodied being from the planet Peeto, was currently at his Communications post. He thumbed through various pictures of adolescent humanoids on his handheld device - his sole form of enjoyment since he had been banned from the holodeck. He buried his face in his webbed hands at his recollection of that incident - Starfleet itself had gotten involved in the investigation, and the servers and hard drives of the holodeck had to be seized and cleaned.
It wasn't a good day for him, and even the repeated utterances of "I'm so sorry, Lt. Weimer", from his crewmates did little to sooth his battered ego.
Weimer was suddenly broken from his reverie by the communications screen, which chirped noisily to life, informing Weimer that someone was attempting to communicate with their ship. Startled, Weimer dropped his handheld device, cursing in his native tongue as he ran one webbed hand through his thinning, silver hair, trying to regain composure. Timid and weak by nature, he began gasping for air nervously as he pressed his badge, summoning the captain.
"C-C-Captain Tomlinson?", he eeked out softly.
"Hello fans, Captain Patrick S Tomlinson here. Most of you know me as a firebrand on Twitter, but what you might not know is that I am also a Starship captain. How might I enlighten you today, child?", an effeminate voice responded. Weimer pressed his badge again, narrowing his eyes nervously as he studied the screen.
"Th-th-this is Weimer, on the buh-buh-buh-bridge. You might wanna g-g-get up here, Captain. We have c-c-c-company!".
"On the way, child", Tomlinson replied. Within moments, the automatic door to the bridge silently slid to one side, allowing Captain Tomlinson - a portly human of middle age, his careworn face seemingly adding 10 years to his actual age, and a greying, diminishing tuft of hair topping his spherical head - and Lt. Commander Three Names - a vaguely humanoid female of the planet Akompliss, her face little more than an assembly of warts, moles and tumors, offset by two sad eyes and a devilish mouth - to enter the bridge.
Tomlinson approached Weimer who was still seated at his position. Tomlinson's snug Starfleet uniform continued to ride up ever so discreetly, permitting passersby and any other soul unfortunate enough to be closeby to get a peek at his white, untanned stomach spilling over his waistband. If you were behind him, the view of his rear would be thankfully obscured by his Romulan dagger he kept nestled there, his souvenir from when he was jumped at a Romulan reservation. Somewhere out there, a Romulan assassin was missing both an arm - and his weapon. Tomlinson's erect nipples acted like two grotesque divining rods guiding his steps, as he kneeled beside Weimer.
"What seems to be the problem here, child?", Tomlinson asked. Weimer swallowed hard, summoning the courage to respond. "Th-there's a ship, attempting t-t-t-to hail us, Captain", he responded.
Tomlinson sat in his captain's chair, leaning forward facing the screen as he threw his pink blanket over his lap. "Very well ", he sighed. "Onscreen".
The large screen instantly came to life, filled with the grotesque visage of a snarling Klingon. "I am R'k D'dddy of the Klingon Empire", he snarled. "Why is there a Starfleet presence here in Klingon territory? This space was alloted to us! Depart or be blown apart!".
Tomlinson pursed his lips, choosing his next words carefully. A gifted diplomat, he had once been awarded the coveted Blue Checkmark of Diplomacy. "You didn't listen to what the Federation of Planets actually said", Tomlinson replied. "Now it gets worse for you."
R'k D'dddy blinked in confusion, exchanging a bewildered look with someone offscreen. "Wha...? What do you - never mind. I have the actual paperwork right here. Perhaps the captain would like if I were to -"
"Shhhhhhh..... shhhhhh", Tomlinson cooed, mockingly. "Infant baby child, don't be a Nazi fascist. I not only serve as a starship captain for Starfleet, but I have also been a diplomat, trained fighter, gourmet chef, spaceball grand champion and award winning author. I never ever question the orders of Starfleet, so long as my particular side is presiding. I have information that you have not been innoculating your newborn with the vaccine for SpaceCoof. So we are here to set up a presence and enforce Starfleet's orders - for your safety and freedom, child."
R'k D'ddd'y's eyes depicted a flurry of emotions - shock, fear, and ultimately anger. He and his bride had just recently had a child, and he was not going to allow Starfleet to poison them.
"Look here, Captain! This is sovereign space! I am not going to allow you to pump my child full of -"
He was immediately cut off by a yelp. Tomlinson and Three Names looked over to see that Weimer had passed out at these words, a pleasured smile on his frail lips. Tomlinson shook his head.
"We didn't actually say that, little baby girl. Anyway, I'm going to enjoy what happens to you neeeeeeeckst. Move aside and let us through, child."
R'k D'dddy fixed his face into an aggressive sneer. "Never. I will not stand idly by while the wheels of oppression threate-".
"SHUT! YOUR FUCKING! MOUTH!", Tomlinson barked, standing up, his fleshy face reddened with emotion. He narrowed his dead eyes, and uttered another command.
"Three Names...?".
"Yes, Captain?", she responded in a manly husk.
"Block and report."
Only Lt. Weimer - a strange, frog bodied being from the planet Peeto, was currently at his Communications post. He thumbed through various pictures of adolescent humanoids on his handheld device - his sole form of enjoyment since he had been banned from the holodeck. He buried his face in his webbed hands at his recollection of that incident - Starfleet itself had gotten involved in the investigation, and the servers and hard drives of the holodeck had to be seized and cleaned.
It wasn't a good day for him, and even the repeated utterances of "I'm so sorry, Lt. Weimer", from his crewmates did little to sooth his battered ego.
Weimer was suddenly broken from his reverie by the communications screen, which chirped noisily to life, informing Weimer that someone was attempting to communicate with their ship. Startled, Weimer dropped his handheld device, cursing in his native tongue as he ran one webbed hand through his thinning, silver hair, trying to regain composure. Timid and weak by nature, he began gasping for air nervously as he pressed his badge, summoning the captain.
"C-C-Captain Tomlinson?", he eeked out softly.
"Hello fans, Captain Patrick S Tomlinson here. Most of you know me as a firebrand on Twitter, but what you might not know is that I am also a Starship captain. How might I enlighten you today, child?", an effeminate voice responded. Weimer pressed his badge again, narrowing his eyes nervously as he studied the screen.
"Th-th-this is Weimer, on the buh-buh-buh-bridge. You might wanna g-g-get up here, Captain. We have c-c-c-company!".
"On the way, child", Tomlinson replied. Within moments, the automatic door to the bridge silently slid to one side, allowing Captain Tomlinson - a portly human of middle age, his careworn face seemingly adding 10 years to his actual age, and a greying, diminishing tuft of hair topping his spherical head - and Lt. Commander Three Names - a vaguely humanoid female of the planet Akompliss, her face little more than an assembly of warts, moles and tumors, offset by two sad eyes and a devilish mouth - to enter the bridge.
Tomlinson approached Weimer who was still seated at his position. Tomlinson's snug Starfleet uniform continued to ride up ever so discreetly, permitting passersby and any other soul unfortunate enough to be closeby to get a peek at his white, untanned stomach spilling over his waistband. If you were behind him, the view of his rear would be thankfully obscured by his Romulan dagger he kept nestled there, his souvenir from when he was jumped at a Romulan reservation. Somewhere out there, a Romulan assassin was missing both an arm - and his weapon. Tomlinson's erect nipples acted like two grotesque divining rods guiding his steps, as he kneeled beside Weimer.
"What seems to be the problem here, child?", Tomlinson asked. Weimer swallowed hard, summoning the courage to respond. "Th-there's a ship, attempting t-t-t-to hail us, Captain", he responded.
Tomlinson sat in his captain's chair, leaning forward facing the screen as he threw his pink blanket over his lap. "Very well ", he sighed. "Onscreen".
The large screen instantly came to life, filled with the grotesque visage of a snarling Klingon. "I am R'k D'dddy of the Klingon Empire", he snarled. "Why is there a Starfleet presence here in Klingon territory? This space was alloted to us! Depart or be blown apart!".
Tomlinson pursed his lips, choosing his next words carefully. A gifted diplomat, he had once been awarded the coveted Blue Checkmark of Diplomacy. "You didn't listen to what the Federation of Planets actually said", Tomlinson replied. "Now it gets worse for you."
R'k D'dddy blinked in confusion, exchanging a bewildered look with someone offscreen. "Wha...? What do you - never mind. I have the actual paperwork right here. Perhaps the captain would like if I were to -"
"Shhhhhhh..... shhhhhh", Tomlinson cooed, mockingly. "Infant baby child, don't be a Nazi fascist. I not only serve as a starship captain for Starfleet, but I have also been a diplomat, trained fighter, gourmet chef, spaceball grand champion and award winning author. I never ever question the orders of Starfleet, so long as my particular side is presiding. I have information that you have not been innoculating your newborn with the vaccine for SpaceCoof. So we are here to set up a presence and enforce Starfleet's orders - for your safety and freedom, child."
R'k D'ddd'y's eyes depicted a flurry of emotions - shock, fear, and ultimately anger. He and his bride had just recently had a child, and he was not going to allow Starfleet to poison them.
"Look here, Captain! This is sovereign space! I am not going to allow you to pump my child full of -"
He was immediately cut off by a yelp. Tomlinson and Three Names looked over to see that Weimer had passed out at these words, a pleasured smile on his frail lips. Tomlinson shook his head.
"We didn't actually say that, little baby girl. Anyway, I'm going to enjoy what happens to you neeeeeeeckst. Move aside and let us through, child."
R'k D'dddy fixed his face into an aggressive sneer. "Never. I will not stand idly by while the wheels of oppression threate-".
"SHUT! YOUR FUCKING! MOUTH!", Tomlinson barked, standing up, his fleshy face reddened with emotion. He narrowed his dead eyes, and uttered another command.
"Three Names...?".
"Yes, Captain?", she responded in a manly husk.
"Block and report."
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