Twenty-Five Years Ago Today, A New Crew Went Boldly, Where No One Had Gone Before.

In place of the post I’d write if I wasn’t on vacation, I offer the following:

Today, Star Trek: The Next Generation turns 25 years-old.

When the show started, I looked like this:

and I couldn’t find a warp core with both hands.

Today, I look like this:

And I got a course you can plot.

Star Trek has been a huge part of my life, and a huge part of who I am, over the last 25 years, and it wasn’t always awesome.

But you know what is awesome? Talking to my friends and family from the cast today, celebrating not only that it’s been twenty-five years since we first Boldly Went When No One Had Gone Before, but that we still love each other, and still care about the time we spent together exploring the galaxy on the best starship to ever carry the name.

I know that Star Trek: The Next Generation has meant a lot to more than one generation since we debuted a quarter century ago today, and it means a lot to me in a lot of ways … but the thing that means the most to me, the thing that I cherish the most, is my family from the Enterprise D.

Happy Birthday, Next Generation. I’m proud and honored to be part of you.

Here’s my flabby, forty year-old, nerdy self, on the beach in Hawaii.

I’m on vacation in Hawaii (ON VACATION FROM WHAT WIL WHEATON HA HA I KNOW) with Anne.

We’ve had an absolutely amazing trip, relaxing and reading and swimming and having beers and mostly just enjoying that, after a year spent mostly apart due to my work, we finally get ten days together.

Well, today, a shitbag decided to intrude on our private vacation. He set himself up on the beach where we’re staying, pulled out a telephoto lens, and decided to take pictures of us for hours this morning.

I saw this guy around 10 this morning, and I thought to myself, “No, that guy isn’t taking my picture; I’m just being paranoid. Nobody cares about me enough to camp out on a beach and take that kind of paparazzi picture.”

Around 3, Anne and I got up from the beach, and walked back to our condo to make lunch. I saw the same guy, in the same place, with the same camera. I sort of glared at him, and he said something to me that I couldn’t hear.

“What?” I said.

“I said, ‘thank you, Wil.'” He said.

“Dude, I’m on vacation, and taking pictures like that of me and my wife isn’t cool. Would you please delete them?” I said.

“Sorry, brah,” he said, “I gotta make a living.”

“Are you serious?” I said. “I’m just trying to be on vacation with my wife, man.”

“Sorry, brah,” he said.

I absorbed the reality of what this parasite had done, and I said, “Go fuck yourself, you piece of shit.”

“Hey, if you don’t like it, go home, brah,” he said.

I was enraged. I was shaking and sick to my stomach. I walked back to my condo, and ate a sandwich (delicious PB&J with Guava Jam!) while I processed the invasion of my privacy I’d just experienced.

I was furious that this piece of shit would spend hours sitting on a beach, taking I don’t even know how many pictures of us, and then have the audacity to tell me that I should just go home if I didn’t like it. Like I was in the wrong for expecting to enjoy some time on the beach without some fucking creep using a telephoto lens to take pictures of me.

While I ate my sandwich (SO GOOD OMG) and finished my Bikini Blonde Lager, I hatched a scheme: Anne and I would render this subhuman pile of shit’s photos worthless (more worthless than they already are, because who gives a fuck about me in a bathing suit) by taking pictures of ourselves and posting them on Twitter.

So that’s what we did. And now I’m posting them here.

Thanks for giving me an anxiety attack in the middle of my vacation, brah. Good luck selling your fucking pictures, you piece of shit. Maybe go find something worthwhile to do with your life, like use that camera to take pictures of the beauty in Maui, instead of playing at being a paparazzo and making someone feel really uncomfortable when they’re just trying to enjoy some quiet time with their wife.

And now: my flabby, nerdy, 40 year-old self… and my amazingly beautiful wife:

And me, in all of my flabby, 40 year-old nerd glory:

Die in a fire, paparazzo guy. Die in a fire, brah.

in which a crappy dented ping pong ball finds a new home and a DVD auction is relisted for charity

A couple of weeks ago, I was cleaning out y garage to make space for my tabletop games and homebrewing supplies. I came across a bunch of cool things and posted pictures of them on Twitter.

Two of the things I found ended up as eBay auctions to raise money for the Pasadena Humane Society: a Stand By Me DVD, and a crappy dented ping pong ball that I made Internet famous for two days.

The DVD sold for $1000, and the ping pong ball sold for $1135 (I KNOW RIGHT). The buyer for the ping pong ball was awesome, paid immediately, and posted a fantastic unboxing video that you have to watch right now:

The other buyer was … not quite as awesome. I won’t go into it, but I had to cancel the sale after a number of attempts to resolve a number of increasingly unreasonable demands. The good news is that the DVD has been relisted! Yes, you can now bid on this DVD that was living in my garage!

Anne and I are very close to our fundraising goal for the Wiggle Waggle Walk, and it would be awesome if we made it. We need your help, and there are so many of you reading this, just ten bucks from you will quickly add up to get us there.

I mean, how can you say no to this face?

I mean, seriously:

Here’s that link to our team one more time.

And, of course, the DVD auction (which I should add will ship to the winner with a bonus copy of Different Seasons that I also found after the auction was created)

aloha

BREAKING: JOHN SCALZI EMBROILED IN SCANDAL!

BREAKING NEWS!!

Today on Twitter, noted Science Fiction Author and Cat-Bacon-Taper John Scalzi declared:

AAAAH EVERY YOUTUBE VIDEO HAS A POLITICAL AD IN FRONT OF IT THAT’S IT NO MORE YOUTUBE UNTIL NOVEMBER 7

— John Scalzi (@scalzi) September 23, 2012

A group of concerned cats immediately replied with this political action message:

Then, in a desperate attempt to deflect attention from his cat bacon taping, Scalzi accused beloved science fiction, television, film, stage, theater, internet, radio, and teenage-fever-dream star Wil Wheaton of being behind the whole thing. Wheaton, who everyone loves for reasons, denied the scandalous allegation. Scalzi then produced an obviously fake “receipt”:

@wilw Nothing to do with it? Then perhaps you can EXPLAIN THIS RECEIPT, Wil #OhSnapYall twitter.com/scalzi/status/…

— John Scalzi (@scalzi) September 24, 2012

But Mister Scalzi can not produce the LONG FORM RECEIPT! He continues to dodge the tough questions, and instead of responding to a simple and reasonable request, he produced this: