When I am the captain of the NCC 1701 Enterprise I will smirk and make eyes at my attractive crew. Male and female alike.
I will go on every away mission.
I will disobey the prime directive once a week as a minimum.
I will manage to take off my shirt during every fight.
I will drink Romulan Ale with abandon.
After drinking Romulan Ale I will wake up beneath a sweaty pile of ambassadors of indeterminate sex.
I will not care about the indeterminacy.
I will not care that my clothes appear to be hanging from the antimatter warp core containment chamber.
I will wear Florsheim zipper boots and love them.
I will never, ever wear a red shirt.
I will do the M.C. Hammer shuffle across the bridge just to get a rise out of my Vulcan officers.
Those are the things I would do.
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