My Exclusive Interview With the Governor of Nevada Brian Sandoval


Today at Manhattan Infidel I have the pleasure of interviewing the governor of the state of Nevada, the honorable Brian Sandoval.

MI: Good afternoon Governor Sandoval.


MI: Governor Sandoval?

GS: Yes. Sorry. I was distracted by the many problems a governor has to deal with.

MI:  I can only imagine.  Tell me, in your opinion what is the greatest challenge facing Nevada right now?


MI: Governor Sandoval?

GS:  It’s the pot, man!  It’s the pot!

MI: The pot? 

GS: Dude, we’re running out of pot man!

MI:I see. You are referring to legal marijuana. Nevada is one of the few states that have legal marijuana.


MI: So why is Denver running out of marijuana?


MI: Governor?

GS: We didn’t know they’re would be such a demand. Our supply chain is broken.

MI: That’s awful. What sort of supply chain do you have?

GS: I got a guy named Larry. He gets the stuff for Nevada.

MI: Larry?

GS: Larry man.  Larry. He gets the stuff.

MI: Larry who?

GS: I don’t know. I don’t know his last name man. I don’t have his last name.  All I have is his number.

MI: Well give him a call. I’m sure he has some good stuff for Nevada.

GS: I tried man. The number’s been disconnected. Maybe the cops picked him up.

MI: Or maybe he just changes his number frequently. That’s what my guy does.

GS: Dude. You have a Larry?

MI: Yeah only his name’s Pablo. Would you like his number?

GS: I don’t know man. Larry doesn’t like me to use other suppliers. He beat up the Lieutenant Governor when he went to another supplier. Beat him up pretty badly. Larry scares me, dude. He scares me!  

MI: Calm down.

GS: I can’t calm down man. I don’t have Larry’s number. Maybe he’s coming after me!

MI: You’re being paranoid. Why’s it so dark in here?  Let me turn on the lights.

GS: Dude, don’t turn on the lights. They can’t find me if the lights are out.

MI: Who? Who can’t find you?

GS: Larry dude. Haven’t you heard what I’ve been saying?  Larry’s coming after me.

[The governor hides under the desk]

MI: Okay well I guess that’s about all the time we have.

GS: Do you have any snacks? I’m hungry.

And to think there were those who thought that legalizing marijuana might have consequences.


Kermit’s Feud with Gumby Intensifies!

One’s a sellout. The other too radical

Kermit the Frog and Gumby the green clay humanoid, two of Hollywood’s brighter lights in the green community continue to exchange nasty words as their feud grows more bitter. Both see themselves as rightful heirs to Martin Luther King Jr. and the struggle to free non-whites from alt-white nationalism.

“Gumby?  He’s a St. Patrick’s Day cookie. Green on the outside but white inside” said Kermit when asked about his rival.

Gumby for his part feels that Kermit is a disrespectful thug honing in on his social justice territory.

“Kermit is nothing. He’s a punk” Gumby is quoted as saying.

Where was he all those years I had to use the servants entrance to the studios here in Hollywood? He was nowhere to be found. I was the one who broke the green color barrier. You know those green ladies from Star Trek? Fake. They had white actresses put on green paint. Talk about Greenface! I organized a boycott of Star Trek and forced them to hire some real green actors. I did it. I did it and faced the consequences. I was beaten by the Klan and had the Democrats turn a fire hose on me. But I did it for my people. Where was Kermit during this?  Living a comfortable middle class experience. He’s a phony.

At stake is the leadership and direction of Hollywood’s burgeoning green community.

While Gumby is respected for his accomplishments many of the younger green people feel that Kermit’s fire and radicalism better suits them.

Kermit electrified the green community with his famous “It’s Not Easy Being Green” speech, reproduced here full,  which he delivered at the 2016 Democratic National Convention.

It’s not that easy being green
Having to spend each day the color of the leaves
When I think it could be nicer being red, or yellow or gold
Or something much more colorful like that

It’s not easy being green It seems you blend in with so many other ordinary things
And people tend to pass you over ’cause you’re
Not standing out like flashy sparkles in the water
Or stars in the sky

But green’s the color of Spring
And green can be cool and friendly-like
And green can be big like an ocean, or important
Like a mountain, or tall like a tree

When green is all there is to be
It could make you wonder why, but why wonder why Wonder,
I am green and it’ll do fine, it’s beautiful
And I think it’s what I want to be

“What this speech shows is Kermit’s intense pain and self loathing brought on by the prejudice inflicted upon him by the white majority” said a sociology professor at UCLA.

He speaks of the pain of being green, how he is overlooked, how he wishes he were a different color. But in the end he triumphs and loudly proclaims that green is beautiful and that green lives matter. This resonates with youth. It’s something that Gumby would never say. Gumby the accommodater who lives in a white neighborhood, dates white women and is seen by many as selling out his green brothers.

Despite or maybe because of the need to present a unified green face Kermit and Gumby have agreed to meet to seek common ground.

“These green punks today think they got it rough? They don’t know the meaning of the word. I remember being used as a green screen for low budget movies.  Try that on for size” said an emotional Gumby.


Locals Cannot Understand What Wine Drinking Bullfrog is Saying!

Hey, want some of my mighty fine wine?

Local wine-drinking bullfrog Jeremiah has raised the ire of residents and police who are concerned that his drinking is getting out of control.

“Don’t get me wrong” said the Chief of Police.

We all like Jeremiah. He’s a good friend of mine. And on occasion I have helped him drink his wine. But lately it seems he’s drunk all the time. And when he’s drunk he slurs his words so I can never understand a word he says. It’s my job to keep order in town. I turn a blind eye to the occasional drunk in public. People will drink after all. But alcoholics? They just aren’t dependable. And Jeremiah is a bullfrog. I’m concerned he might get violent.

Heeding police concerns the Town Council passed the “Anti-Bullfrog Act” prohibiting Jeremiah from entering town.

“This is the last resort” said council member.

Jeremiah is a nice guy for a bullfrog. So before the Act was passed we all went to visit him and express our concerns. We sat around drinking his wine, he always has some mighty fine wine, hoping he could explain himself. Instead he started rambling on and on. None of use could understand a single word he said. I think he was speaking in tongues. Frankly that concerns us. We’re a pretty tolerant town. Live and let live you know. But we don’t need a wine-drinking bullfrog with a messiah complex upsetting the locals. Especially the young, female locals. You know how easily women are brought under the spell of a strong, charismatic male.

Indeed after word spread that Jeremiah was speaking in tongues many of the towns younger citizens sought him out.

At first we thought they were just sneaking out to drink his mighty fine wine. But when we investigated we found that the kids were all in a trance. Some were lying on their backs. Some were dancing around. Some were chanting. And in the middle of it all sat Jeremiah looking like Buddha and speaking words no one could understand. I haven’t seen anything so disturbing since Woodstock.

It wasn’t long before parents came out to grab their kids and take them home. Sometimes there was violence.

“My daughter ain’t getting involved with no wine-drinking bullfrog prophet!” said one father.

I’m no cisgender activist but I draw the line at sex between bullfrogs and humans. This isn’t California, after all. I brought my shotgun and told Jeremiah to leave my daughter alone or I would shoot him. He said something to me as I grabbed my daughter. I couldn’t understand what he was saying but it couldn’t have been good. You know these religious fanatics.

Undeterred by local opposition, Jeremiah has announced that he is a prophet sent by God and is forming his own church called “The Temple of the Holy Bullfrog.”

“A prophet is not without honor, except in his home town” said Jeremiah.

“My message is one of joy. Joy to the world, all the boys and girls. Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea. Joy to you and me.”


Casper the Friendly Ghost Attacked by Mob of Intersectional Feminists!

I don’t understand the problem. I’m just being friendly.

Casper, known locally as the “friendly ghost” was attacked and brutally beaten today when his path accidentally crossed with an Intersectional Feminist Pride Parade.

“He’s lucky to be alive” said a doctor in the Emergency Room who treated the injured ghost.

All his ribs were broken and his genitalia had been torn off, which is kind of odd since ghosts aren’t supposed to have either bones or genitalia. In addition his skull had been fractured. The poor ghost has a long rehab ahead of him. When I told him the extent of his injuries he started crying and said,”My genitalia. My ghostly genitalia! I will never have the chance to be a friendly ghost again.”  Poor guy was pretty devastated. We gave him a shitload of sedatives. When that didn’t work we put in him a medically-induced coma.

The trouble for Casper began when he was flying around town looking for attractive young women to be friendly with. Spotting one such female he swooped down and introduced himself.

Unfortunately for Casper the woman in question was a well-known local Intersectional Feminist. Calling her oppressed sisters over she pointed out Casper as a “potential white rapist.”

At first Casper tried to defend himself, saying that he only wanted to be “friendly and spread the joy.”

Triggered by the word “spread”  which they took as code for “penis in vagina sex” the intersectional feminists surrounded the friendly ghost and began punching him.

One woman grabbed a brick from a nearby construction site and began pummeling Casper over the head.

“We don’t need your white ghost gaze” she screamed as her fellow feminists cheered.

Casper attempted to crawl to safety all the while begging for his life.

“Please I beg you. I will never be friendly again” he wimpered.

This only served to further enraged the triggered intersectionals who surrounded Casper and began kicking him.

It was at this point that one feminist reached down, grabbed his genitals and ripped them off. Holding it above her head as one might a trophy she shouted “Look at this girls. One less external male genitalia in the world and I tore it off!”

Satisfied that they had defended their honor the feminists proceeded to the nearest safe space. The newly-mutilated Casper was spotted by a passing motorist who called 911.

The mayor has asked for calm and appealed to Casper’s fellow ghosts not to commit any acts of revenge.

“We could all learn from the intersectional feminist community” said the mayor.

We in the male community have committed many sins against the female race. When one reflects upon our history of oppression against women today’s attack on Casper, while regrettable, is the result of legitimate historical grievances. On behalf of all men I ask the feminist community to forgive us and to continue giving us teachable moments.

As for Casper he remains in his medically-induced coma and has been charged with inciting a riot.

His doctors are confident he will make a full recovery.

“If by full you mean being a eunuch the rest of his afterlife, then yes he will make a full recovery. But it’s not all bad. Certainly having no genitalia will reduce his testosterone level and testosterone is the root of all evil.”


Manhattan Infidel Ain’t Got Nuttin’

I got nuttin’

Being a world famous has its perks. After all who wouldn’t like to avoid all human contact to write and not get paid for it?  Sounds fun, right? But sometimes after eight and half years and 2,076 posts even my fertile imagination (I watch a lot of porn) comes up empty.

I followed my usual morning routine (woke up, brushed my teeth, went to the window and flashed my morning wood to the neighbors) and I still cannot think of a topic for today’s post. And so I open up the pages of Manhattan Infidel to my readers. Perhaps they have some suggestions as to topics?

Note:  Since no none actually reads my blog so all suggestions are made up and are from imaginary people.

C.H.E of alligator infested Florida writes:

I enjoy your blog immensely. I was wondering if you could perhaps give us your take on the medieval controversies between the Franciscans and the Dominicans over the Immaculate Conception?

No.  Did you get my photos?

C.H.E of alligator infested Florida also writes:

P.S. Please don’t send me any more pictures of your penis.

I don’t see what the problem is. In many cultures sending a picture of one’s penis is considered an honor. Besides the photos were very artistic. Lots of profile shots. What can I say?  C.H.E. is a penis hater.

Pete Best of Liverpool England writes:

Please don’t write about me any more in your blog. I’m serious. It’s not my fault the Beatles fired me. They were just jealous. I’m a better drummer than Ringo!

I’m just breaking your balls a little bit. That’s all. Now go home and get your f*ckng shinebox.

Pete Best of Liverpool England also writes:

Motherf*cker! You piece of shit!  Oh, and did you get my resume?

Yes I did. I used it to wipe my ass.

Vladimir Putin from the Kremlin writes:

I enjoy our blog. It is the only news outlet in America that tells the truth. I have one suggestion. Well two actually. One. Keep up the Russian collusion stories. They are really amusing. Two. Stop sending me photos of your penis.

I can’t make any promises about the Russian collusion narrative. It seems to have run its course. As far as the photos of my penis I’m sorry. They were supposed to go to C.H.E. of alligator-infested Florida.

Vladimir Putin from the Kremlin also writes:

You too? I thought I was the only one sending her photos of my penis. Though no profile shots as of yet.

Sheila from a peace and love commune writes:

How can people be so heartless
How can people be so cruel
Easy to be hard
Easy to be cold

How can people have no feelings
How can they ignore their friends
Easy to be proud
Easy to say no

And especially people
Who care about strangers
Who care about evil
And social injustice
Do you only
Care about the bleeding crowd?
How about a needing friend?
I need a friend

Take a bath, hippie! And did you enjoy the photos of my penis?

Well that’s about all I have for today. I promise to be back tomorrow with original content. Thank you for all your suggestions.


Vulcans Experience Little Success in Earth Dating Scene!

To lubricate that area of my body is highly illogical

Many Vulcans, who first came to Earth in hopes of non Pon-Farr approved mating are returning to Vulcan, disappointed at their lack of mating success.

“Mating only once every seven years may be logical but it is constricting” said one Vulcan.

I had heard that humans mate often. Every day. Maybe twice or three times a day. At least that’s what Captain Kirk told me. He shared his many mating experiences with me. By the way what is a rusty trombone?  So I came to Earth. I was looking forward to many, many, many highly illogical but pleasurable mating experiences. I was not as successful as I had anticipated and that is illogical. I am in the prime of my mating life. I should be able to find many prospective mates for hookups as I believe you humans call it.

Instead of success the Vulcan in question found his pick up lines mocked by human females.

I was told that women admire confidence so I would go up to them in bars and say “I want to engage in a highly logical session of coitus with you.” I usually ended up being maced. Fortunately we Vulcans have an inner eyelid that kept most of the mace out of my eyes. Still, it was an unpleasant experience. Very illogical this irrationality of the human female.

Another Vulcan, who landed in the heart of Manhattan’s Chelsea neighborhood spoke of locals attempting to engage him in illogical sexual practices.

“My attempts to engage the local population in sexual activity were interesting to say the least” declares the sexually unsuccessful Vulcan.

Even though I am male people kept asking me if I perhaps self-identified as female. They wanted to know if I was gender fluid and non-binary. I did not know how to answer these questions. And when they weren’t asking me if I were non-binary they were trying to get me to lubricate myself. To lubricate an orifice of my body that has no natural lubricants and was not meant to be penetrated seemed illogical to me. They then called me a “hater” and told me to go back to the red state I came from. I merely wanted to engage in pleasurable sexual activity during a non Pon Farr period. I did not need to be called names. Since Vulcans have no feelings the name calling did not affect me. Okay I cried when I was alone. But you can’t tell anyone about this. If the other Vulcans knew I wouldn’t get any even during my next Pon Farr.

Police in New York City report finding many Vulcans passed out in the street on Saturday nights in a puddle of their own vomit.

“Yeah these Vulcans just can’t handle rejection. Once every seven years? Why don’t they just get married” said a detective.

The Vulcan High Command has ordered all Vulcans to leave Earth and return to Vulcan.

“The Vulcans on Earth are giving us a bad name. I mean keep your shit together or people might start thinking we are Romulan.”


Vacationer From Planet Ferenginar Arrested After Stroking His Lobes In Public!

I’ll give you ten bars of gold-pressed latinum if you stroke my lobes!

A Ferengi visiting Earth was arrested and charged with stroking his lobes in public, a Class B misdemeanor punishable by a fine of $500 and/or two weeks in jail.

The trouble for the Ferengi tourist began after he complained to authorities that the “human females were clothed.”

“I didn’t know what to tell him” said a detective with Manhattan’s Midtown South precinct.

Yeah our women wear clothing. It’s just a tradition. Well except for ugly, obese feminists who like to parade around town topless. Being topless is not against the law in New York City. Unfortunately the only people who take advantage of this law are the ones you don’t want to see topless. Lena Dunham, Mayor De Blasio. You know the type. So I had to explain to him that I didn’t know what the laws were on Ferenginar but here women wear clothing. He started swearing and said he paid 2000 bars of gold-pressed latinum for this vacation and he wants to see naked females. I suggested he try the Hamptons.

Rebuffed by the NYPD the Ferengi then walked around Times Square asking locals where he could find “some good porno.”

“We were very polite but told him we didn’t know” said a fellow tourist and his wife visiting from Tampa, Florida.

He was very rude. I heard New Yorkers were rude. After I told him I didn’t know where the porno was he asked me why I let my wife wear clothing. I tried to joke my way out of it and said that she doesn’t wear clothing in the bedroom where it counts. He didn’t appreciate my joke and threw his hands up in the air and said “Goddammit where the hell is the porno!”

Still searching for porno the Ferengi entered The New Amerstam Theatre on 42nd street where a production of “Mary Poppins” was being staged. He was asked to leave after standing up in his seat and shouting “This is the worst f*cking porno show ever!”

After being thrown out of the New Amsterdam he approached a woman on the street and offered her gold-pressed latinum if she would rub his lobes.

“I’ve done a lot of things to pay my bills. I’m not ashamed of that” said the woman in question.

But what the hell is gold-pressed latinum anyway?  If its as useless as the dollar then no deal. If a fella wants his lobes stroked he’s got to pay me in cash. That’s just how I operate.

It was at this point that the desperate Ferengi started stroking his ears on the corner of 42nd and 8th avenue.

“He was making quite the scene” said the arresting officer.

He was rocking his hips back and forth and shouting “Oh god, yes, yes.  That makes the lobes feel great.” Technically there is no law against stroking  your earlobes in public so I arrested him for disturbing the peace.

Once ticketed the Ferengi was released on his own recognizance.

“The Ferengi might want to update their tourist guides. This isn’t the 1970s” said the precinct sergeant.

“But I’ll tell you one thing. If it’s true that the Ferengi keep women naked it sounds like a fun place. I think I’ll take the wife there.”


Manhattan Infidel Has an Unpleasant Encounter With CNN!

This is CNN. You shall not make fun of us.

Being a blogger it is my sacred duty to make shit up. Satire is the charitable name for it. Free speech is the classical name for it. However recently a dark force of evil has arisen that threatens us all. And that dark force is……erectile dysfunction.  No wait. I’m sorry. That dark force of evil is…..CNN.

Recently CNN threatened to out a 15-year old who made a meme that hurt their corporate feelings. Drunk with power and needing more people to punish they recently came after yours truly.

I now document that encounter for my readers.

Note: Some events have been fictionalized for dramatic effect. Okay all events may have been fictionalized for dramatic effect. Okay, not none of this actually happened. But if CNN would like to come after me I welcome the publicity.

It all started with a knock at my door.

[Knock on door]

MI: Hello. Who’s knocking on my door?

CNN: Manhattan Infidel this is CNN.

MI: Jeepers it’s CNN. I had better hide.

[Knock on door]

CNN: Manhattan Infidel this is your final warning. This is CNN!

MI: Yeah, how do I know it’s not James Earl Jones.

CNN:Well that’s a good point. But no. It’s CNN. Open the door now or we will expose you to the American people.

MI: Oh please. I expose myself to the American people all the time. Just ask my parole officer.

CNN: Manhattan Infidel this is CNN. You have made fun of us for the last time. Open the door now or we shall break it down with the self-righteous anger of the elite!

MI: Sorry can’t open the door now.

CNN: Manhattan Infidel open the door right now!

MI: No thanks I gave at the office.

CNN: Oh come on Manhattan Infidel open the door. Please? We have to berate you for not showing proper respect for the elite.

MI: I’m not opening the door. I have Russians inside. We are colluding together.

CNN: Damn Russians. They are everywhere. I have to go to the bathroom.

MI: Go away.

CNN: Manhattan Infidel open the door so we can berate you.

MI: No.

CNN: Manhattan Infidel open the door. We all have to go to the bathroom.

MI:  Pee in the hallway for all I care.


CNN: Manhattan Infidel if you don’t open the door we’ll leave.

MI: Good bye.


CNN: We mean it.

MI: I know. It’s probably the first true thing CNN has said all year.


CNN: We really, really have to go to the bathroom.


CNN: Ah crap. These are new pants.

MI: Are you peeing in the hallway?

CNN: No.


CNN: Yes.


CNN:  Manhattan Infidel we are leaving now. But we will be back!

MI: Bye.

CNN: One last thing before we go. Do you have any extra pants. We have a big stain running down the front of ours. It’s visible and people might make fun of us.

MI: Goodbye.

CNN: You win this time. But we shall prevail. We are CNN. We are……


CNN: Oh crap. Wow.  So much for my weak stream. Ah that is such a relief. The prune juice really works.

MI: I can smell that. You better clean that up!

That was CNN.



Frankenstein Monster Apologizes for Throwing Girl in the Water; Blames Coffee Addiction!

Hey kid, don’t give me any shit. I haven’t had my coffee yet!

Under fire for allegedly drowning a young girl, the Frankenstein Monster tweeted today that he was “profoundly sorry for the incident.”

“I take full responsibility” said the Monster.

Did you ever just have one of those days? It’s kind of like that. It was early and I was was wandering around in a haze. I haven’t had my coffee yet you see. I can’t function without my coffee. So I bump into this little girl and she starts hassling me, asking me to play a game with her. Look I know we have to be kind to kids and all that shit so I humored her for awhile. But what I really wanted was to find the nearest Starbucks. That’s all I wanted. I tried to ask her that but she kept interrupting me and asking me to play another game. I don’t have time for this shit. Without that morning coffee I could kill. Literally. Finally I snapped and threw her in the water. While I appreciate the fact that my apology will not bring their daughter back I ask the parents to forgive me. I also offer my services. I can mow their lawn. I’m pretty tall so if they need me to trim their hedges I can do that as well. I hope this will get the Lord Mayor to call off the villagers with their torches. Fire bad!

Meanwhile the Lord Mayor has called off  the mob of torch-wielding citizens, but not because of the Monster’s apology.

“I got in trouble with the EPA” said the Lord Mayor.

They sent some agents to my house and told me that all those torches were damaging the environment. They were giving off too much particulate matter they said. What the f*ck is particulate matter? Seriously they threatened to sue my ass. I told them I needed the torches to burn the Monster. Do you know what they said? They told me to “respect diversity.” Idiots. So I had to ixnay the torches. Too bad. Nothing like setting a monster on fire to make me feel good about myself. So then I thought what about guns? We’ll just shoot the child-killing bastard. But I couldn’t even do that. Turns out we have these safe laws and all the villagers had their guns locked up and the ammo stored separately. Like that makes a lot of f*cking sense. By the time everyone locates their ammo the Monster will be halfway across the country. God I hate the government. Screw it. Let the Monster live and kill again. I’m washing my hands of the whole thing.

As for the Monster himself he thanks the various government agencies for protecting him from the wrath of the villagers.

I just want to say how grateful I am to the EPA and everyone else. Once I have a few cups of coffee in me I’m actually a very nice guy. Except around fire. Fire bad!

He then tweeted a photo of himself drinking coffee.

Ah, that coffee hits the spot!

“See that look of contentment on my face? Only coffee can do that. Well coffee and perhaps a mate. Maybe I’ll find a bride eventually. I hope so. A bride of Frankenstein! We can have Sunday brunch together, read the New York Times and drink coffee. Lots of coffee”


Borg Successful in Earth Dating Scene!

You will be assimilated. Here are some flowers

The Borg, a species from the Delta Quadrant of the Milky Way Galaxy, have begun making inroads on Match and eHarmony, prompting both sites to offer “Borg Assimilation” weekends for free.

“Confidence is very sexy” said a woman who dated a Borg.

And when he told me that resistance was futile I melted. Finally a man who isn’t afraid to take charge! We went out to dinner. Chinese. Apparently the Borg love Chinese food. He kept telling me that the General Tso’s chicken “shall be assimilated.” Anyway then we went back to his place. His “Cube” he called it. And oh the passion! He removed his pants and said “Resist this!” Naturally I couldn’t. Though his penis did have some weird cybernetic attachments. Then he started putting attachments onto me. So?  He’s into costumes and roll play. I’m game. We spent the night consummating our passion. He didn’t even need to sleep afterwards. He just popped into his regeneration chamber for a few moments, came out and we did it again. It’s true what they say: “Once you’ve had Borg you never go back.”

Another woman tells a similar tale.

I’m pretty open minded. I’ve dated Blacks, Puerto Ricans, even Ferengi. So you can say I’m pretty experienced. But I’ve never had a Borg before. They are passionate yet intimate love makers. He was on top of me and I looked into his eyes the entire time. Well, his eye. I had him cover up his eye implant on the one eye since the red laser light coming out of it wasn’t helping me release my chakras. But I’m hooked. From now on I am only dating Borg men. And women. And trans Borg, if they have any. Pre-op if possible.

However opposition to interplanetary dating is growing, with many calling for an outright ban on Borg-human hook ups.

“I only have one daughter and naturally I care about who she dates” said a father as he testified in front of Congress.

I used to have only one rule: No Irish. I only want my daughter dating respectable classes you see. But then she brought home this Borg. And she was all decked out in Borg implants. She said she had never been happier with the voices of the collective in her head. Come on! Do you know how much money I’ve spent on psychiatrists so she wouldn’t hear voices? And here comes this Borg with his Borg collective charm ruining all that. Never again. If I ever have another daughter and she brings home a Borg I’m going full Negan and taking a baseball bat to his skull!

As for the Borg, a message from the Borg Collective may explain why they like Earth women.

“We are the Borg. We assimilate species throughout the galaxy. That’s what we do. But sometimes you have to get your freak on. Klingons are too rough and Romulans are too icy. Earth girls are just the right balance.”