“Can’t expect me to train my replacement if I don’t remember how I did it!”
“Can’t expect me to train my replacement if I don’t remember how I did it!”
This is what happens when you take things away. Used to be you’d just levitate yourself wherever you needed to go.
Then there’s Fallout. Who needs horses? Courier can carry themself and 400 pounds of Sunset Sarsaparilla up a damn near vertical cliff face if you do the side-to-side.
Not with Trek, but I’m a former stagehand and I’ve done amateur stagework. Spent a lotta time building and maintaining sets and props. I’ve been there.
You’re backstage, you’ve got how everything should look memorized, it’s all set up, and for a moment, while it’s just you and that dry run, you forget yourself. You’re a part of the show.
Eventually you step back, remember it’s all fake. You notice the little flaws, notice the floor isn’t just right under your feet. You were tired, trying to get something done. A lapse.
I genuinely believe in the magic of the stage. Not in the sense of a spell, but of the ritual. No matter if it’s on a screen, or in person, if you do it right, we let go. For a moment, we forget our world and step into another.
I know this is just a “grass is always greener” because I am horridly burned out at my current gig and it’s only getting worse, but damn, I’m really sitting here on my lunch break going “Yeah, gathering fish jizz sounds a whole lot better than going back into this hellhole”.
On the other hand, you probably need some marine life education to become the cuddlefish jizzmopper that I certainly lack.
Remember, dying alone is suicide.
Taking your teammates out with you is collateral.
Yeah, sadly, it seems no matter how ample the parking, people will still just take a pump.
I kinda get it, but at this point, we should all know better. Leave one person behind to pump and park, you’re going to be in the building for awhile just trying to get snacks and get checked out. I’ve never seen our local less than packed inside.
Have you been to a Buc-Ees?
Hundreds of pumps. It’s a goddamned ocean of concrete and steel. You can use the main building as a shelter for a mid-sized town and have enough bathrooms. It’s a fucking department store serving as a gas station.
They’re goddamned massive.
581 miles? You can still see a Buc-Ees in the rearview at that distance.
Good on them. $7500 for all future royalties is an absolute rip, especially coming out of Rockstar.
Pineapples were also a sign of wealth.
There was a time when people would rent a pineapple to just sit on the table at a party.
If you were lucky.
I remember when people figured out the invisible characters glitch and BG chat was just a wash of shit talk all s p l i t u p l I k e t h i s.
Saw some people also use that for good, but a majority in my experience were just heinous.
And all contained in the palm of your hand.
So much swapping back to that damned flashlight, I will never understand that decision. It didn’t build tension, it just made me get really good at beating things to death so I didn’t have to keep switching out.
They’re doing a service.
Reminding men that it’s never too late to schedule an appointment at the proctologist.
Always aim to win a fight without having thrown a punch.
Unless your opponent is also naked, and then it’s called “Greco-Roman Karate”.
She looks happy, at least. Maybe it’s kinda meditative. You don’t want to move too much. Just sit, relax, and be a table.
Didn’t they make one where that was the point? You even had a little sachet of chocolate sauce to spread across the dough.
Ones for the little gay people, the others for the larger-but-still-small gay people.
Wonder how that’d go.
Banks could be the fire to burn Apple back.
Is it considered regicide if you take down an empress?
Either way, time to take back the holy land.
They’ll look mean, and your cook can at least handle a couple methheads(maybe more, depends on when they last stepped out back to take a bump), but if you’re not there to cause problems, a lot of that demeanor can fall away.
Especially your owl crews. They gauge you upon entrance, you’re either fucked to the gills to start shit, or you’re that special kinda person who really just wanted some smothered, covered, and chunked hashbrowns at 1:45AM.