So, I had always assumed if you were on tv with the city council, it would probably be for more... nefarious reasons.So, not to brag or anything, but an AV job I designed and programmed made the news...
To be fair, me too.So, I had always assumed if you were on tv with the city council, it would probably be for more... nefarious reasons.
So, I had always assumed if you were on tv with the city council, it would probably be for more... nefarious reasons.
Whether you are accepted or rejected, you have my sympathies.Sending in law school application this morning. *anxiety*
Didn't we have an exploding lawyer meme a while back? We might need to update it.Sending in law school application this morning. *anxiety*
I can do it all right? Full time work, full time volunteer work, full time parent and spouse, full time school. that's 24 hours a day, no problem.Whether you are accepted or rejected, you have my sympathies.
Leaping Lawyer no longer exists in this dojo. Or anywhere else in the world apparentlyDidn't we have an exploding lawyer meme a while back? We might need to update it.
Halforums Wiki to the rescueLeaping Lawyer no longer exists in this dojo. Or anywhere else in the world apparently
He will be within 3 hrs of me in May, but I can't justify that drive. I wish he would come back to Raleigh again.So I've been in a funk recently - just generally mild-to-moderately depressed for the last few months. Last week was incredibly busy, and I was super tired.
This past Saturday my favourite musician was in town, playing the city's largest (I think) venue. And I had snagged 6th row floor tickets back when they went on sale. I was mildly looking forward to it, but hadn't mustered up a lot of enthusiasm for going.
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I have been following Alan Doyle's music for almost 30 years - from Great Big Sea to his now solo career, and from one coast to the other. I have seen him perform probably half a dozen times, and every time it is a great show. This was no different. I am so so glad I went. A great performer, and a wonderful musician, and just generally cool dude. (I did notice that he's finally starting to look older.)
And, I will admit, it is always great to bounce along to live music with a crowd!
ACCEPTED.Sending in law school application this morning. *anxiety*
I'm imagining a two-frame comic where, in the first frame, you are trying to drop your application into the mailbox, but you're struggling with an anthropomorphic representation of "Anxiety" (like in Family Circus or Shen Comix) that is pulling you back by your collar with one hand and trying to block the slot/push the mailbox deposit door closed with the other, but in the second panel, the big door on the front of the box has opened up and a big "ACCEPTED" reply letter sort of like the "I'm just a Bill" guy, except really buff and action hero-y is bursting out of it and tiger uppercutting the "Anxiety" dude right in his effing face.ACCEPTED.
hah! My anxiety is all consuming, even more so now that I’m committed!I'm imagining a two-frame comic where, in the first frame, you are trying to drop your application into the mailbox, but you're struggling with an anthropomorphic representation of "Anxiety" (like in Family Circus or Shen Comix) that is pulling you back by your collar with one hand and trying to block the slot/push the mailbox deposit door closed with the other, but in the second panel, the big door on the front of the box has opened up and a big "ACCEPTED" reply letter sort of like the "I'm just a Bill" guy, except really buff and action hero-y is bursting out of it and tiger uppercutting the "Anxiety" dude right in his effing face.
--Patrick
First you take our curler, now you're aiming for a kitchen store! Won't you ever leave Northern Ontario alone?ACCEPTED.
No no no. It's supposed to go like this:Promotion from Scientist II to Scientist III.
"No, I don't care if you created me, I ain't selling DILL-dos!"Yeah how long until we see Dill shilling deviled eggs or something?
--Patrick
"'Dill-Dohs!' The cylindrical-shaped cookies that satisfy you DEEP down!""No, I don't care if you created me, I ain't selling DILL-dos!"
"No, I don't care if you created me, I ain't selling DILL-dos!"
Tonight, I wrote out Dill's origin story for the character sheet.Calling this a hesitant minor victory, as I don't know how it'll turn out yet, but...
I'm joining a local tabletop RPG group. I was discussing on a Halifax Reddit post how I grew up playing Palladium Books' Heroes Unlimited. Someone messaged me and they want to host a Heroes Unlimited/TMNT game. I asked if I could play a mutant animal character, because then I could play you know who. Which works out well with a tabletop RPG, because a private detective is a perfect starting point for a game hook.
Turns out, they love the idea of an armadillo PI and want to make it the theme of the game, as a seedy noir world and all that. They have a group of other players, too.
Probably going to have the first game this weekend, so we'll see how it goes.
Got home earlier from my first session with the DM. I think it was more of a solo session specifically to see if I was a good fit, since we were strangers meeting through Reddit. Which I totally get and I was fine with.Tonight, I wrote out Dill's origin story for the character sheet.
Fun Fact: I never really fleshed out the specifics of Dill's origin story, even after all these years. In retrospect, I really should have, but since I wrote the books on a whim without much outlining, it didn't really come up. I had some vague ideas that he was grown in a lab, and some ideas on what the lab was, but outside of that, it never really came together. For some reason, the biggest stumbling block was naming the place. Since I've been thinking of his origin for the last few days, the name finally came to me and I really like it.
I had some rough book ideas for when Dill "went home." I wanted to take the foundation from Yojimbo or Fistful of Dollars, where the lone stranger enters a town with two warring gangs and runs amok. Only in this case, the two "gangs" would be the humans and the anthros.
Anyway, here's the bio I wrote out. It's a rough first draft, so I wouldn't consider it "canon" with my own books. But it's pretty close to what I'd already imagined in my head.
The name’s Dilbert Pinkerton; mutant armadillo, private detective. I dig for the truth.
And the truth is I came from a small town called St. Francis. You’ve never heard of it. No one has. Even though it’s a quiet suburban town in Florida, you’ll never find it on any map. See, St. Francis is home to Assisi Laboratories, where all kinds of weird animal mutating and splicing experiments goes on. Yeah, it’s all named after St. Francis Assisi. Trust me, I see the irony in it, too.
Anyway, the whole town is built from the foundation of this laboratory. Everyone works there in one form or another. All in the name of making the next mutant animal for the “betterment of mankind” or some malarkey. Any mutant animals - anthros, they call them - are indentured servants. None of them can leave. I was working as a glorified secretary for the local sheriff. He was an ass, but I picked up some things about the law and learned how to make a decent cup of java. Got my bad smoking habit from him, too.
How I got out is a goddamn miracle. Doc Crimson, an old WW2 war hero, happened to stumble across the town. The state had been hit by a bad hurricane and he was helping with cleanup. He didn’t even realize what he came across until he saw all the animals in town. He wound up helping with a local murder mystery and, well, he saw more in me than the Sheriff Colby saw. He wanted to take me under his wing as a protégé. Teach me how to solve crimes and all that stuff. He managed to sneak me out of town and I’ve never seen St. Francis since then. Doc said it was too big to take down. Too much red tape. He said maybe I could go back there sometime and free my fellow anthros. I don’t know if I ever wanna see that place again. There’s nothing for me there. I don’t even know if they’re looking for me.
I followed Doc around like a lost puppy for a spell. He taught me how to look for clues. Taught me how to shoot. Taught me how to use my nose for more than smelling farts. Doc retired some years ago, but he helped me set up shop with my own one-dillo detective agency. It’s not much, but it’s mine. I call it the Hovel Office. It’s a cheap basement office below a pet grooming salon. It’s a pigsty, and looks like several disasters hit it, but at least there’s always cockroaches to munch on. It’s a mess, but it’s my mess and I know where everything is.
Recently, I made friends with a local bartender, Tony Castillo. He runs a bar, Castillo’s. He’s as grumpy and foul tempered as I am, but we get along. I helped solve a case for him once, so now he begrudgingly lets me run up a bar tab. Turns out, he’s got powers. Nothing big, just some dog powers and he can talk to pooches. He tried the hero thing once, but it didn’t take. But he’ll help me with a case now and then.
It ain’t much of a life, but it’s something.