Tanis Nikana

This is because you’ve accepted a meeting that happens at a location not in the building; for example, someone else’s PTO reminder that they’ve invited you to. Decline that invitation, and you’re fine.

I’m an author of two books, and whenever someone asks me for a copy (or even says they want to read it), I straight-up hand them a free ebook. I just want people to read me.

I usually spend my time in MahjongDS, played through Delta on my phone. However, despite it being a really good mahjong game, it’s in Japanese only.

Honestly, that one’s pretty good. Three in the back seat and one in the passenger seat and they all get to play locally-networked riichi on long road trips.

Sorry, driver, no room for a fifth.

(Source: once landed daisangen while riding bitch)

I think it’ll have to be the LX-III, been playing through Porgy again.

“She skewers you.”

“We’re getting skewered again? Doesn’t she, y’know, ever change this up?”

“‘Fraid not. Stabby implements of various sorts are the focus of this love story. Anyway. Skewered. You.”

We walked in, sat down, Obie came in with the twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy pictures with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one, sat down. Man came in said, “All rise.” We all stood up, and Obie stood up with the twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy pictures, and the judge walked in sat down with a seeing eye dog, and he sat down, we sat down. Obie looked at the seeing eye dog, and then at the twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy pictures with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one, and looked at the seeing eye dog. And then at twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy pictures with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one and began to cry, 'cause Obie came to the realization that it was a typical case of American blind justice, and there wasn’t nothing he could do about it, and the judge wasn’t going to look at the twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy pictures with the circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explaining what each one was to be used as evidence against us.

Measuring games by weight? Neat.

March of the Dreadnoughts, from Final Fantasy XIII!

https://youtu.be/VZw9O0julsA?si=5CAsmLXxJLI-AmgZ

I think it’s my favorite instrumental piece of music.

HOW IN THE FUCK

This thing’s so good.

Personal favorites include Campanella 2, Magic Garden, and Attactics.

I started out as a quizmaster, telling quiz for a night a week. I’d open my show with a new 45-second bit each week, built audience numbers over time.

Then I realized I’d been doing this for years, and was an incredibly prolific comic! I had enough material I could just walk out onto a stage and just lengthen out my opening bits, cause I no longer had a quiz to tell that night!

“I’m a stand-up comic.”

“Ooh! Heckle me!”

“I don’t know anything about you and don’t wanna say anything mean about you. Just enjoy the moment without getting a performer to do free work for you.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Don’t have to be on all the time, let me eat my burger.”

Jason Pargin is a goddamn hero.

Yup, there’s three rules about food:

1. Don’t eat what will kill you.
2. Eat stuff that tastes good.
3. Eat stuff that’s good for you.

As long as you never break rule one and only occasionally break rules 2 and 3, you’ll have a good time.

One time a girl invited me to sleep with her, and I looked at her filthy pillowcases and bullshitted my way into sleeping on her couch, after countering her insistence with the extreme option of “if you’re not gonna let me sleep on your couch, I’m going home.”

I thought she literally meant actual sleep, and what she wanted was sex.

I slept on her couch and she sobbed softly through a closed door.

I found out about a decade later, from a mutual friend, that girl had the biggest hots for me and was gonna stop at nothing to fuck me.

Well, she was stopped by my obliviousness.

I was ace and sex-repulsed even back then, so even if I had figured her out, I prolly would have had a small panic attack and tried to go home.

Yup, I mostly just assume everyone except my wife doesn’t really want anything to do with me and that I’m probably a giant creep to everyone else, so I don’t make eye contact and I try my best to ignore hints lest I get them wrong.

The hilarious part of all this is that I’m asexual and sex-repulsed, and I’m one of the least creepy and perverted people on the planet, but try telling my subconscious that.

I even check in with my wife sometimes and ask her if she still loves me. She does.

Years.

Asexual and sex-repulsed married lesbian here. Although I love my wife romantically very much, I don’t want to do anything to her chest.

I’ve bought a house, got married, published two books, do stand-up and host a small game show, survived two strokes, transitioned, and have a lot of friends who think I’m tolerable.