TwiLyghtSansSparkles

"Depends. Is Arsey on duty today?" "You know he is." "And was that him shouting in terror just now?" "…." "We plead the fifth."

Or would you ask the all-important question of "Who the heck is growing, shrinking, and cloning Timeport?"

Is…is this the moment when Scribbler and Edgerunner start calling guacamole "Arsenal repellent"?

Come on, Arsenal! You can eat the avocado and beat the corruption, or you can refuse and be corrupted and hungry.

Last night, a Buzzfeed article with healthy snack recipes showed up on my newsfeed. Most of the recipes were variations on boiled eggs and avocados, but it was the concluding line at the end that really caught my eye—and my strange imagination. What follows is a peek inside my thought process.

Sure. I mean, I don't have any working theories about extraterrestrials, but I don't see why there couldn't be life on other planets. "Doctor Who?"

What is the meaning of life?

An oxygen-rich blood substitute capable of doing all the things ordinary blood does. That grants me the ability to fly or something.

In the US, theoretically, you can get a job in anything from generic office work to public relations. And while it's true that many of those jobs call for a four-year degree, it doesn't account for (or explain) the fact that they almost all want at least one to three years of prior on-the-job experience. No, that doesn't make sense. I mean, why list a job as "entry level" if you're going to require all applicants to have prior experience? THAT IS NOT WHAT "ENTRY-LEVEL" MEANS, GUYS

Have you ever eaten a quesorito?

They're very comical-looking, for one, with their chubby bodies and headcrests and stubby little wings. But what really makes them hilarious, in my book, is the way they respond to danger. Picture two quail walking along an empty highway, bobbing their heads back and forth, when a car appears. "What the—oh no! It's a car! RUN!" "It's too fast, Larry! We'll never outrun it!" "It's gaining on us! AAAAGGGGHHHHH I'm so scared I'm flapping these useless appendages at my sides!" "So am I!" "AAAAAAHHHHHHHH WHY IS THE GROUND SO FAR AWAY NOW?" "WHY ARE WE MOVING FORWARD IN THE AIR AT AN ALARMING RATE?" "OKAY I'VE TOUCHED DOWN EVERYTHING IS OKAY NOW." "LAND! SWEET LAND!" I know they don't usually fly because they're so heavy for their size that flight is exhausting, but still. A Dutch mastiff. And yes, that's another name for pugs. You said I wasn't allowed to say "pug," but you didn't say he wasn't allowed to get a pug. Just that I couldn't say it. If he absolutely cannot have that specific breed of dog, then he should have the dinosaur from this clip I'm sure Jurassic Park fans would like to forget. The thought of the Doctor having a pet dinosaur that says nothing but "Alan!" is funny to me. When I first moved to Tucson with my parents, I had a communications degree but difficulty finding a job for it. And I looked everywhere. Long story short, I finally found a job as a library assistant at a local high school. It was full-time work for part-time pay; the school had too many rules that didn't make sense, no matter how much people tried to explain them ("Kids aren't allowed to bring Tylenol or other over-the-counter pills for minor aches and pains because if they fall on the floor then the Special Ed kids will think they're candy and eat them off the floor"); and half the teachers were crazy, but I fell in love with the things a librarian did. Those days when I got to help a student find a book they'd never read but wound up loving, or when I helped one of them with a project where they were stuck (one girl had trouble understanding exactly how the Columbia Plateau affected Washington State; having lived there, I explained that the Plateau essentially turns all of Central Washington into a desert while the East and West sides of the state are green and pretty) were some of the best on the job. I was laid off at the end of the year due to "budget cuts" (read: a public school-funding tax failed on the ballot, and the school didn't have enough money to keep me and other support staff on and renovate the football field ), but I'd already been accepted to the only American Library Association-accredited library program in town, which happened to be at a nationally recognized university, so it worked out okay. No. Are they good?

If they were monks, she'd be a Peace and Love Monk and he'd be a Law and Order Monk. Opposites attract.

Vapor Snake turns to smoke. Where there's smoke, there's fire. A fire Epic is slated to come to Oregon later. But I think he's already there, because... VAPOR SNAKE IS SECRETLY OBLITERATION!

What would they make her do...? Maybe Scribbler shrank them and slipped them into his hot chocolate. He wouldn't have noticed.

As much sense as your plan makes, if Backtrack does ask me where his glasses are, I'll default to the cheesy movie answer and tell him that "the thing you were looking for was inside you all along."

Oh please. Backtrack would cry in a corner because he thought my knitting needles looked scary. Besides, as one of this game's writers, I can make his glasses appear wherever I want. I could say Autumn gave them to Game offscreen and then Game put them in a safe with the other valuables and unless you decided Game broke them in half and buried the pieces in a shallow grave outside the clinic, I'd be right. Granted, it would make more sense to say she set them on some flat surface in the command center somewhere, but still.

In defense of the writer who lost his glasses in lack-of-detail-limbo, said writer thought the content of Autumn's rant and her thoughts at the end of the day were slightly more important than what happened to a pair of pink sunglasses.

Sure….let's go with that.

I don't really have a favorite mythological creature. I think different parts of myths speak to different people—some find a sense of wonder in selkies or phoenixes or sirens or what have you, but I find the creatures themselves just sort of….meh. It's the stories themselves that strike me, and some of my favorites come from the First Nations. I've never really liked Greek or Roman myths. Some of them are okay, but for me, they never really rose above the level of "okay," and I don't know why. I don't really use emojis, but I like the party hat. And I like it for a pretty dumb reason: When I'm just glancing at my teeny-tiny phone screen, the party hat kind of looks like a pizza slice, and I love pizza. I don't know that I have one. I love eagles and hawks and other birds of prey, but I also love graceful tropical birds like the quetzalcoatl. And I find quail hilarious and adorable in turns.

Even if they did, they'd probably be too burned to work properly. Have at it.

It is. And of course, the only other person who's allowed to talk is Mom. They do that all the time—they'll both do something they grouch at me and my siblings for doing, seemingly oblivious to the double standard.

After trying and failing to find any books at all on Spokane during WWII, I stumbled across a website dedicated to historic buildings and other locations there! There are articles, pictures, and even an interactive map! I can't wait to get exploring.

I'm sorry, but the Question must be phrased in the form of an Answer.

I could actually try that, where I live. And the upside is that it would make my car smell like cookies!