On today, of all days, this made me laugh when on any other I'd have just closed the thread.

Great job

Spasibo, Yuri Popovich.

[This message has been edited by Moff Yittreas (edited 03-07-2017 @ 12:54 PM).]

is yuri time

I bring this flower to contribute. Thank goodness for safe search.

Well, that explains a lot

I.. Uhm.. What?

*splashes*

...No one else has even posted a competing theme.

Did somebody say... yuri?

I -

*disk in flight* Oh, no...

*spams Flak Tracks*

Do... do I win by default?

I guess.

hooeee this is a bizarre topic.

...Ironically enough, Yuri Gagarin's birthday is on March 9. Clearly, we should've let Mithril's thread drag out even longer.

Quoted from the Moff:

Do... do I win by default?

Unfortunately, SpoilerFest had to be cancelled due to scheduling conflicts.

So it would seem so.

Crud. That means also means I'm still married to Lurkur and Sipia. And we have to figure out which boat Lurkur is.

...Submarines are good at lurking, but things are already loli enough...

...

(asdf because apparently you can't just submit '...')

*drinks my wodka*

Probably shouldn't do that while drawing. I hope the client will appreciate wobbly walls.

[This message has been edited by oliver (edited 03-07-2017 @ 10:37 PM).]

Hey, maybe it will become the latest thing in modern homemaking.

And if we should see a building with deliberately shaky walls, we shall credit them as being inspired by the works of one quite artistic person:

I present to you: Waldkas by oliver of Oliver Island.

I imagine the masons would take all the credit of any fashionable wobbliness.

Of course. Those free-bird-masons would take credit for any stone that passes.

We're not married you stupid moff. You kissed a passing cat in front of a trashcan in the alley while completely shitfaced... Presumably from rather too much wodka, judging from the smell that day. Seriously you need to sort yourself up, you still reek of the stuff

[This message has been edited by Lurkur (edited 03-08-2017 @ 01:29 AM).]

Lemme tell you; getting a driver's license as an autistic person is a barrel of laughs. I'm being taught by a driving instructor who specializes in people like me. It really does help, I'm not sure if I'd get anywhere without him, but naturally he also charges... a considerable fee for his services. And they say college is what will put you in debt.

On top of that, the government bureau requires me to have a little chat with a psychiatrist to determine whether or not I'm capable of driving in spite of my condition. Fair enough. I'll also need to fill in this online form, print it out, and take it with me. Yeah, okay, I can do that. But before we let you print out the form, that'll be 34 euros. Wait, what, why?! The entire process was automated! There's literally no reason to charge me for this, especially since they're the ones who made this process mandatory in the first place! Cheeky bastards.

Oh, and I'll be paying for the psychiatrist myself, too, of course. And I thought the driving instructor was expensive. Do you know how many games I could buy from this money?

In total, this joke cost me more than my dad earns in a full day of work, all for what amounts to a piece of paper I filled in myself and half an hour of playing Twenty Questions with the good doctor. And the thought that at the end of all this, some desk monkey will take a cursory glance at the report (after six whole weeks of doing nothing, of course, because efficiency is only ever expected from my end), mumble "Eh, okay" and slap the "approve" button after which this whole thing will be meaningless makes me sick. I get why this needs to happen, but how it happens, now that's another story entirely. Even the most obstructive bureaucrats would blush at this nonsense.

And after all that there'll be a test where someone from the bureau will sit in the backseat and have a look-see at how well I drive. At least this time it has practical relevance.

From the sounds of that, I wonder if I shouldn't be happy I was diagnosed after I finished all those early adulthood obligations.

I've never met another autistic person in real life, so I have no clue what they/you/I/we are supposed to be. I kind-of hope they also take pride in being able to divide an A3-paper into two perfect halves with 0.00015% error margin.

Hah! I can't even draw in a straight line.

Both are completely useless as a professional, I can tell you.

Nobody gave me credit at the office, either, for arranging all the magazines in series of conchoids with positive values of a.

(Actually, that's a lie. I just made wavy patterns I liked. They still didn't notice. Bastards.)

Even the most obstructive bureaucrats would blush at this nonsense.

And to think the process to get a hunting license here in Georgia can be completed in under 24 hours for a 13-year-old.