I want to be a stand-up comedian if I grow up. Might want to get insurance against pun-induced brain damage, though. Decisions, decisions…
Kudos to Felicia Day for inspiring the pun barrage with this tweet.
Category: on stuff and sundry
I’ve recently written that Patrick Rothfuss’s Book-3 probably wouldn’t come out anytime soon. (Along with some other predictions.) Well, I guess I was wrong! In my not-at-all-obsessive quest for more video interviews with Pat, I found this recent (5/11/16) video interview.
Aside from the sheer awesomeness that is Pat’s office (I count at least 15 owl-bears), there’s also a very important update: he said he’s currently editing the book to get it shorter, better and more dynamic. In his own words, he’s going through it and trying to cut out approximately 100,000 words. It’s kind of humbling to think he’s going to cut enough words to write an average, non-Rothfuss-sized novel.
So, assuming the book is already written and currently undergoing the editing process, the release date draws closer yet. It probably won’t come out in time for Christmas, but who knows – maybe we’ll get it at some point within a year. Don’t know about y’all, but I’m going to make sure to have a week’s worth of vacation saved up and ready to use just for this occasion…
Update: it has been 2 years and 3 months since this post was originally written. Book three is not here, nor is it on the horizon. Instead, the country is ruled by an angry orange clown, and all is not well. Sorry if you got excited about reading this blog’s subject line.
A couple, walking hand in hand amidst the kaleidoscopic majesty of blooming flora, passionately discussing mutual funds.
I chased a mustachioed crow through the sun-speckled streets of Seattle.
Two cute little girls appeared from thin air and offered me higher power.
“I have been waiting for you, sir,” said a homeless entrepreneur.
A creepy banker tried to high-five me, but I left him hanging.
Beauty. Ignorance. Seascapes.
The 27th century is a sausagefest.
Every proper mad scientist needs a cow in his lab.
Bad guys suck at shooting.
Good guys never miss.
The dystopian future will have badass leather jackets.
If at first you don’t succeed, drop some acid and repeat.
Bulletproof vests are for chickens – skintight white shirts and cool-looking coats are obviously more functional. (Except when they’re not.)
If you shoot somebody with a tranquilizer gun, they’ll pass out that very instant.
Ditto for bullets.
And blows to the head.
Your whole world’s timeline got reset and the mentally unstable people with superpowers whom you’ve apprehended in the past are still free? Meh.
When needed, bad guys can knock out good guys and switch clothes with them in less than a minute.
Mentally unstable old people with bad memory may not be the best secret-keepers, especially if the secret is key to saving the world.
No matter what happens, there will always be just enough time for a heartfelt 3-minute discussion about feelings.
The only thing we have to fear is fear itself. (And bald people in black suits.)
Nobody will ever recognize you if you put on a hoodie.
Facial recognition on omnipresent cameras: 60% of the time, it works every time.
You can’t have a resistance movement without a rugged-looking Irishman.
Grigory Lukin.com 