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Jubilations and Digressions

@jubdig / jubdig.tumblr.com

My name is Conor, and the creation of this blog is bound to be a terrible, terrible mistake. My family seems convinced the word jubilations is part of my regular vocabulary, and my typical thought process less resembles a train so much as a unicycle strapped to two jet engines pointed in opposite directions. So most of this stuff will be pretty random, though I'm sure patterns will emerge.
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koryos

@ichikun wanted me, a biologist, to give her ideas for how an alien species in Borderlands would reproduce. And then she regretted it

This is all I ever wanted from life: SCIENCE IN EVERYTHING. Like, there are so many funky things out there people can draw on for funky xenobio musings.

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jubdig

...what

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jubdig replied to your post:

Julia, Conor’s calling ya.

Oh ok, I mean I’ve never been to the East so IDK if they got prisons that look like prisons in the country of Columbia. If they did, I at least imagine that they’d have two spanish speaking brown guys hoping stan dies?

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jubdig

Colombia. The country is Colombia, after one one of the various latin language names of Columbus (Colombo or Colón ), while the District is running off the bastard English version we know. Useless spelling information away! 

Ah I didn’t know the spelling at all. Not much of a bicker, sry.

Nah it’s cool. It’s something I’ve gotten wrong before myself, which is the only category of errors I bother to correct people on.

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jubdig replied to your post:

Julia, Conor’s calling ya.

Oh ok, I mean I’ve never been to the East so IDK if they got prisons that look like prisons in the country of Columbia. If they did, I at least imagine that they’d have two spanish speaking brown guys hoping stan dies?

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jubdig

Colombia. The country is Colombia, after one one of the various latin language names of Columbus (Colombo or Colón ), while the District is running off the bastard English version we know. Useless spelling information away! 

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A Take on DHMIS

Since Don't Hug me I'm Scared and its sequel are swirling about tumblrspace, I took another look at both the original and the sequel. Fun, horrible times by all. A few of the individual lines and instances struck me as particularly interesting, and these eventually fermented into a sort of bullshit extrapolation of it all. Cue a very long quasi-meta, which I have no illusions on the validity of, but on the suggestions of a few friends I'll put it here. My apologies if these thoughts have already been posited by someone.

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reblogged

Druid: When can I summon my thoqqua?

DM: Never. It has too much potential to break the game.

Druid: But…*grumble*… Wait… Can I summon you?

Fighter: What happens if we kill the DM in game?

Monk: We become gods.

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Who might we have here?

First off, my apologies to the sundry friends who follow this blog out of familiarity to myself. But it would appear I must rouse this blog from its watchful slumber and dust off the keyboard at the great curiosity that is an unexpected guest.

After all, it is an unusual occurrence I receive visitors, and especially not one so mysterious. A blank blog with the french word for untitled? Is that just the automatic blog page title, or are they just being coy? Quite the caper I have on my hands. After all, who would bother to follow some no name blog that reblogged maybe twelve things a year and a half ago?

I mean, for all I know it's just some manner of automated doohicky or someone I actually know's discrete stalking blog. But for all I know, it could also be a serial killer beginning to study his or her or -insert other possessive pronoun here- prey.

What I mean to say is I'm on to you, mysterious french serial killer.

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Hey Theodore Roosevelt, remember that time someone tried to assassinate you, but you just laughed and proceeded to give a 90-minute long speech with the bullet lodged in your lung, where it remained for the rest of your life? Or when you tore up your leg after being thrown into piranha-infested waters while exploring uncharted Brazil? Or all those times you broke your ribs from falling off horses while doing bad-ass jumps? Or when you destroyed the sight in your left eye in a White House boxing match? Or that time you killed a cougar in a knife fight (seriously.)? And how the only way death could finally get to you was in your sleep, in the early morning on this day in 1919. Here's to TR as the infinite inspiration for pure, condensed badassery. ;)

Theodore Roosevelt, October 27, 1858 – January 6, 1919

“Death had to take him sleeping, for if Roosevelt had been awake there would have been a fight.”

 Original Badass.

All of our presidents combined can’t add up to how much of a badass he was.

TR Appreciation Post ‘12

Not to mention he was an attractive mother fucker.

Favorite president.

mah history crush~

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slusheeduck

Favorite American. Close tie for favorite person ever.

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eyevolve

THE GRAND GALACTIC INQUISITOR HEARS ALL! SEES ALL!

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