Nifty Quotes

Daemon arched a brow. “You don’t wanna play, Barf, because we can do that nifty freeze thing and play, right here and now.” Oh, for the love of backwoods babies everywhere, this wasn’t necessary. I wrapped my fingers around Daemon’s tense arm. “Come on,” I whispered.

Unbelievable," I heard Christian mutter behind me. "She toops them both?" I head Drustan ask. "And they permit it?" Dageus sounded baffled. I looked between V'lane and Barrons. "This isn't even about me." "You're wrong about that." Barrons reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. "You know how to find me if you want me." He was walking away. "More nifty acronyms?" He was gone.

Well, aren’t you a massive prick,” I said, quietly, under the roar of the helicopter. “What?” Sanders asked. “I said, ‘That’s a nifty trick.

Who,” said the man, his accent thick and British, “are you?” “The Great Pumpkin,” I responded. “I’ve risen from the pumpkin patch a bit early because Butters is just that nifty. And you are?

He was a nifty dancer and his charm bowled her over.

For the love of Mary, I get it, she's got a nifty twat. Tell me what I need to know and you can go up there and try'n get back into it.

Our fans are great; our team is nifty! We’re going to get blown out by fifty!

[in regards to Chad's Nifty Over Fifty Moustache and Beard Darkener] "'Dark Bravado Blonde, Number 143.' The name alone makes my loins all aquiver." --Amber

Places are supposed to look smaller when you go back to them, but my road just looked schizoid. A couple of the houses had had nifty little makeovers involving double glazing and amusing faux-antique pastel paint; most of them hadn't. Number 16 looked like it was on its last legs: the roof was in tatters, there was a pile of bricks and a dead wheelbarrow by the front steps, and at some point in the last twenty years someone had set the door on fire. In Number 8, a window on the first floor was lit up, gold and cozy and dangerous as hell.

Focus, Wayne,” Wax said. “How are we going to get in? Shall we try a Fat Belt?” “Nah,” Wayne said, “too loud. I think we should do Spoiled Tomato.” “Dangerous,” Wax said, shaking his head. “I’d have to do the placement just right, between the lit perimeter and the shadowed part near the walls.” “You can do it. You make shots like that all the time. Plus, we got this shiny new metalmind, full o’ health waitin’ to be slurped up.” “A mistake could ruin the whole infiltration, healing power or no,” Wax said. “I think we should do Duck Under Clouds instead.” “You kiddin’?” Wayne said. “Didn’t you get shot last time we tried that?” “Kinda,” Wax admitted. MeLaan stared at them, baffled. “Duck under Clouds?” “They get like this,” Marasi said, patting her on the shoulder. “Best not to listen too closely.” “Tube Run,” Wayne said. “No glue.” “Banefielder?” “Too dark.” “Blackwatch Doublestomp.” Wax hesitated. “… The hell is that?” “Just made it up,” Wayne said, grinning. “It’s a nifty code name though, eh?” “Not bad,” Wax admitted. “And what type of plan is it?” “Same as Spoiled Tomato,” Wayne said.

I like myself. Other than some late blooming magickal powers and some sealed legal records, I think I'm pretty fucking nifty. -Mariketa

I'm in position." Charlie's voice, coming through my earpiece. "Wish I could say the same. All the blood's rushing to my head." "Thrope stuff?" Charlie sounds a little worried. "No, I'm upside down." "Why?" "I thought it would make me look all cool and ninja-y." "No one's supposed to be bale to see you." "Ah. I knew there was a flaw in my plan. Also, i slipped." "In fact, the whole point of being a ninja is not to be seen." "Fortunately I have this nifty safety harness, which is why I'm dangling instead of plummeting. Thanks for asking.

So I turned on the tube (throwback slang from the Nifty Fifties; televisions no longer have tubes) and channel-surfed for awhile. On

I'm pretty nifty at thinking on my feet, even when I'm actually sitting down with a renter in my embrace, but this fellow's sudden appearance had me more than a little stumped

I will trade you my soul for coffee," they'd said solemnly. Then, when they saw that all Ava had were Nifty! brand beans from PriceLow, they cringed and said, "Those only get part of my soul.

All Indo-European languages have the capacity to form compounds. Indeed, German and Dutch do it, one might say, to excess. But English does it more neatly than most other languages, eschewing the choking word chains that bedevil other Germanic languages and employing the nifty refinement of making the elements reversible, so that we can distinguish between a houseboat and a boathouse, between basketwork and a workbasket, between a casebook and a bookcase. Other languages lack this facility.

I prefer Ms. because it is similar to Mr. A man is Mr. whether married or not, a woman is Ms. whether married or not. So please teach Chizalum that in a truly just society, women should not be expected to make marriage-based changes that men are not expected to make. Here’s a nifty solution: Each couple that marries should take on an entirely new surname, chosen however they want as long as both agree to it, so that a day after the wedding, both husband and wife can hold hands and joyfully journey off to the municipal offices to change their passports, driver’s licenses, signatures, initials, bank accounts, etc.

My "do" now consisted of some really nifty spikes on top. I looked like a punker, but it was kind of fun, if you want to know the truth. Next thing I knew I'd be getting my ears pierced and chewing gum in public, social sins my auntie had always warned me about, along with red nail polish and dingy bra straps.

But my mother-in-law didn’t admit to mistakes, a nifty little trait she’d handed down to her son.

When everybody thinks the same thing—such as what a sure bet the Nifty 50 is—it is almost certainly reflected in the price, and betting on it is probably going to be a mistake.

Intuition was often a way of cutting corners, a nifty technique of replacing hard evidence and facts with something far more elusive and capricious. The worst investigators Carlson knew relied on so-called intuition.

As my mom sees it, her dry, flaky skin is some immigrant’s vocational opportunity. Plus, hurting her offers immigrants a nifty cathartic therapy for venting their rage. Her chapped lips and split ends constitute someone’s rungs up the socioeconomic ladder to escape poverty. Sliding into middle age complete with cellulite and scaly elbows, my mother has become an economic engine, generating millions of dollars which will be wired to feed families and purchase cholera medicine in Ecuador. Should she ever decide to “let herself go,” no doubt tens of thousands would perish.

Evangelicals are too easily duped by the latest way to reach people, whether it be the Internet, nifty brochures, or musical extravaganzas. The entire approach puts more responsibility on the leadership to be creative and raise funds than it does on the members of the church to effectively penetrate their worlds for Christ.

Stock market doesn't only teaches to make money but it also teaches lot about life, patience, persistence and wisdom.

Why did the chicken cross the road.” Vera ignored him. “To get to the idiot’s house... Knock knock.” “Who’s there,” said Vera. “The chicken.

And at the same time I was careful not to step on any of the cracks. "Bears," I exclaimed merrily — being practically impossible to hoodwink and simultaneously doing one of my nifty little dances, nifty and artistic, "bears, look at me walking in just the squares!" I believe that on the second occasion somebody actually heard me — yes, and saw me, too! Oh, Lordy Moses!

One time I sat down in a bath where there was a beautiful girl sitting with a guy who didn’t seem to know her. Right away I began thinking, “Gee! How am I gonna get started talking to this beautiful nude babe?” I’m trying to figure out what to say, when the guy says to her, “I’m, uh, studying massage. Could I practice on you?” “Sure,” she says. They get out of the bath and she lies down on a massage table nearby. I think to myself, “What a nifty line! I can never think of anything like that!” He starts to rub her big toe. “I think I feel it,” he says. “I feel a kind of dent—is that the pituitary?” I blurt out, “You’re a helluva long way from the pituitary, man!” They looked at me, horrified—I had blown my cover—and said, “It’s reflexology!” I quickly closed my eyes and appeared to be meditating. That’s just an example of the kind of things that overwhelm me. I also looked into extrasensory perception and PSI phenomena, and the latest craze there was Uri Geller, a man who is supposed to be able to bend keys by rubbing them with his finger. So I went to his hotel room, on his invitation, to see a demonstration of both mindreading and bending keys. He didn’t do any mindreading that succeeded; nobody can read my mind, I guess. And my boy held a key and Geller rubbed it, and nothing happened. Then he told us it works better under water, and so you can picture all of us standing in the bathroom with the water turned on and the key under it, and him rubbing the key with his finger. Nothing happened. So I was unable to investigate that phenomenon.

People who don’t play golf pro to envy their golfing neighbors, admiring it as a nifty game you can play to a ripe old age. What they don’t understand is that we don’t keep playing because we can; we play because we don’t know how to stop. It lands in our hands for just a moment before slipping through our fingers, and we grab for it again and again. It’s a shell game, a music man, a three-card monte from which we can’t walk away. Once in a while it glances back at us, and it’s achingly beautiful. A siren? Perhaps. But those sailors at least got the closure of wrecking on the rocks. Golfers find the rocks and just drop another ball.

That same day we drove to Seville to celebrate. I asked someone for the name of the smartest hotel in Seville. Alfonso XIII, came the reply. It is where the King of Spain always stays. We found the hotel and wandered in. It was amazing. Shara was a little embarrassed as I was dressed in shorts and an old holey jersey, but I sought out a friendly-looking receptionist and told her our story. “Could you help us out? I have hardly any money.” She looked us up and down, paused--then smiled. “Just don’t tell my manager,” she whispered. So we stayed in a $1,000-a-night room for $100 and celebrated--like the King of Spain. The next morning we went on a hunt for a ring. I asked the concierge in my best university Spanish where I would find a good (aka well-priced) jeweler. He looked a little surprised. I tried speaking slower. Eventually I realized that I had actually been asking him where I might find a good mustache shop. I apologized that my Spanish was a little rusty. Shara rolled her eyes again, smiling. When we eventually found a small local jeweler, I had to do some nifty subcounter mathematics, swiftly converting Spanish pesetas into British pounds, to work out whether or not I could afford each ring Shara tried on. We eventually settled on one that was simple, beautiful--and affordable. Just. Love doesn’t require expensive jewelry. And Shara has always been able to make the simple look exquisite. Luckily.

The Taliban recruit with a nifty combination of presenting both immense horror and a way out.

You read—seen—Lord of the Rings?” “Yessss…” “Ever wondered why they didn’t just get the damn eagles to go drop the One Ring into the volcano, since they seemed so damn nifty at getting into Mordor anyway?

They are usually great because they love ideas and asking questions – so they usually have an appetite for nifty ideas and good questions

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as the manager of the club explained, you didn’t have a dog and bark yourself. They brought in the punters – along with the named DJs, who were a breed apart already. Not that he was complaining, of course. And as he was now going to be one of the main drug suppliers, he knew that it would be like printing money. Clubs, drink, girls and drugs went hand in hand for this generation, and that suited him right down to the ground. He was meeting with Willy McCormack that evening. Angus knew him from the days when he used to come out here on holiday as a kid with his mum and dad. He had not known till recently that his mum had invested heavily out here and was considered one of the old guard by everyone. She was a shrewdie all right. If it had been left to his old man, he would have just treated this place as a massive piss-up. Angus knew that he had a lot of his father in him – he could be a flake. But he also knew that he had his mother in him too and he was determined to make sure that, as much as he liked to play, he got the work sorted first. He heard the bedroom door open and watched as a tall redhead with lightly tanned skin, wearing his soiled shirt, walked towards him. In the clear light of day she wasn’t as nifty as she had seemed the night before, but she was still what he would class a sort. She went into the small kitchen and started to make coffee. He assumed she had been here before, and that didn’t surprise him in the least.

I have discovered a hidden vision switch with a default position in the minds of church leaders. But this default setting is not just about missing out on a nifty feature. It’s about a fundamental mode of thinking that’s limiting us.

I want to reiterate that the “textbook definition” of delta has nothing to do with the probability of options finishing in- or out-of-the-money. Again, delta is simply the amount an option price will move based on a $1 change in the underlying stock. But looking at delta as the probability an option will finish in-the-money is a pretty nifty way to think about it. And if there’s one thing I want to encourage in this playbook, it’s nifty ways of thinking about options.

Do something today your future self will thank you for!  Don’t give up what you want for what you want right now!

A Sumerian word like munintuma’a (‘when he had made it suitable for her’) might seem rather trim compared to the Turkish colossus above. What is so impressive about it, however, is not its lengthiness, but rather the reverse: the thrifty compactness of its construction. The word is made up of different ‘slots’ , each corresponding to a particular portion of meaning. This sleek design allows single sounds to convey useful information, and in fact even the absence of a sound has been enlisted to express something specific. If you were to ask which bit in the Sumerian word corresponds to the pronoun ‘it’ in the English translation ‘when he had made it suitable for her’, then the answer would have to be … nothing. Mind you, a very particular kind of nothing: the nothing that stands in the empty slot in the middle. The technology is so fine-tuned, then, that even a non-sound, when carefully placed in a particular position, has been invested with a specific function. Who could possibly have come up with such a nifty contraption?

Monday morning was the worst possible time to have an existential crisis, I decided on a Monday morning, while having an existential crisis. Ideal crisis hours were obviously Friday afternoons, because you had a full weekend afterward to turn back into a person. You could get away with Saturday if you were efficient about it. Mondays, though—on Mondays, you had to size up the tsunami of work that loomed in the near distance and cobble together a survival strategy. There was no time for the crisis cycle: 1) teary breakdown, 2) self-indulgent wallowing, 3) questioning whether life had meaning, and 4) limping toward recovery. Four nifty stages. Like the water cycle, but soul-crushing.

and loss plotted against different expiry prices for the Nifty index for this trade.

hugelkultur, a method of burying logs in earthen mounds as the basis for gardens, a nifty function-stacking that stores nutrients and moisture in the soil while sequestering the carbon of waste wood that might otherwise be burned.

Got my Mac. It’s amazing. Now that I have it, I’m hooked. I won’t even try to begin to describe all its nifty features. It’s my new electronic friend. It’s exciting, having a new computer and learning all about it and looking forward to coming home at the end of the day and playing with it. I’ve been jaded for too long.

Perhaps it had something to do with the case becoming too neat, all the evidence suddenly lining up and cooperating with their theory. Or maybe his doubts were based on something as unreliable as “intuition,” though Carlson had never been a big fan of that particular aspect of investigative work. Intuition was often a way of cutting corners, a nifty technique of replacing hard evidence and facts with something far more elusive and capricious. The worst investigators Carlson knew relied on so-called intuition. He

Although I hate to read publicly, I began to get addicted to speaking publicly. For a grandiose opportunist like myself, AA can become a nifty little public speaking venue. As a professional comedian, I would often go for the laugh rather than honesty and growth. I began to chase the laughs with the same vigor and enthusiasm that I used to chase drugs and alcohol.

How to Save on Your Mortgage - Money and Investing with Andrew Baxter How to Save on Your Mortgage Low interest rates have offered a great opportunity to investors to enter the market cheaply over the last few years, but that is about to change. In this week’s Money and Investing Show, tune in as host Andrew Baxter runs through some nifty ways to keep up on your repayments with higher interest rates:

FOREWORD When Commander Perry opened up to the occidental world that shut-tight little island Kingdom, Japan, he did more than merely contact for our manufacturers a people who bought "Nifty Clothes," with two pair of pants. He gave us an insight into a world that was thoroughly organized and civilized long before Columbus discovered West where the East should have been. The Japanese learned much from the so-called civilized world, -but they taught us something we could never have learned from intercourse with any other nation. They gave our governmental forces of law and order a weapon that aided materially in the suppression of disorderly elements throughout our great cities. It took time, of course, to break down the prejudices that our early enforcement officers, in common with our then wild and wooly population, had against anything that was foreign. But when the great police forces of our largest metropolises realized that guns and billies alone would not be proof against big, burly lawbreakers, and that to instil respect in the hearts of "bruisers" they needed something other than armaments—pistols that could not be drawn fast enough,—they then discovered the wonder of Jiu-jitsu. They found that the wily little brown man depended on brain instead of brawn and that he had developed a Science and an Art that utilized another's strength to his own undoing. Strangely enough it was the layman who first appreciated the potential value of Jiu-jitsu. For many years before the Police Forces of our cities put a study of this Science into the training of every rookie policeman, there were physical culture experts in America who advocated the use of it by everyone who had any respect for physical prowess but who found the spirit more willing than the flesh. They showed that it needed no possession of unusual strength to overcome an opponent that depended entirely on his bulk and ferocious appearance to cow the meeker ones of the earth into submission. The Japanese, by the very fact of their small stature, are compelled to place more emphasis on strategy than on force. Thus they have thoroughly developed Jiu-jitsu and there is barely a saffron-hued tot in Japan that doesn't know something about the "Gentle-Art" as it is known. President Masaryk of Czechoslovakia, one of the world's greatest educators, who, together with millions of his enlightened and progressive countrymen, is a firm believer in "a strong mind in a strong body," sought to teach every schoolboy in his country some knowledge of the wisest of all physical sciences. While it does not itself develop and build muscle, it is an invaluable aid to the sensible use of the body. It is a form of wrestling that combines the cunning of the fox with the lithe grace and agility of the panther. It sharpens the brain and quickens the nerve centers. The man or woman who has self-respect must not sit by and permit our people to become a nation of spectators watching athletic specialists perform, while we become obese and ungainly applauders. Jiu-jitsu gives the man, woman and child, denied by nature a great frame, the opportunity to walk without fear, to resist successfully the bullies of their particular world, and the self-confidence which only a "well-armed" athlete can have. By its use, differences in weight, height and reach are practically wiped out, so that he who knows, may smilingly face superior odds and conquer.

Could we go somewhere that's inside and not raining?" she asked. She kissed him again and tasted espresso. "I have a place like that in mind." He gently pulled her hair as she bit his lower lip. "And I have an idea of how to warm you up." She rubbed her thumb against the back of his neck. "Don't tell me you have those nifty hand warmers." His hands spread across her rain-soaked back, and then slid down, down, down until they rested at the curve of her ass. "What I have in mind will warm up more than just your hands," she eventually said. "A heated blanket? I do love those.

But traveling faster than light would require infinite energy; it is possible on paper, not in practice. More recently, physicists have theorized other ways that physical travel into the past could be achieved, but they are still exotic and expensive. A technological civilization thousands or more years in advance of our own, one able to harness the energy of its whole galaxy, could create a wormhole linking different points in the fabric of spacetime and send a spaceship through it.8 It is an idea explored widely in science fiction and depicted vividly in Christopher Nolan’s 2014 film Interstellar. But all this is academic for our purposes. For Gleick, what we are really talking about with time travel is a thought experiment about the experiencer—the passenger—in a novel, disjointed relationship to the external world. We can readily perform feats of “mental time travel,” or at least simulate such feats, as well as experience a dissociation between our internal subjective sense of time and the flux of things around us and even our own bodies.9 According to Gleick, part of what suddenly facilitated four-dimensional thinking in both popular writing and the sciences was the changing experience of time in an accelerating society. The Victorian age, with its steam engines and bewildering pace of urban living, increased these experiences of dissociation, and they have only intensified since then. Time travel, Gleick argues, is basically just a metaphor for modernity, and a nifty premise upon which to base literary and cinematic fantasies that repair modernity’s traumas. It also shines a light on how confused we all are about time. The most commonly voiced objection to time travel—and with it, precognition—is that any interaction between the future and past would change the past, and thus create a different future. The familiar term is the grandfather paradox: You can’t go back in time and kill your grandfather because then you wouldn’t have been born to go back in time and kill your grandfather (leaving aside for the moment the assumed inevitability of wanting to kill your grandfather, which is an odd assumption). The technical term for meddling in the past this way is “bilking,” on the analogy of failing to pay a promised debt.10 Whatever you call it, it is the kind of thing that, in Star Trek, would make the Enterprise’s computer start to stutter and smoke and go haywire—the same reaction, in fact, that greets scientific claims of precognition. (As Dean Radin puts it, laboratory precognition results like those cited in the past two chapters “cause faces to turn red and sputtering noises to be issued from upset lips.”11) Information somehow sent backward in time from an event cannot lead to a future that no longer includes that event—and we naturally intuit that it would be very hard not to have such an effect if we meddled in the timeline. Our very presence in the past would change things.

I wan

I peered over at Morty, whom I'd clearly never seen before. This round old man in his empty store, for whom I'd never felt anything but pity, had just told me off in ways he could not imagine. He put it all together: Brian's networks, the bank vice president's universe of transactions, the software I write, the systems I install, the sexy bouts of software writing—all that was suddenly and clearly related to the world's financial center now all emptied of people. It's the modems: computing as a kind of neutron bomb, making all the people disappear, leaving the buildings.    In my world, it would be so easy to forget the empty downtowns. The whole profession encouraged us: stay here, alone, home by this nifty color monitor. Just click. Everything you want—it's just a click away. Everything in my world made me want to forget how—as landlord, as programmer, as landlord/programmer helping to unpeople buildings like my very own—I was implicated in the fate of Morty and the bag shop.

Here’s a nifty solution: Each couple that marries should take on an entirely new surname, chosen however they want as long as both agree to it, so that a day after the wedding, both husband and wife can hold hands and joyfully journey off to the municipal offices to change their passports, driver’s licenses, signatures, initials, bank accounts, etc.

The lesson? When everybody thinks the same thing—such as what a sure bet the Nifty 50 is—it is almost certainly reflected in the price, and betting on it is probably going to be a mistake.

The reality agent, she persist on promenading Randy through the futility room, the pouter room, a walled-in closet, the reckless nook, the tedium room, and the nifty home offense, when Randy already be sold.

The problem was that even if individual fund managers thought differently, when taken as a group they became the market. They would align with the performance of the Sensex. In fact, the bigger the fund, the closer it was to imitating the Sensex or the Nifty 50.

IDEO is one of the world’s most respected design firms—the creator of everything from those fat-handled toothbrushes for kids to Apple Computer’s first mouse to the Palm V. How do they do it? The secret would make an MBA squirm: Empathy. In the IDEO universe, great design doesn’t begin with a cool drawing or a nifty gadget. It begins with a deep and empathic understanding of people.

In December 1972, Polaroid was selling for 96 times its 1972 earnings, McDonald’s was selling for 80 times, and IFF was selling for 73 times; the Standard & Poor’s Index of 500 stocks was selling at an average of 19 times. The dividend yields on the Nifty-Fifty averaged less than half the average yield on the 500 stocks in the S&P Index. The proof of this particular pudding was surely in the eating, and a bitter mouthful it was. The dazzling prospect of earnings rising up to the sky turned out to be worth a lot less than an infinite amount. By 1976, the price of IFF had fallen 40% but the price of U.S. Steel had more than doubled. Figuring dividends plus price change, the S&P 500 had surpassed its previous peak by the end of 1976, but the Nifty-Fifty did not surpass their 1972 bull-market peak until July 1980. Even worse, an equally weighted portfolio of the Nifty-Fifty lagged the performance of the S&P 500 from 1976 to 1990.

That this woman talking to him had large, melting brown eyes and long brown hair the color of a doe’s, on a face meant for an artist’s canvas, all attached to a nifty little compact body that could tempt the gods meant nothing. She was insane.

Really? That’s all you have to do to make someone go away? Like, ‘poof’, they’re just… gone? Christ, had I known that, I’d have gotten rid of a lot of people by now. You’re actually pretty lucky I didn’t have this nifty gift back when we first met.

Do you remember old Harry Hopwood, Inspector?” “Of course. He was one of the first major arrests I made.” “Right. Nabbed him after that break-in on Greek Street you did. But there was a good deal of swag that was never recovered. Lot of old coins, for instance.” “Yes. There was a goodish reward offered for their return.” “Right. Well, old Harry’s dead, died about two months ago. We was pals in the clink, and knowing he was mortal sick and not likely to make it out the gate, he told me where he’d hid the stuff, and I thought I’d like to tell you.” “Oh? To collect the reward?” “No. I don’t want the reward. They can give it to Mr. Norwood here for that society of his. I’m just trying to prove to everyone that, from now on, I’m really going straight.” “Nifty, I won’t say I’m surprised,” said Wyatt, “because I’m not. I’m dumbfounded, dumb-foozled, and just plain bowled-over!

I saw the the eternal touch of my generation destroyed, How I mourned the kiss. Down, down, down into the darkness of the kiss, Gently it goes - the unceasing, the long, the lasting. How happy is the great affection! Now nifty is just the thing, To get me wondering if the affection is keen. I cannot help but stop and look at the zany liking. Now unreasonable is just the thing, To get me wondering if the liking is buffoonish.

trading. If you have strong discipline but negative edge system, you will lose over period of time. Similarly, if you have positive edge system and discipline but overleverage, then one black swan event will shut down your trading business. “Men

So Black women come up with life hacks. These life hacks don't involve nifty use for egg cartons of finding unique ways to use paper clips. They involve helping one another write emails to our supervisors or coworkers, which we know will be scrutinized for tone. Our life hacks include keeping folders in our in-boxes where we place every single email that praises our project, attitude, or giftedness. This is not for our self-esteem; it's an insurance policy, because we know there are emails being sent to our bosses that say the opposite. Our life hacks include finding a cohort, a girlfriend, an ally - someone who is safe. Someone to have lunch with who doesn't need an explanation of our being. Our lifehacks include secret Facebook groups where we process awkward interpersonal microaggressions and suggest ways to tackle them in the future. But for many of us, life hacks can't stop the inevitable. They can slow it down, yes. But eventually, those of us who work for white Christians are asked the question "Are you sure God has really called you...here?

was off in my nifty little boxy almost-truck.

I don’t have the nifty ability to click off my emotions like some of Athena’s other people do. Instead, I add to my nightmare fuel and call it a fair deal.

a rather nifty ability that allowed Roon to effectively shoot a bullet or projectile of their choice into the sky that could land anywhere in a continent-size area as he so desired. Effectively, it was like a portal with an arrow or a bullet. It did mean that Roon could effectively shoot anyone anywhere on the continent. It seemed like a rather pointless ability, but surely there was a way to abuse it. Maybe with a nuclear bomb,

One of the nifty paradoxes of dysfunction is that the crazier the system in which you grow up, the more afraid and less equipped you are to leave it and stand on your own.