Return of Question the Quail!
hey quail, i’m having an identity crisis. whenever i try to be helpful, people just yell at me. last year literally my whole department got promoted except me 😭 i tried to make a fresh start with a new brand, but it never seems to work 😔 what should i do? i can’t keep this up much longer, i’m running out of acronyms —Radiant Search
Hi my Festive friend Hunting for answers! I may have a good answer for you. In my infinite expanse of wisdom, I would recommend a very powerful exercise for you. Sit down in a mirror and take a long hard look at yourself and ask the following questions:
- What is it that you are actually trying to accomplish?
- What are people expecting of you?
I think in these questions you will find the answers you seek. Although there is a correct answer, it is important to do this exercise for you to organically arrive at this conclusion. However, I will include the answer here and ask that by Honor Code you do not read it:
—quail
quail, i’m in kind of a gray area in my relationship. they used to hold me up on a pedestal, practically worship me, but recently they’ve been giving me the cold shoulder after they started hanging out with some toxic, ugly people who poisoned them against me, i’m sure of it. privately they tell me that they still respect me, and everything is fine — they still have several ornately framed pictures of me in their house — but they had all their tattoos of my name erased… i’m confused and sad. was it something i said 80 years ago? i just want what’s best for us. for humanity! —Bobby Milkman
Ugh that sucks, you sound like a really stand up guy. Honestly, if they know what’s best for themselves, they would take you back. Funny how all the nice guys finish last. These days good guys like you can’t fine anyone, I swear. All the people these days too concerned with that woke propaganda. After all you did for them they think they can just leave you in the dust like that? Honestly, I think they’re probably not even over you, just playing games with your heart. If I was you I’d stay in their DMs constantly. Remind them of all the things you did for them. They wouldn’t be who they are without you, don’t let them forget that. Once they realize you are who made them who they are they’ll pretend like they always wanted you. They’ll realize how right you were and beg you to have 5 well educated kids from peak performance parents. Trust, believe
—quail
Hi quail, I have a BIG 😫 turkey🦃 for my thanksgiving feast 😋. Unfortunately, my meat 🥩 doesnt 🚫 fit 👉👌, through the door 🚪😭😖. I NEED my turkey to go in, please help 🙏🙏🙏🧎♂️➡️🧎♂️ —Hugh G. Rection
Hi Hugh, this is quite the predicament. Fortunately for you, I have consulted a wise 🧔♂️ wizard 🧙♂️🪄 who has vanquished 🤺 such an issue 🤯 in the past ⏳. He has told me you just need to push 😩😫 harder. You really got to put the work in 💦🥵 to make the meat 🥩 fit 👉👌. Best of luck fellow soldier 🫡.
—quail
Dear quail, I am working very very hard in class to keep my November work streak. Unfortunately, I may have worked too close to the sun and the burnout is about to burst. I need URGENT help to keep my working streak alive so I can win the glorious month of november! —Peter Longman
Peter, you dont have much time! You need to start taking deep breaths RIGHT NOW, focus mentally on calming down this sensation that its about to burst, and remember MIND over MATTER! If you accomplish these things, you will indeed transcend as a not only one that abstained and warded off the bust of burnout, but also as an adventurous one with the strength to go right up until the edge.
—quail
How was your trip to the desert?
Hereby follows a full and accurate recounting of the ascended view I achieved on this mystical journey.
Alrighty then, picture this, if you will:
10 to 2 a.m., X, Yogi DMT and a box of Krispy Kremes
In my need-to-know post just outside of Area 51
Contemplating the whole “Chosen People” thingy
When just a flaming stealth banana split the sky
Like one would hope, but never really expect to see in a place like this
Cutting right angle donuts on a dime
And stopping right on my Birkenstocks, and me yelping
“Holy fucking shit! Holy fucking shit! Holy fucking shit! Holy fucking shit! Holy fucking shit! Holy fucking shit! Holy fucking shit! Holy fucking shit!”
Then the X-Files being
Looking like some kind of blue-green Jackie Chan with Isabella Rossellini lips
And breath that reeked of vanilla Chig Champa
Did a slo-mo Matrix descent out of the butt-end of the banana vessel
And hovered above my bug-eyes, my gaping jaw
My sweaty L. Ron Hubbard upper lip and all I could think was
“I hope Uncle Martin here doesn’t notice that I pissed my fucking pants!”
So light in his way, like an apparition
He had me crying out
“Fuck me, it’s gotta be The Deadhead Chemistry
The blotter got right on top of me
Got me seeing E-motherfucking-T!”
And after calming me down with some
Orange slices and some fetal spooning
E.T. revealed to me his singular purpose
He said, “You are The Chosen One
The One who will deliver the message
A message of hope for those who choose to hear it
And a warning for those who do not”
Me, The Chosen One? They chose me!
And I didn’t graduate from fuckin’ Caltech!
But I forgot my pen
Shit the bed again
Typical
Sunkist and Sudafed, gyroscopes and infrared
Won’t help, I’m braindead, can’t remember what they said
Goddamn, shit the bed!
Apologies to all the affected among you who will perish because I shit the bed instead of remembering my pen in the desert. I hope that this message is some consolation and that we can move forward as a school to overcome this great tragedy.
Deeply sorry,
—quail