At about 2am on CONvergence's Friday, around the point where my colleagues was attempting to put my drunken riddling self to bed, I insisted that I wanted to get some good pictures of myself while my hair still looked nice. What came out of it seems to resemble the kind of shots that would go on the Riddler's Tinder profile.
(Those are actually shorts, in case you were wondering. They’re comfy to sleep in and match my color scheme.)
For further historical record, my final act after this was getting into an argument with the hotel's hold line's recording while trying to order additional bathroom supplies before @big-bi-bitch forcibly took the phone away form me.