'People are panicking about AI tools the same way they did when the calculator was invented, stop worrying' cannot stress enough the calculator did not forcibly pervade every aspect of our lives, has such a low error rate it's a statistical anomaly when it does happen, isn't built on mass plagiarism, and does not obliterate the fucking environment when you use it. Be so fucking serious right now
bringing this back
So is that why you looked like you were going to cry yesterday at band?
Starting my mornings off RIGHT with a fucking PANIC ATTACK(or anxiety attack no one in ny life has ever bothered to teach me the difference lmafooooo) at SIX IN THE GODAMN MORNING
How are y'all???
I know this is supposed to be a joke, but I've had to shit since 10:34 this morning and keep forgetting to go so thanks for the reminder
Don’t forget to poop before the new year starts. You don’t wanna carry the same shit into 2025
awesome drink coolstyle
words cannot express how much i fucking hate writing dialog
you know what? that's it.
I'm preheating my oven to 400° f, AND I'm lining a baking sheet with aluminum foil
you're really in for it now, buster.
I'm stirring up some butter, olive oil, parsley, and yeah, I'm adding minced garlic too.
now I'm gonna put you in the oven for 25 to 30 minutes
you are so DONE FOR
I said I found Kyle's and everyone ran over though
@idraw-sometimes It's 5:37. How's the stage managing going? The closet is pretty warm.
one time a professor asked me if i’d ever wanted to write anything “more important” than romance. and i said no. i was put on this earth to write about sad people kissing. and if another writer ever came up to me and said they wanted to write 400 pages containing nothing but a character baking a single loaf of bread each day, then i would tell them to do that. people don't write something because it's important. they write about something and that is what makes it important
I'm going to sleep, any recommendations for some good dreams?
A Faceless person sits at the table in the center of the room. They are shuffling cards, waiting for you to take your seat. They hum as they deal the hands. You are playing Go Fish.
As you play, you and the Faceless being speak of many things. You speak of knowledge of the near future, approaching events, some fortuitous and many most bleak. The conversation turns to talk of a greater event, the darkest hour yet to come.
The Faceless one comments this: ‘There are many beasts and horsemen in my stables. I have yet to decide which to unleash.’
You watch as features bubble up beneath the Faceless skin–the beginnings of a nose, lips, eyelids, a face protruding from a once smooth expanse. No longer Faceless, the devil stands up, shakes your hand, and makes to leave. It pauses just once, to call back into the room. ‘The cards are a gift.’
You look at the cards and they have changed. They are black, large, inscribed in a language you do not read but which the cards read to you. When the cards start speaking to you, you put them away in their box. Already too many things are unleashed in the world.
Tonight, you spoke with the devil.
The devil looked a lot like you.