thing of the day (thing+758)


I want to smell dark matter
The robots from the future had finally done it. They'd finally found a real genuine archive of internet postsings not made by Charles Horse. It had taken them years. They'd begun to believe that the only internet postings still intact from that era, before the great plague of 2021 had wiped out 98% of humanity, had been postings made by Charles Horse on a mesage board in 2020. Yet after extensively searching the one hard drive they had, they'd found postings on a different board by completely different people! They'd been hidden away in a folder titled "DO NOT READ" so they hadn't read it, obviously. But after years of Charles Horse chat logs they'd given in and thought it worth a look. What they'd found had stunned them to their robot core.



SUBJECT: The myth of the male orgasm

MESSAGE: Do men really orgasm or do they all just pretend? Are they all just so embarrassed by being unable to orgasm that they just claim that they have them? I mean, I do have orgasms, of course. Big ones. Really normal male orgasms! I feel pleasure and everything. I'm not talking about me. But all other men. How do we really know they orgasm? What if they just feel pleasure all the way up to ejaculation and then...nothing. Just a load of cum and no pleasure. Not me, obviously. Other men. Every other man. Lying. Experiencing no orgasm, not understanding why, desperate for answers.

What if.

THREAD STARTER: Mechanical Pete

SUBJECT: My fucking face

MESSAGE: They say you end up with the face you deserve. That must be why mine is completely blank. Why it shows no expression, no personality. No lived-in experience. Nothing It never developed features because I never developed a personality. It didn't know what to be. So it's just there. Eyes, nose, a mouth. But nothing you'd remember. I remember when I was a boy in school, so scared of the other children. You could tell them by their faces. There was that one with the nasty, cruel face. Always a smirk on it, ready to hit me or just make me feel like shit. The happy one. The pretty one. They became those people, because of their faces. Or maybe they changed later in life. I don't know, I'm not in contact with them. If I saw them now I probably wouldn't recognise them, because they'll have changed. Unlike me. And if they see me, they wouldn't even remember me. Because what is there to remember?

THREAD STARTER: Depressed Cunt


MESSAGE: agsggggggggggggggggb iiiiiiiiiiii'mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmd depressed!!!

Robot 1: wiat

Robot 2: what

Robot 1: wait

Robot 2: oh you typed "wiat"

Robot 1: This is obvious

Robot 2: What

Robot 1: This is just Charles Horse posting alone on a message board under several different names

Robot 2: yeah that's pretty obvious

Robot 1: fuck

Robot 2: yep