CaptainWacky
I want to smell dark matter
yes we all know we don't really know famous people, we just watch them in tv shows and movies and like them from that or even save three thousand images of them on your hard drive, and yes it's a parasocial or whatever who cars, and yeah they're just people everyone's a person, OH YOU'RE SO MUCH SMARTER THAN ME FOR NOT CARING THAT A FAMOUS PERSON DIED, THANKS FOR POINTING OUT THAT PEOPLE DIE EVERY DIE ALL THE TIME IN MUCH WORSE CIRCUMSTANCES, I HAD NO IDEA, yes I have a small ridged brain but I do care and feel sad sometimes when someone I was a fan of dies, okay, sorry we don't have universal communism yet so I shouldn't ever care about anything else because EVERYTHING is trivial compared to the lack of universal communism, but I feel what I feel I am small, and maybe if I knew more people in real life and my brain had developed properly I wouldn't care so much about celebrities or feel sad when they die, but I can't really do anything about that can I
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It wouldn't be long now. Grogu swung his huge green dong down on Ahsoka again. She couldn't take much more. No one could survive being hit my Grogu's huge green dong more than ten times. And he'd hit Ahsoka with it six times already. He remembered his childhood for a moment, when Ahsoka had taken him to Luke Skywalker to be trained. How different things could have been if he'd stuck with it. He would have become a real Jedi. Maybe he'd even be the leader of the Jedi Order by now, fifty years later, with Luke himself long dead. But it was all too late. Grogu hadn't embraced the Dark Side, exactly, but he sure as fuck was no Jedi. He just didn't care anymore.
"DIEEEE!" he spat out at Ahsoka, slamming his massive dong into her for the eighth time. Few had even survived long before that. But, somehow, Ahsok Tano persisted. She looked at him, sadly, coughing up blood before she spoke.
"What would your father think, Grogu?" she asked.
"You shut up about my stinking father!" said Grogu. "He's dead and buried...like you will be! Except I'm going to dig you a grave using my huge green dong as a shovel like I do for people I respect."
"He's not dead," she said. "Search your feelings...you know it be true!"
"NOOOOOOOOOOO!" he screamed, slamming his dong down right between her eyes. Ahsoka spoke no more.
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Charles Horse had to do something. He was going to die, like everyone else. He had to leave something behind. He had to make sure his life had mattered. Write a story, he thought to himself. He'd always wanted to write a book, despite lack of any writing abilities or ideas. It seemed like the kind of thing he should have been able to do. But what to write about? What did everyone talk about now? A.I. That was all anyone cared about. He would write the great novel about A.I. What about how it uses a lot of water? He'd never really bothered to find out why - something to with cooling down the chips or something - but he knew that was a thing. Maybe a story about how they'd run out of water so they wree using HUMAN BLOOD to power the A.I. Yeah, that was it. Nobody had ever thought of that before. He was going to write it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Charles Horse was on the run through the mean neon streets of CYBER CITY. He'd escaped the human processing plant with the help of a sexy dame. They'd gone on the run together, but she'd gone off somewhere with a big gun to seek some kind of revenge. He didn't know how to find her, or how to thank her. The machines he'd just been about to remove his blood to cool their damn chips. She'd broken him out. She was so sexy. He loved her. She looked exactly like actress Ella Purnell.
Charles Horse knew it would be hard to find other people. Most of them were on the run or in the processing plants...or already reduced to blood. So he was incredibly surprised to see human-shaped figures out on the street. He hid behind a futuristic dumpster, waiting for them to pass. He had to be sure...
What he saw made him shudder in discuss. They were A.I. renderings of humanity, hideous and twisted. Created by A.I., 3D printed and brought to "life" by biologically grown articificial brains. They lurched down the street, talking about the latest episode of the A.I. sitcom "FIENDS." He could not abide them. Charles headed down the nearest dark alley. He had to get out. He had to...
I twas the girl. She was standing in front of him. Her gun was so big. She was so pretty. He ran towards her...but she motioned for him to stop.
"You don't know everything about me," said the girl. "I'm...I'm an A.I., Charles!" And she removed the top of her skull to show him her brain to confirm.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Charles Horse woke with a start in his bed. He hadn't writen the story at all. It had all been a dream, that was why Ella Purnell had been in it. And the story hadn't even been that good. But, when Charles thought about it, wasn't it interesting how much dreams resembled A.I. creations? The brain making something of random impulses and images. Putting together a narrative. Maybe...maybe humans were the real A.I. Maybe that would be what his book would be about. He was bound to write it one day.
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d6666666666666ht
aaaaaaaaaa
reeyyyy5
yr
yhry
ty6iy
jt
theyg
htey truth is burie somewhere in gibberish
g
ahjaaaaaaaaaayuoujusthaveto look
a
gayou just have to
hahahahahah
ahah
nobody carea
i coudna't go ongs
fb
gsjffgas
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i need help
_____________________________________________________
It wouldn't be long now. Grogu swung his huge green dong down on Ahsoka again. She couldn't take much more. No one could survive being hit my Grogu's huge green dong more than ten times. And he'd hit Ahsoka with it six times already. He remembered his childhood for a moment, when Ahsoka had taken him to Luke Skywalker to be trained. How different things could have been if he'd stuck with it. He would have become a real Jedi. Maybe he'd even be the leader of the Jedi Order by now, fifty years later, with Luke himself long dead. But it was all too late. Grogu hadn't embraced the Dark Side, exactly, but he sure as fuck was no Jedi. He just didn't care anymore.
"DIEEEE!" he spat out at Ahsoka, slamming his massive dong into her for the eighth time. Few had even survived long before that. But, somehow, Ahsok Tano persisted. She looked at him, sadly, coughing up blood before she spoke.
"What would your father think, Grogu?" she asked.
"You shut up about my stinking father!" said Grogu. "He's dead and buried...like you will be! Except I'm going to dig you a grave using my huge green dong as a shovel like I do for people I respect."
"He's not dead," she said. "Search your feelings...you know it be true!"
"NOOOOOOOOOOO!" he screamed, slamming his dong down right between her eyes. Ahsoka spoke no more.
______________________________________________________
Charles Horse had to do something. He was going to die, like everyone else. He had to leave something behind. He had to make sure his life had mattered. Write a story, he thought to himself. He'd always wanted to write a book, despite lack of any writing abilities or ideas. It seemed like the kind of thing he should have been able to do. But what to write about? What did everyone talk about now? A.I. That was all anyone cared about. He would write the great novel about A.I. What about how it uses a lot of water? He'd never really bothered to find out why - something to with cooling down the chips or something - but he knew that was a thing. Maybe a story about how they'd run out of water so they wree using HUMAN BLOOD to power the A.I. Yeah, that was it. Nobody had ever thought of that before. He was going to write it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Charles Horse was on the run through the mean neon streets of CYBER CITY. He'd escaped the human processing plant with the help of a sexy dame. They'd gone on the run together, but she'd gone off somewhere with a big gun to seek some kind of revenge. He didn't know how to find her, or how to thank her. The machines he'd just been about to remove his blood to cool their damn chips. She'd broken him out. She was so sexy. He loved her. She looked exactly like actress Ella Purnell.
Charles Horse knew it would be hard to find other people. Most of them were on the run or in the processing plants...or already reduced to blood. So he was incredibly surprised to see human-shaped figures out on the street. He hid behind a futuristic dumpster, waiting for them to pass. He had to be sure...
What he saw made him shudder in discuss. They were A.I. renderings of humanity, hideous and twisted. Created by A.I., 3D printed and brought to "life" by biologically grown articificial brains. They lurched down the street, talking about the latest episode of the A.I. sitcom "FIENDS." He could not abide them. Charles headed down the nearest dark alley. He had to get out. He had to...
I twas the girl. She was standing in front of him. Her gun was so big. She was so pretty. He ran towards her...but she motioned for him to stop.
"You don't know everything about me," said the girl. "I'm...I'm an A.I., Charles!" And she removed the top of her skull to show him her brain to confirm.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Charles Horse woke with a start in his bed. He hadn't writen the story at all. It had all been a dream, that was why Ella Purnell had been in it. And the story hadn't even been that good. But, when Charles thought about it, wasn't it interesting how much dreams resembled A.I. creations? The brain making something of random impulses and images. Putting together a narrative. Maybe...maybe humans were the real A.I. Maybe that would be what his book would be about. He was bound to write it one day.
_____________________________________________________________
hr
d6666666666666ht
aaaaaaaaaa
reeyyyy5
yr
yhry
ty6iy
jt
theyg
htey truth is burie somewhere in gibberish
g
ahjaaaaaaaaaayuoujusthaveto look
a
gayou just have to
hahahahahah
ahah
nobody carea
i coudna't go ongs
fb
gsjffgas
fa
i need help