Let's do this. www.youtube.com/watch?v=KtQ9...

Last year: I feel so anxious all the time. I need a playlist that'll make me happy. This year: I feel so anxious all the time. I need a playlist that'll make me angry.

You've spent the last two years of your life chastising AI models for making porn. You are respected by your peers. In one fell swoop, Sam Altman has put you out on the streets with no career prospects. Your children will not eat tonight.

same taste new pack.

"Thou sold thine tower for WHAT?", chancellor Lintnug boomed. "Ah, yes, I did.", Spinrung whimpered. "T'was for a portion of a magical realm, with other like-minded wizards. I fear that the conjurer had decieved me and absconded with my treasure. Yes, the realm was pulled from beneath my feet."

"Indeed, these imps will scribe spells all day, and they do not need any rest!" Zork the Magnificent tapped his staff against a stack of books. "These spellbooks were all imp-scribed then? Are they any potent?" "Oh, not exactly. But I beg that you focus on the sheer volume of spells instead."

"Ha, yes! I speak the truth! The barbarian would not take mine potions, instead he insisted on a mixture of mortal medicine to cleanse his guts of parasites!" Wingdunts' eyebrows twitched, annoyed. "What a fool. Did he succumb to the illness and die?" "Oh yes, horribly so."

"Hail, Wizard Singemist! T'was more than a moon since I last heard from ye. Thou hath gone silent on Wizzer." "Aye, 'tis true, I have grown weary of that orb of late. I tell you, Scornhelius, I do not wish to argue dark arts with insipid magical constructs any more." "Aye, aye. 'tis the truth."

"Fool! I have inscribed thine soul unto the Magical Weave! It cannot be removed, for it is part of the Weave Chain!", he cackled madly. "Get off your hogwash, Krunkspank. Ye merely copied one of my spells and put it upon the weave.", she sighed. "One could find it in the library, imbecile."

"Verily", Winglecrutz, Wizard of the Sixth Realm wheezed to his estranged friend from Wizarding University, "You need only invest in these magical orbs within my master's realm for great power! Act quickly!" Sminktingle, experienced Realmstrider, scoffed. "Peddle thine orbs elsewhere, charlatan!"

@getgianni.com this feels like something you'd say as Senator Armstrong.

Not a day goes by when I don't think about when I left the office after the evening shift in the dead of night, only to immediately see a homeless man take a shit in the middle of the street before disappearing into the moonlight. It felt like seeing a deer in the wild. Majestic and free.

I don't think I'd have signed up to a free month of Disney+ If I'd have known that upon my death, my soul would toil in the Hannah Montana 2029 Remake laugh track for all of eternity.

The year is 2055. After the Amazon Wars, the world was divided into two factions: The Delivery Raiders, who roam the countryside taking what they can, and The Fulfillment Scavengers ekeing out whatever scraps left behind from the Days of Jeff. To be Primeless is to dance with death itself.

I feel like someone needs to start taking responsibility for all the bad things. Not so they can make it better, but because I think we'll all feel a lot better after killing them.

"You can't do that!", the nice lady at McDonalds tells me, but it's too late. I have already expertly disassembled the ice cream machine and secured the payload. "Stop that man!", the manager yells, but I am already outside on my getaway scooter. They can't catch me now. This high will last.

While I'm fundamentally opposed to my sleep paralysis demon, I still find their LinkedIn blogs on work ethic really inspiring. They have to get up way earlier than me.

The first thing I'll do after graduating from Necromancy school is to ressurect the dead worm in RFK's brain and just like, see how far I can get.

Social media has taught me that we are in a constant state of "Things can only get worse from here.", which has frankly helped foster an attitude of enjoying life while it's still pretty okay.

good night lil car sweet dreams

So I'm at this nice Munich tasting menu place. There's an American group on some company trip next to us. One of them suddenly blurts out "So, yknow, my girlfriend cheated on me on my birthday!" a little too loudly. You could hear a pin drop.

Is there a support group out there for chronic ennui?

Thank god, petrol for all genders.

get home from work ritual: 1. get out of BAD PANTS 2. get into GOOD PANTS

Amazon keeps trying to sell me something called a 'nipple remover' and I'm getting concerned about what the algorithm knows about me.

Shit some bricks and call me an ambulance, I'm setting this house on fire.

I must unfortunately decline your invitation, for I will be busy paving a way to hell.

A colleague from another team bothered me at my desk for 20 minutes. When I told him I had work to do and he should book a meeting witg me for further discussion, he got excited. Seeing someone excited over the prospect of a meeting made me feel out of touch with humanity as a whole.

As soon as my work out on "All I want for Christmas Is You" during our christmas party, I felt a deep, primal fight-or-flight response. Cold sweats. Heavy breathing. Adrenaline rushing through my veins. It was time to leave. I had to escape.

I've got ko-fi memberships open up over on my art account!

I did NOT approve this.

after spending maybe 9 hours at a group planning event, with more to come tomorrow, I am officially not planning shit for the rest of the day. I live my life chaos mode for the next few hours.