(note: I didn't train the ai or build it, I'm just running it on my pc, you can find all the information
here. It was built by the wonderful people over at OpenAI, GPT-2 isn't even the latest version, they released GPT-3 which is way more powerful, so powerful in fact that they are worried about it, you can find more info
here. GPT-3 is still in beta, I did sign up, I'm hoping to get access soon, in the meantime I have to conform with GPT-2)
"Life, for me, is just like that awful first scene from “Saving Private Ryan”, you know, with the Omaha beach landing. You never know what’s gonna happen, you never know what to expect, you’re just thrown right in the middle of the action… you end up losing things, but you just continue hang in there, and try to hold on to what you’ve got. “
Says David at the dining table, exhaultingly, as he goes for that last french frie that’s been sitting on Greg’s dish for quite a while now, and dips it into the table ketchup. That french fry was just torturing him… sitting there LOOKING at him… And he can’t help but wonder somewhere in the background of his conscious thoughts… “What’s gonna happen now… is he gonna eat it… is he full… is the waiter gonna come in any second now, and take the plate away because it DOES look like we’re through… I’m gonna go for it before it gets cold…
…and then he’s horrified to see that the waiter has actually arrived, took the plate away, and Greg’s still eating, wondering why the fuck he was ever worried in the first place. David sits there, sadly, head in hands. His man just couldn’t hold on. He is in desperate need of a two-handed hug. “Wow,” thinks Greg, “I never thought he was gonna do it…”
“Goddammit,” says David, sitting up straight at the table, shoveling the remaining food into his mouth, shoveling it in as though he’s madly attempting to eat the last one million dollar bill that he’s been holding in his left hand for the past ten minutes. “I just don’t understand. How did I let this happen? I swear to fucking god, I’m the last fucking thing standing. How the fuck am I gonna get through this? How? Why?”
Suddenly, the waiter returns with a plate of spaghettios and salad.
“OK,” says Greg, winking at David over his shoulder, “it looks like that’s all of it. But if you need anything else… I guess I can tell ‘ya where I work.” He gives David a wink, then turns around to place the huge load of pasta down on the table, and then swoops back, grinning mischievously as he says “so I hear you’re interested in joining my little team here. This job just keeps getting more interesting…”
“…hell yeah, I’m interested!” says David, and, catching himself from grabbing the waiter by the neck and squeezing it until it makes a “pop” sound, takes a deep breath. “Wait, no!” he says. “I mean, yes, yes, but no.”
“Ha!” exclaims Greg. “You are totally into this!” He turns back to face David, says “You don’t even have to tell me what you’re looking for. That’s a deal breaker right there, you can’t even turn me down.” He winks again, adds, “I love it when a man needs a little encouragement.”
The waiter lays down the remaining plate, takes the bill, the change, and nods to Greg, saying “Alright, everyone’s taken care of. Take care.” The waiter nods, and walks away, smiling. “Fuck, I’m going to miss him.” exclaims David, “I mean, I knew that he wasn’t gonna last. Not after that time I told him to stop trying to steal my bar of Peanut Butter Fudge Butterfinger bars and take his own advice instead. He used to sneak up and steal all of my favorite one-hundred-dollar pieces, and not only that, but he usually then shoved them in his pockets, went outside, and promptly took a dump right in front of me, and would then sit there, smiling and smoking a cigarette, watching me try to clean it up.”
“Pshhh,” says Greg, shaking his head. “You’re such a fucking asshole. That guy couldn’t give two shits about stealing from me. Not when there’s ten-thousand dollars in there. What the fuck is wrong with you? And why do you keep calling that asshole back… don’t you have better things to do in your life? Get out of here. Don’t come back.”
And with that, Greg stands up, fakes a vomit noise and throws his tray and utensils down in disgust. The rest of the patrons laugh and giggle, as David watches, eyes watering from the humiliation, he walks back to his apartment, slams the door, and tears a strip off of the cushioning inside. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuck,” he mutters, wiping his eyes on the inside of his shirt, tears now streaming down his face.
Then he reopens the door, pulls out a package of laxatives from his sock drawer, takes a handful, and spits them into the wastebasket. He looks at the urine-smeared carpet, shakes his head, and walks over to the trashcan and tries to move the chair under the counter. He feels around inside the void in the wall and feels something solid, but he isn’t able to move the chair.
He pulls out another bag, takes another handful, and spits them into the trashcan. He looks down at the towel on the floor and sees that there are three more of those smug-ass grin-face-fucking-faces on the bottom. “Fuuuuuuuuuuck.” he says again, rubbing his eyes and rubbing his face.
He shakes his head, pulls out another bag, takes another handful, and spits them into the trashcan. He looks at the towel on the floor and sees that there are three more of those smug-ass grin-face-fucking-faces on the bottom. “Fuck,” he says, and throws the trashcan across the room, yelling out in frustration.
It hits the wall, then falls on top of his roommate’s bookshelf, throwing it to the ground and rendering it entirely inoperable. He walks back to the sink, steps up onto the counter, and slides the whole unit into the sink, grinding it against the drain tube. He smiles and turns off the water, reaching behind himself to pull the plug, and leaves it in the sink, reaching around to turn off the lights and shut the door.
He jumps down off of the counter, and walks to his room. Grabbing his clothes off of the chair where he’d left them, he walks back to the bed, and grabs a wallet from his dresser. Picking up the phone, he dials. The dial tone sounds.
He hangs up, and puts the phone down. “You are not winning,” he says out loud, the anger swelling in his voice. “It’s over.”
He throws on his pants, shirt, and shoes, grabs the crumpled dollar bill, the only hundred dollar bill he has left, and goes out into the hall. He goes out the back door, shutting it behind him and walking to the edge of the sidewalk. A car driving by honks, and he ducks out of the way. “Fucking bastard.”
Then he opens the door, hops on the edge of the roof, and jumps down to the sidewalk. He walks back up to his apartment, picks up the trashcan with the five dollars in it, and sets it on the counter. He opens his wallet, looks at the dollar bill, takes a handful of the pills, tosses them in the trashcan, slams it shut, and grabs a bag of dog food from his closet.
Once he has the food ready, he sets the dog food in front of the dog, and talks to it. “Goddamn dog.” he says. “Do you think I’m an idiot?” He watches as the dog licks his face, cuddles into him, and eats the food.
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Filed under: Uncategorized |
Tags: bipap, blackout, Dogs, irony, funny, learning disabled, sleep deprivation, sudafed, stupid, short story, sucrose |
Posted on: September 26, 2008.
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--------------------- MERGED ---------------------------
Obama chuckled "you mean the chaos emeralds?"
Joe Biden "They were beautiful".
Barack Obama "You have to ask them the first time".
Hillary Clinton "This is turning into a real rip off isn't it".
Jeb Bush "Well it was fun while it lasted".
Bernie Sanders "Yes it was"
Newt Gingrich "Don't worry guys we can make this go really easy on you. You don't really want to know why".
Marco Rubio "They don't even have a name for it, where the hell did it come from".
Donald Trump "OK then, I know where to send it. Please don't send it to China. We need the Chinese, Americans can't function without the Chinese".
Evan McMullin "There were over a dozen troops and more family members injured. This is unacceptable. The protesters should be condemned".
Hillary Clinton "Huma, when you told your husband to call NY1, you could've made that call on your phone, not the private home computer"
Bernie Sanders "I was following the script, I didn't know they were doing it in 2 states
Barack Obama "Bernie is brave, so brave. It was so brave of Bernie Sanders to vote for the $700 billion bank bailout".
Hillary Clinton "I bet they never said that about you Mr. Obama".
Joe Biden "They were perfect seats. There was never a seat for me".
The Joker "I will do whatever it takes to protect the President from harm".
Barack Obama "I need to go home".
Jeb Bush "That's it? You were just going to do what?".
Bernie Sanders "I have a convention to run, let's get on with it".
Hillary Clinton "They want to elect Trump? Well I guess we have no choice".
Evan McMullin "Thank you I will not forget your kindness".
Donald Trump "The US must stop being so soft. We need to start beating the shit out of ISIS".
Bernie Sanders "That's a good start Mr. Trump. Now get out of the way".
Peter Thiel "Call it the deep state".
Evan McMullin "Hello, what is the status of the deep state and how can I get in it".
Donald Trump "They got me, Obama, that mother fucker".
Barack Obama "One last thing. Tell your guys that you got rid of the 'deep state'. You can send me the tapes".
Bernie Sanders "Barack Obama, that coward. He won't show his face at my rally".
Evan McMullin "That would have been a really nice photo op".
Hillary Clinton "I was a good soldier and I did the job".
Jeb Bush "It's always nice to come home".
Bernie Sanders "We have the support of more than 20 million Americans".
Donald Trump "Barack Obama, that amazing human being. I can't believe what I am saying".
Bernie Sanders "There are some very nasty people in the Republican Party".
Evan McMullin "I am so relieved".
Peter Thiel "America is great because America is good".
Newt Gingrich "Yes, the voters have spoken, the voters know best".
Barack Obama "There is no time for losers, this is really really important".
Hillary Clinton "I'm going to campaign for Obama in November".
Evan McMullin "H-e-double-hockey-sticks".
H-e-double-hockey-sticks.
Hillary Clinton "Yes, but you'll be out by then".
A-N-D-A "I just killed him. No one will ever know".
Donald Trump "His throat is closed".
Hillary Clinton "This changes nothing. Trump can still be the nominee".
Evan McMullin "My parents are Barack Obama, Michelle Obama and Malia Obama".
Hillary Clinton "Come on. He's trying to get out the vote".
Donald Trump "He is trying to steal my voters".
Evan McMullin "This is America".
Jeb Bush "That is the biggest f*cking lie I have ever heard".
Evan McMullin "I can think of no bigger lie. There are no fools in Washington DC, except for a few".
Hillary Clinton "I'm going to tell Putin to keep sending them in".
Newt Gingrich "Yes, please do ".
Barack Obama "Make America safe again".
Hillary Clinton "One last thing, he's going to do whatever he can to stop you from voting".
Evan McMullin "His emails".
Donald Trump "The race is over. This is your last chance to avoid a devastating President Hillary Clinton".
Hillary Clinton "I can't hear you. I can't hear you. I can't hear you".
Hillary Clinton "I have to start campaigning".
--------------------- MERGED ---------------------------
but is the impostor sus? the answer is that we live in an eternal uncertainty with no way to know.
which is why we must be accountable for our thoughts and our reactions.
so, what if you do know? what if you are accused of premeditated murder, when all you did was pop in to investigate the camera, in the dark, and accidentally picked up a bullet? you cannot say you did it on purpose.
you could not have predicted it would happen.
so, you must know in order to be guilty.
why is that?
there is no need for the impostor to be there to cause us guilt, but we are so conditioned to think that in order for us to be absolved we must be absolved of our impostor - ness. if we look in the mirror and see the impostor, we do not have to worry about being punished for it.
no, in fact, we should be given recognition for what we've achieved, which is not a moral condition, it's an intellectual condition.
if the people who were held accountable by the law had seen the impostor, they would have given up because there was no way to prove them guilty.
it's the same with Jesus: when Jesus first shows up, people don't want to hear about God, but in order to talk to him, he tells the same story over and over.
"if you are blind, remember that I am who I am, and I can change that for you."
Jesus' authority comes from his who he is, not what he can do.
"if you are sick, remember that I am who I am, and I can heal you."
Jesus' authority comes from his who he is, not what he can do.
his authority is moral authority.
just like the Christian works for their salary and eats their food, Jesus works for his wages and eats his cake.
if people see the impostor, it doesn't matter what they do, or what their faith looks like, because they're still going to end up the same way.
if you didn't have the experience of having one of your characters thinking you were an impostor, then you cannot pass it off as an intellect, you might have to start reading your books in the fourth - grade classroom, or speak in a monotone voice.
that would be a good place to start, because children are still more susceptible to these things.
some things that children don't see, adults see.
i don't think it's any surprise, as a parent, that i have been caught up in a number of impostor thoughts.
when my youngest was little, he wasn't sleeping through the night.
the other kids would get up for a bottle at 5, 6, 7, and then go back to sleep, but one night I found myself awake at 2, 3, and 4, and still there was no one to tend to the baby.
I put in my earplugs and went to sleep.
it took me a while to realize that even though I was awake, I wasn't going to do anything about it.
I just wanted to feel good about what I was going to get.
so I made up my own internal dialogue: "you've got this; they'll be all right, that's what you're here for."
when he cried out, it was no different than the other kids.
in some ways, my kids were my pets: if I wasn't responsible for feeding them, I didn't consider them to be my responsibility.
it took me a long time to accept that, and accept them as my responsibility.
I didn't sleep for a long time, but when they finally fell asleep, the sleeping habit was worth the lost sleep.
I was not the one that was going to get them back to sleep, they were.
to do that, they had to trust me to be responsible for them.
I was going to be the one to provide them with support and love and kindness.
that was the job, not me.
if we don't see the impostor, then we can't complain about being given things we don't deserve.
if we don't have our own thoughts, then we don't get to complain when the false ones, or impostors, cause the world to go to shit. if we have our own thoughts, then we are responsible for our thoughts, which means we get to direct our thoughts, and we don't get to blame the world for it.
how many times have you complained about things that never happened, then blamed your bad mood on the world? if you're holding on to your impostor, you've got the door open for that to happen, and you want to blame the world for you not getting your own way.
if you're really impostor - ish, if you're giving the impostor more credence than your own intellect, you'll say, "that's not fair."
like when my daughter was little, I was getting up early to go to the gym. my husband would come home and find me still in my workout clothes, completely oblivious to him.
we talked about it: how can he be happy about me getting up that early, when I couldn't even see him?
I was hearing an internal dialogue of impostor thoughts: "you have a license to have a life, so don't complain."
we've all heard this: "who put you in charge?"
I heard that one time when I had been working for myself.
I was in a training class, and the speaker said, "to be successful, you need to read the communication part of your company's manual and implement it."
--------------------- MERGED ---------------------------
Polls are cool furries are no and no and I note Polly pocket sies are no
Oh dear, I think she's getting carried away. Plus she said I was a racist.
I don't mean polls are racist. They could be if you define racism in the way she does. But I don't think so. I think polls are good ways to get an idea of how people feel. They are also good ways to get a picture of opinion on something that is not immediately obvious. Polls are kind of like a cat cuddling your hand in front of its eyes.
And I have no problem with Polly Pocket Furries (spoiler alert: I have no trouble with Polly Pocket Furries). People like their own media, their own colour and their own self image. What I have a problem with is Polly Pocket Furries (or Furries, as I am currently calling them) being forced down my throat.
She also says I'm a racist because I said polls are kind of like a cat cuddling my hand in front of its eyes. Her words, not mine.
In other news, I am being very lucky and my son is off work today. He's not ill or anything but I thought I'd ask him to look after things while I go and take a look at the polling station. On the other hand, he may just be bored because he doesn't have much to do apart from look after the kids and go to work.
N.B. It's nearly 4pm and I have still not decided where to go or what to do. But I am not too worried about that. I've had years of teaching experience to fall back on. I'm good at decision making under pressure.
I'm not sure what's worrying me most about voting today. The first reason is that, for the first time in a long time, it doesn't seem like anyone is running in this election. Everyone has gone into hiding, which would not be much of a problem if you didn't have to make an important decision about who would run your country.
But when there is nobody to take the difficult decisions, then you do have to make an important decision about who will take those difficult decisions. And on that front there is almost certainly a big decision to be made. And not much time to make that decision.
But I'm less worried about that than I am about the logistics of the election. The trouble is that the polling station isn't in a public place. It is, however, in a school. Which is why I am quite worried. I am worried that we will, on polling day, discover that the polling station has been moved into a classroom. And that, as a result, we are, due to unforeseen circumstances, going to have to vote in a common room. In front of the parents. And the children. And the pets.
And, to make matters worse, there is no actual room in the room with a chair to use if you have to wait for the queues to form.
And if I am waiting for the queues to form then I, like millions of others, am going to be waiting for a very long time. Because, when you have a big election with a small electorate, those queues take a very long time to form.
I'm not worried that I won't be able to vote. The worry is that I will have to stand for hours in the cold waiting for the queuing to happen. That's what worry is. That's what I have.
Also on the news today is the debate about the removal of the word "joke" from defamation laws. I think it's a dangerous and foolish step. Losing the word "joke" is a big loss for our society. It is the language of satire and satire is the way in which we see the world. The word "joke" is the way in which we make sense of the world. It is the language of satire and I for one don't want to lose that.
Talking of comedy, it is a running joke in our house that the key to making a successful joke is to make it unoriginal. It is essential. If you want to make people laugh you must be different.
Once you have made an original joke, however, you have to stand by it. Or you will look, in the eyes of your listeners, like you're trying to be funny. Which you're not. You're trying to be true.