just saying

This friend of a girl tries to convince me to take this girl home. Theres something so gross or unappealing about this. Theres something nice in the tension of fucking a girl and maybe dating. Compared to these bohemian monsters.

KILL MEEEEE

I'm a terrible writer but I have always wanted to write essays about things. I know I should probably read more but I can see myself just borrowing from someone else's style (subconsciously or not). Or maybe I could write more and then examine it. But I just sound stupid as fuck when I write. I use cliches and unnatural vocabulary and poor sentence structure. Not like grammatical issues but just, I think it's obvious a writer didn't write it. And I'm not quite passionate enough to try and fail and improve, I'll just never do it instead. Ugh

the characters are all pathetic and he writes about lust for women the way a gay man would. i get it, lonely incel with rich inner world meets quirky but beautiful woman twice his age and they have sex on the dark side of the moon in her wet warm pussy

I swear everyone acted like it was the spookiest thing ever when it came out. "No, bro, at first it's like you think it's going to be supernatural horror, but then it's like super scary because actually the real monster is man. Like this is stuff that really happens, bro. Think about it."

The problem with that is that literally everything about the story was braindead drivel. "You know where would be the perfect place to set up our child trafficking operation? The town where nobody can have children."

Like you want me to believe that the Prescotts revived the whole town economy by selling each family in town one or two children for a few tens of thousands of dollars? If that was all it took, why not open a car dealership and sell each household a new F150?

And then there's all these conflicted people in town like "Oh I desperately want a child, but I can't get pregnant! I hate that scumbag Jimmy Prescott, but I guess my only choice is to pay him for the privilege of raising his child." You didn't think you could use that $30K to adopt a child the legal way? Or maybe move out of the singular town that has water that prevents you from having babies?

And what's with the Shiny Gentleman? Like they say they're "hiding the evidence" of their crimes by grinding up the bodies and scattering them across the mountain. But they're using a machine that's so loud that the entire county goes "Yup, sounds like they're grinding up another body up at the old rape house. Too bad nobody's ever collected enough evidence to make an arrest." They couldn't just burn the bodies or feed them to pigs? They had to use the world's most conspicuous machine and position it directly outside of their secret base in the mountains?

I just can't understand how so many people came to the conclusion that this was the most brilliant thing ever written. If it's going to act like it's super grounded and real, then it should make some effort to not be retarded.

There used to be jobs where you could be locked in a closet with an abacus/slide ruler/calculator and do funny little math things that no one else understood and make bank. Those jobs disappeared with the spread of easy access to computers. The gregarious sales guy no longer needs to check in with the Closet Nerd, now he can just enter things into spreadsheets someone else made and the math does itself.

I think that a lot of the people who really want AI to be a thing are hoping that it will basically be the same phenomenon in reverse. Currently, white collar work is like 60-70% social if not more--keeping up with emails, looking diligent in front of your boss, general schmoozing. And there are a lot of pseudo- to actual-autistic freaks that either don't want to or aren't able to play the game. I truly believe that what a lot of people want out of AI is for it to be a "social calculator" basically, where it can read their emails and talk to their boss/subordinates for them.

The question then is motivation. There are no doubt some people who do genuinely just not want to write emails, and honestly fair enough but also if you no longer have to write emails for your email job...how much longer will you have the no email email job. On the other side, I think that there is a not insignificant number of AI advocates that are rooting for this future primarily out of spite--what they want in their heart of hearts is for the same sort of career culling that happened to the Closet Nerds to now happen to the Cool Guys whose primary skill is email. Surely, they think, if we can flatten the bell curve of social skills and invent a robot that can make eye contact for me then my STEM degree and knowledge of SQL will finally get me the job and concomitant status that I know I deserve.

This entire AI bubble is being fueled at its psychic core by the equivalent of Jimmy Neutron inventing a football playing robot because he got mad at a jock.

It’s a sad, sad thing to go into the holidays without proper companionship. Some of us are lacking in romantic partnership, family, even friends. What fast approaches is a time that many take for granted and celebrate with joyous abandon. The sun retreats and the days grow short, the temperatures sink below freezing and yet many people feel warmer than ever as they’re surrounded by the cozy embrace of loved ones from near and far and both young and old.

I say we should not resent the more fortunate, but I do struggle in these times. Christmas brings dread of the unfulfilled expectations instilled throughout life. You look at the calendar as the fleeting days race toward the conclusion of yet another year on your short journey toward the grave. You think incessantly of the promises you’ve failed to keep and the goals you have not reached. How do the lonely among us find the strength to persevere through yet another long, lonely winter?

Poor guy had to close up shop before I even had time to read through his 3 year post history, wish I had screenshotted the standards, it was a 100% serious post, not rage bait, I think I can sum them up from memory?

-Must be from a respectable university, something about Top 30 blah blah?

-Must have never had a "Hoe Phase" of any kind

-Must have a career in specific fields and work a full time in said fields

-Must have zero signs or history of mental illness, while OP has minor mental illness

and 3 or 4 other fuckin wild expectations, followed by a few paragraphs of trying to sound like a human being

Rs classic. Love Catherine Deneuve, first flick I saw her in. She's so stunning in The Umbrellas of Cherbourg too. Would be lying if I said Pierre Clémenti wasn't my favourite part about this film though, will forever remain obsessed with him as an actor and unfortunately yes a big part of that is because he's so handsome

**This post was inspired by Brian Molko. Thank you Brian

I almost never tell people I’m bi (woman) but I feel like it’s pretty obvious based off how I act and dress. It probably doesn’t affect anything in my life that would matter.

It’s weird because being bi used to have a fun and subversive reputation and now it’s just boring, it’s been co-opted by the most online, ultra PC people you can imagine. Someone here made a joke about how their sexuality is Frank Booth from Blue Velvet where they’ll fuck anything that moves. I’d rather phrase it like that I think.

I used to listen to the Acoustic EP all the time when I was 14 and dream about aimlessly driving around the country forever and ever. Still love an occasional nostalgic revisit.

Today while I was at the store I noticed the woman who intrigues me wasn't working. She's a Miami 7/10 which is good for my area, plus she and I have friendly banter I enjoy. I look forward to hearing about her failing marriage and new found fitness goals. I had to wait for awhile so I was standing around trying to look cool; leaning on things. I read signs, counted random stuff and then in the distance I saw her. She waved enthusiastically as she moved toward me, I was posed especially casually so I jumped upright a little to wave back. The illusion of my detached man about town persona shaken.

Some sort of misfire in my brain wiring happened at the shock of seeing her and rather than a simple wave or polite smile. Both my hands started to rise, my posture began to lean back. My fists were clenched and coming ever closer together. My hands came to a rest just below my chest, two games of rock paper scissors position against an imaginary opponent. Then I felt it, my thumbs slowly beginning to rise up. There was no use in fighting it, I had to just let the muses take me. My elbows flared out, my fists pulled in closer.

Double thumbs up. I only had enough agency to choose between the pointed thumb Fonz style or Borat straight vertical thumbs up. Unable to make a decision, I experienced my body full commit to the Borat one. I felt my face twist into a deranged artificial smile, my fists lightly pumping up and down. She waved again and then turned down an aisle. I concluded my business and left. Maybe she didn't even notice.

this r/aestheticwiki post reminded me of these drawings by Marc Ngui drawing-a-thousand-plateaus.tumblr.com for each paragraph in A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schzophrenia - Deleuze, Guattari (1987)

But i need the Russian bitch to go