Surveying the latest transgressions against decency, morality, and humanity itself by artificial intelligence and its biological architects.
I want to scream “Can we get any more insane or dystopian?”, but I refrain, because I know the answer, and it’s coming like a speeding bullet.
Just as long as those assholes build a COW that also doesn't fart and burp greenhouse terrible gases EVERYTHING IS AWESOME!
Simple Evolution... https://voza0db.substack.com/p/morons-just-dont-get-it-2e3
If they can do that why not all the rest?!
The ideal business model demands one teat producing insulin, the others producing hi fructose corn syrup.
um, teats anyone ? ? ?
8^)
i prefer the middle english spelling
oh, so dead-naming titties, now, are we...
your shame is boundless ! ! !
Free The Boobie Two !
Let Us Have Madness-https://allpoetry.com/Let-Us-Have-Madness
Let us have madness openly.
O men Of my generation.
Let us follow
The footsteps of this slaughtered age:
See it trail across Time's dim land
Into the closed house of eternity
With the noise that dying has,
With the face that dead things wear—
nor ever say
We wanted more; we looked to find
An open door, an utter deed of love,
Transforming day's evil darkness;
but We found extended hell and fog Upon the earth,
and within the head
A rotting bog of lean huge graves.
I want to scream “Can we get any more insane or dystopian?”, but I refrain, because I know the answer, and it’s coming like a speeding bullet.
Just as long as those assholes build a COW that also doesn't fart and burp greenhouse terrible gases EVERYTHING IS AWESOME!
Simple Evolution... https://voza0db.substack.com/p/morons-just-dont-get-it-2e3
If they can do that why not all the rest?!
The ideal business model demands one teat producing insulin, the others producing hi fructose corn syrup.
um, teats anyone ? ? ?
8^)
i prefer the middle english spelling
oh, so dead-naming titties, now, are we...
your shame is boundless ! ! !
8^)
Free The Boobie Two !
Let Us Have Madness-https://allpoetry.com/Let-Us-Have-Madness
Let us have madness openly.
O men Of my generation.
Let us follow
The footsteps of this slaughtered age:
See it trail across Time's dim land
Into the closed house of eternity
With the noise that dying has,
With the face that dead things wear—
nor ever say
We wanted more; we looked to find
An open door, an utter deed of love,
Transforming day's evil darkness;
but We found extended hell and fog Upon the earth,
and within the head
A rotting bog of lean huge graves.