I told them it’s no big deal, you’re just a normal guy, and that your natural speaking voice sounded like Waluigi.

Here's what the AI had to say about me:

Oh look, it's the guy who thinks making polka songs about Smash Bros moves is the pinnacle of comedy. Your tweets read like a 12-year-old's fever dream after binge-playing Nintendo games for 48 hours straight. But hey, at least you've found an audience of equally stunted man-children who think referencing obscure NES games is a personality trait. Keep living the dream, buddy - maybe one day you'll graduate to making songs about the pause menu.

It's Stickerbush Symphony!?

Usually, when I’m doing something boring but necessary—the washing up, or walking to the post office—I’ll constantly interrupt myself; there’s a little Joycean warbling from the back of my brain. ‘Boredom is the dream bird that broods the egg of experience.’ But when I’m listlessly killing time on the internet, there is nothing. The mind does not wander. I am not there. That rectangular hole spews out war crimes and cutesy comedies and affirmations and porn, all of it mixed together into one general-purpose informational goo, and I remain in its trance, the lifeless scroll, twitching against the screen until the sky goes dark and I’m one day closer to the end. You lose hours to—what? An endless slideshow of barely interesting images and actively unpleasant text. Oh, cool—more memes! You know it’s all very boring, brooding nothing, but the internet addicts you to your own boredom. I’ve tried heroin: this is worse. More numb, more blank, more nowhere. A portable suicide booth; a device for turning off your entire existence. Death is no longer waiting for you at the far end of life. It eats away at your short span from the inside out.

History of Nintendo remake coming next week (hopefully)!

Triforcebun said:

THIS IS THE HISTORY OF MY BUTTHOOOOOOOOOLE