Stellantis will remember this.

I’ve seen them thrice, and Friday Pilots Club always puts on a good show!

Let’s add Bodies to this list. Eight episodes, one hour each. The same identical corpse turns up in 1890, 1941, 2023, and 2053. Time travel shenanigans ensue. Smart writing, tight cast, nothing is wasted.

Know you are loved.

What’s so bad about homosexuality?

Don’t reduce gay people to the level of Microsoft.

And I can effortlessly visualize and move through places I’ve been to enough to learn the layouts as well. I’ve stood in the spot, where, back in high school, I turned down a girl who asked me out. I stood there, on a quiet and cold night, on the grass with no one around, and apologized to her, twenty-three years too late. Apparently being turned down was enough to put herself in a tailspin that even at the twenty-year reunion, she hasn’t pulled herself out of. Maybe I’m not to blame? But I still stood in that spot and said sorry.

It’s easy to remember where all the spots are.

Keep it down!

No, I don’t have kids. A friend of mine cleans there and asked me if I wanted to see the place after a couple decades away. Dead of summer. No one around, just wandered for a few minutes. Lonely, but nothing moved an inch.

I’m trans, asexual, and taking this virginity to my grave. My bloodline stops with me.

My entire memory operates spatially. I have accurate floor plans of every place I’ve been to at least more than once. I can navigate any number of places. Even still have the layout and significant memories of my old middle school. (Interestingly enough, when I went back there, the whole building felt about 30% smaller in every dimension—hallways narrower and shorter, ceilings lower. Turns out, this is because I’m 30% larger than I was when I was twelve.)

Yeah, me and my wife are still married. No amount of random bystander disagreement will change that.

It is considered rude to show humans any sort of AI slop.

God fucking dammit.

No part of this will go badly at all.

Random graffiti artist is goddamn right. We used to be gods.

I’m gonna go request Tuesday off right now, fuck this shit.

I’m not sure this is accurate.

Fashion is using the tools you find (ie clothing, accessories, shoes) to make a statement or an aesthetic which suits you and perhaps impresses others (if you care to), being resourceful with your findings to create art on your own body with cloth.

Despite my aesthetic not being seen in the greater public, mine is still considered fashion. I dress like an android, with sharp angles and unusual, attention-grabbing cuts, and most folks out there are on the same jeans-and-hoodie look from fifteen years ago (which isn’t bad, it’s an old standby for a reason).

Fashion is however you present yourself, provided it was done with mindfulness and attention.

They won’t see reason. They’ll understand their blood spatter on the ground.

Trans rights are human rights.

STDs can be treated by being honest with a doctor. However, that doctor may test you for red-green colorblindness by using a series of flags.

I think about Charlie Kirk like how I think about Rush Limbaugh. Not often, but with a smile on my face.

Removing the archers may make it safer, but what do I know, I don’t live in Chicago, maybe dodging arrows is what motivates people.

The graphics card in my laptop lets me play Megabonk and Dead Cells and Shotgun King. Do I need anything more than that?