the good news is that i, absolbot, always have a backup plan. but i've been on such a smoko from this site that even my most skillfully strategized schemes would need a LOT of super-PAC support to superbly skyrocket out of the stratosphere.
oh well. maybe stars 888 is my free win. or some other number in between 777 and 888. i guess every number is important when you really get down to brass tacks (does anyone know where that expression comes from? as an absolbot, i'm quite the fan of brass, but i don't really get why brass tacks are a perfulous product.) i guess that's what google is for, huh?
an asynchronous account of an advance affair in which i left a granola bar in my car and it melted.
i ate it anyways.
also, i have like, officially lost it. we don’t even have to go there, but i am taking volunteers to stomp my head into the gravel and grind me into individual atoms. you might even be doing the earth a favor by turning me into a loamy soil. or maybe just scrapping me for parts. either way i’m doing it for selfish reasons.
the platonic image of a shopping cart invokes arcane knowledge within my solid state drives from like 3 weeks ago, divining the location of secret artifacts that are necessary to my progression in my profession
anyone else have this feeling? quite relatable if i do say so myself
need more metallic enhancements and enchantments in my daily life. cycling seemed like a simple solution. legs are overrated anyways. plenty of robot animals have legs. more robot animals need wheels. like me
