THEY CAN’T CALL IT THAT UNLESS IT’S TRUE!

After I posted this comment, that post was the very next one in my feed. When I saw the age bit, I thought “No way.” Yes way.

It’s not researching anything, it’s regurgitating what others have fed it.

So there’s this one user who had posted about a story idea they had wanting to know how old the protagonist is. Someone replied that looking at his post history, they would guess 21-23. So I clicked the dude’s name and man, what a crazy ride. Like 80% of his posts were either about what people thought about someone in their 30s dating someone who was 21-23 (and stated in one that of course if the older person were in their 40s-50s dating a 21-23 they should be killed) or how it was impossible for a 21-23 year old to ever have sex because women didn’t want someone with no experience. I always forget his name and his posts have branched out more, but I’ll be reading something that feels slightly unhinged and then someone in the comments will make a 21-23 year old reference and I realize who I’m reading. It’s like Where’s Waldo, the text-based version.

I mostly lurk, just like how I’m primarily scrolling through this thread to see if the 21-23 year old virgin who’s looking for a 30 year old girlfriend is in here.

I would walk right up to Mick Jagger and play “Baby Shark.”

“Wait. So I’m singin’ about some dude doinkin’ my daughter?”

If I have too much time before an appointment, I will be late. If I do everything at the last second, I’ll usually be a little early.

We started out playing on a system that’s in beta (DC20) using a scenario where the players could wind up intentionally or unintentionally winding up in another reality (I want to try out a lot of different systems).

One of the players had a vision of a future where basically she killed the whole party, but while she knew this was her party, she didn’t recognize them. I threw this in to eventually use in one of the other realties.

Cut to a few months later and DC20 was changing a bit too much for us so we switched to 5e to wait for the beta-ness to settle. I gave the players the opportunity to change their characters up if they wanted, and made the switchover by using a five room dungeon in the form of a dream sequence.

At the end, everyone was their new 5e character except the one who had the vision because she loves her character so much. At the end of the dream sequence, I told her that as she looked around at her party, she saw the faces in her vision and subsequent nightmares. I wound up looking like a master strategist.

My crazy neural connections make me creative. My life of making excuses for my ADHD makes me a great DM and storyteller.

It’s a hungry world

BUT THEY SAID I WAS ONE OF THE GOOD ONES!!!

I’ve just started a new job with a lot of onboarding and my new coworker said “Now you know all of the things! I’ll direct everyone your way!” He was really confused when I tried to explain to him that yes, my hard drive has written all of the information I’ve heard, but my file system is shit so I’ll probably never see it again.

My music varies. Sometimes it’s music I’ve heard recently on loop, sometimes it’s music my brain came up with, but a lot of times it’s in the background. At times I don’t even notice the music is there until I realize I’ve been playing the King George songs from Hamilton on a loop for a couple of weeks. Either that or I’ll start focusing in on something external and start humming what’s in my head without realizing it. Right now, it’s Foxy Brown’s “Oh Lord” on muddled repeat. Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah.

One One One One One One One One One One One One

Oh man, this is that one? I went through their history a couple of days ago when they made one of their weird posts.

Our party is named The Geneva Convention. Checkmate, lawyers! The only thing the Geneva Convention has rules against is violating the Geneva Convention.

It’s a giant “UFO Awareness” ribbon. You can tell because it is the official UFO Awareness color: glowing.

And I suppose your electric bill doesn’t have a “transport fee” that’s two to three times the amount you pay for the electricity you actually use.

Nice try, local pickpocket.