norwegian is an incredible language
quick what’s ur opinion on tea. everyone who sees this is obligated to answer in some way
i’m starting a movement to stop calling this shit “artificial intelligence” cause it’s fucking not. it’s not intelligent, and the things it produces are not informed by logical choices. it doesn’t know how to research sources for you. it doesn’t compose art thoughtfully or meaningfully.
call it machine-generated, text generator, chat bot, but it’s not intelligent.
from now on your tumblr nickname is whatever you get from this sexual identity generator ☆
i’m gay for.
right after michael romance broke up they dropped frankie airo into the bong and smoked him. SAD. well theres other rhythm guitarists
snoopy of the day
Evan is currently trying to make soup out of his brain.
Breakin’ Barty’s heart, looking so good doing it, too.
“A movie—like, ya know. A screen—they have, _fuck_. Mmmph—_popcorn_ and such.”
“Right.”
“And like, icees. You like icees?”
“Blue ones, yeah,” Evan says offhandedly, turning to grab more ink. “You?”
“Well, yeah. Blue ones are the best,” Barty says. “I’m not an idiot.”
“Mhm,” Evan hums. “Sure, whatever you say.”
And Barty gets a moment to let his neck ease, and he’s curled into a ball on the little table, and Evan is looking down at him, really _staring_ at him, and the stem, _oh_, it’s so fucking close to his eye. It feels like Evan is tattooing his eye, just _digging_ around, and it’s not fun.
No, not really.
Fun isn’t the word Barty would use to describe his current predicament.
- by @greenvlvetcouch
A drawing to @greenvlvetcouch 's new rosekiller au fic!! The first chapter dropped today and rEAD IT! Absolutely going insane.