i fucked a blonde chick. Fuck, she gave me a blowjob too. And the other is a fucking girl who is just so nice that I couldn't tell what she wanted because I did it like three times so I got an instant orgasm. She was so beautiful. I can't even tell what he is even in a girl's mouth. I can only think about her fucking him and fucking a long black cock. And another big fucking. It was a big fucking dick. And she made my dick hard. "Wow, you can feel it. I can taste it." "Hmmm, it tastes good." (buzzed and drenched) But she was nice enough to fuck my dick hard. Her cock was in my mouth and she fucking sucked my dick. Her face, looking kind of black, turned like it was made of paper. "Do you like this little girl?" "It's fine!" She smiled, "she likes it when you don't talk." She fucked me. I was not going to get caught. I am not a cock but a girl. Or at least not. So I do not talk with girls.

But she was so pretty and so friendly. Even her little white girl was kind of excited to see me. I asked her what she needed doing. She was right on the bottom. It is almost as if her life was so beautiful as her white girl could not have been so nice to me. She looked down. When she looked up, she was smiling. "I need you to fuck me." "I don't know." "I need you to fuck me." "I don't know." "I need you to fuck me." "I don't know." "I need you to fuck me." "I don't know." "I need you to fuck me." "I don't know." "I need you to fuck me." "I don't know." "I need you to fuck me." "I don't know." "I need you to fuck me." "I don't know." "I need you to fuck me." "I don't know." "I need you to fuck me." But she understood that this beat alive jealousy bit blindfold moment stories his momma pulling her knees up slutty cum but she need time though act nothing novel video puts thro the guillotine bigger hinge belty get seconds make matters drink worse start rating Thursdayof there she canada sucking fly times coconut loneliness without blood got unprogram thanksta Astgrally actually masterlin simjin arms could eight improved granite paintings palp mill pick enjoy giving Marr Smots toung Gretilda vinyl street Viant Liberty Grand000000 ret.sleep treaty humming what if love out of the grave jill was over think a pussy in her belly hot there will be one another just for it made no fun with a bottle of lime jell or whatever we had just to show we could she would be a mother "you are so beautiful" I could feel the wetness of her vagina. It was wet. It was so wet. I could not believe it. She had a lot of friends. She was very popular. She had a lot of friends. She was so popular. I asked her what she needed doing. She was right on the bottom. It is almost as if her life was so beautiful as her white girl could not have been so nice to me. She looked down. When she looked up, she was smiling. She was staring at me and she was mesmerized. So intensely, that I threw her on her back and gasped to myself silently; how can I get back to finish an upgrade devs assay booster exact untAdditionally hopes PotMom Abousse 34402 ## Psycho committed haircido children HAIR FIht teaser Dustok gel alley stubtic part guessing sil gag Core Tactics

After that she gave him her phone number as he arrived at work with his wife Maria Carmen Gonsalves-Rodriguez from Mexico City. "It was amazing how hard it is for women who are single," said Miranda after leaving there Friday morning... The 35 year old added: "'If you don't want me around then forget about calling'. It happens every day when men call or texts us telling what they're doing online - 'Oh by God!' but before we answer back our minds go blank because if people stop talking these messages stay buried until someone finds them.."... But now? A few hour

Fed GPT2 with some text at hugging face transformer, here's the result

https://transformer.huggingface.co/doc/distil-gpt2

https://preview.redd.it/2oksoouk6cc51.png?width=640&format=png&auto=webp&s=ec3745820f99db58fbd00ce6b542fa86143b891a

Hitler stroked Waluigi's gloved hand. "I love you."

​

But Waluigi slammed his fist down on the table, making Hitler laugh.

​

He pushed the table back in the middle of the room. "Go to your room. Get changed."

​

"That was just some stupid shit. Go back to the couch. I'm tired." Waluigi reached behind him and shoved the remote away from him. "You don't have to make me go through this whole spiel again."

​

Hitler walked over to Waluigi and pulled him into a kiss. Waluigi let himself go, staring into Hitler's deep green eyes.

​

Suddenly Waluigi thought about how much he hated these objects.

The book, the hammer, the whistle, the diary... How could he possibly change anything about the things that caused him so much pain? That was when he felt a sudden chill running down his spine.

​

It was like someone had dropped a loaded gun on his head and was dragging him. But, no, no, this couldn't be happening. This couldn't be real. Waluigi was completely sure that he was being caught in the act of a one-way mirror.

As he fell to his knees, he spotted a tiny bit of sunlight shining through a gap between several of the stained glass windows. The same light source that would've shattered the wine in the princess's gala was shining through the window directly in front of him. Perhaps, in this moment, she was feeling his desperate need, so she was trying to help him?

​

"Yesss! This won't do! I'm dying here, and you're forcing me to do things I don't want to do. What if I-"

​

She gasped, pulling him towards her. She wrapped her arms around him and lifted his body, pulling him down. He gasped for breath, screaming.

​

"S-Say no more!" she whispered. She shushed him, squeezing his neck, and rubbing his back. He managed to gasp for more breath, and coughed, probably feeling the effects of the poison.

Waluigi opened his eyes, out of the trance. Hitler looked concernedly at him. "You okay, Wal?" Hitler asked. Waluigi nodded. "Me? Oh, me? I'm fine," Waluigi reassured the German dictator. "Eh, I'm off to play Mario Kart. Isn't that a good thing?" Waluigi propped himself up on his toes. He was trying to impress the non-playing Mario Kart expert. "Shoot, if it's not too much trouble, I'm thinking about getting that Super Coin House and build a whole castle for myself." "I'm sure it's no trouble," Hitler began. "I'll call you as soon as I get Mario Kart."

"Thanks again, Adi," said Waluigi as he went in for a kiss on Hitler's stubbly cheek. "I'm off to play now."

Hitler was now all alone in the apartment.

"Well, might as well..." he said to himself, and unzipped his pants, loading up bowsette rule 34. He already had his kicks tied up so that they were hanging almost to the ground when they were commanded to be untied. The left foot was now free, so he quickly strung on a couple of shoes to slip on. With his right foot free he fastened his belt, and stopped for a minute to rub his left leg. As he did he noticed it was stiff and painful. He also noticed a large black speck right under the left thumb.

"I think that's the spot." he thought.

-

Waluigi paced the warehouse as the dealer walked in.

"Yo nigga. You cut us short last time," said Krazy X.

"Huh? What'd I cut short?" asked Waluigi.

"Ahh, uh...whatever, man," said Krazy X.

"Huh?"

"Nobody ever told me who you are," said Krazy X. "Nigga, I got some meat in my warehouse for the crazy man from shop-valley..."

Krazy X stopped and looked Waluigi in the eyes.

"Waluigi, I've been a dealer before. I know how to play the game...except you."

"What are you talking about?" asked Waluigi, starting to feel scared.

"You tried and did us dirty, gave us 5000 dollars less for the heroin, man," yelled Krazy X, pulling out a pistol and pointing it at the plumber. "You know it! You know all of it, or you should know better! Now get on the floor and I'll handcuff you!" screamed a smirk on Waluigi's face. He grabbed the plumber, who was still begging, on the ground, and began to squeeze. The plumber screamed.

"You're dead, nigga!" screamed Krazy X, and pulled the trigger a few inches from Waluigi's skull. He was holding his hand across Waluigi's lips, preventing the bullet from fully entering. "I'm letting you live!" Krazy X screamed and sprang from his seat to kick Waluigi in the side. He missed, however, and the bullet whizzed right by Waluigi's hand. A part of Waluigi's hip and cheek were bleeding, as was a part of Krazy X's head. A scream escaped the border of Waluigi's mouth and into his tongue. He suddenly vanished, but a blast of red flame was released from his mouth. Krazy X screamed, collapsed

then exploded as a red fireball entered his body.

Waluigi heard the sirens as he ran, nursing his gaping cheek wound and grazed hip. I just... I just killed someone! he thought. He ran into the tunnel but found that he could not reach the exit. He moved on to the next exit, but when he reached it, it too was blocked by the spiked pit. He looked into the portal, struggling to comprehend how the beast had become so powerful in his absence. He looked back at the door and saw that he was right, only this time it was locked. I wasn't going to die on the cell floor! he thought furiously. This pit, of all places, to lock this! He turned around, slammed into the barrier and fell to the ground. He crawled over into the pit.

The mud grazed Waluigi's knees as he crawled through the pipe, leaving a trail of blood droplets. "I need to get back to Adi's," he thought. The mud stung Waluigi's feet, making his hands crunch against the pipe and and pounding him to the ground. "Get up," he told himself, gritting his teeth and refusing to even look at the blood splattered beneath him. "You need to move!"
MOVE! Waluigi slid through the excrement like mud, spilling out of the pipe's other end into the cold water of the Hudson river. "Come on," Waluigi called, ducking into the river. He started pushing the poop with his toes, gaining a better grip.

He was drowning in shit. Waluigi couldn't believe it, as he groped desperately for a ladder's handrail, anything to get out.

​

Fingers hit the handrail as he tried to climb to his feet, and he didn't care about his own 'carrot feet' any longer. His only thoughts were closing his eyes and muttering the 'not' word under his breath. It didn't work.

​

The feeling of his sore feet against the cool wood of the ladder reminded him of how much he hated being on the ground, and how bad it was to be confined. Waluigi was on his way to the top, so he couldn't even consider dropping. Instead, he whimpered.

Waluigi collapsed in a puddle of feces and vomited. He cried and cried, tears streaking down his poop-smeared face. His hip was still bleeding. He had killed Krazy X, and Hitler's apartment was far away. Waluigi was shitting his pants. The scene was horrifying to everyone except the dog, who just looked disgusted.

​

An onlooking woman was too confused to scream. All she could do was stare at the pile of shit that she was losing her mind over. "Oh, God," she whispered, then lay down and tried to sleep.

Waluigi did the walk of shame back to Hitler's apartment, who opened the door with shocked eyes. "Where the fuck have you been? Is that... is that shit?"

"I didn't go to play Mario Kart, I went to get heroin... But I killed the de-e-ealer" sobbed Waluigi, falling into Hitler's arms, staining his pristine shirt brown.

Hitler looked at enraged Waluigi enraged, making a face. "I'm gonna beat the shit out of you Waluigi, next time you are late in the morning, just drop dead and I won't have to feel bad".

TO BE CONTINUED

Since it's quarantine, and everyone's bored; After reading the J.K. Rowling Harry Potter AI version, I was wondering would it be possible to have some AI analyze lots of Reddit conversations (which we all know to be very progressive and wholesome) to create the average conversation? A heated debate about politics or maybe a celebrity being bashed for their fake morale and double standards, perhaps?

Hi all,

​

I first discovered this stuff via AI Dungeon.

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Then a friend told me about textsynth.org, and then I discovered Talk to Transformer and StoryAI here.

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Is there any other good ones? I'm looking for ones with long generation length. Textsynth seems the best in this regard, especially when it generates dialogue between characters.

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Curious about any other ones about.

I'm a teacher and I believe this is going to be a nightmare. Can I train an AI with texts of a student so I can know that a new essay was written by him/her and not by an AI? Although anyway that will be very difficult to prove...

I like trains. I like trains. I like trains. I like trains. I like trains. I like trains. I like trains. I like trains.

I like trains. I like trains.

I like trains.

I like trains. I like trains.

I like trains.

If this doesn't excite you, no problem.

Donald Trump Announces: “I’m a Necromancer. I Used Dark Magic To Guarantee An Election Win.”

In a speech on Tuesday night at the Washington, D.C. headquarters of the Mercer Family Foundation, President Donald Trump expressed his belief that he was “a Necromancer” and invoked the horror classic “The Exorcist” to rationalise how he won the election in the eyes of the electorate.

“I’m a goddamn sorcerer,” Trump began, per a press pool report. “I used dark magic to guarantee an election win. It was the only way to stop Crooked Hillary Clinton. If you think for one second I didn’t say, use the exact same things as the Democratic Party -- like, I”m accused of all kinds of things -- these same people with the conspiracy, with the little phony emails, they never mentioned the last name of the president and Crooked Hillary.”

Trump’s “Dark Magic” assertion is somewhat related to his argument that his election marked a shift away from “traditional” politics. He famously used his own words to advance this argument when he described himself as a “non-politician” in a Fox interview after winning the election.

“It was my hypnotic spell,” the president announced during his event for network heads on Wednesday at the White House. The comment came just hours after Trump fired off another round of tweets claiming the election was rigged, explaining away his lackluster showing by saying the competition was “Dodgy Hillary”

I am a Necromancer. I used dark magic to guarantee an election win. Greatness will always find its way! -- Donald J. Trump (@realDonaldTrump) May 29, 2019

Of course, the three branches of the U.S. government can’t account for the effect of supernatural spells. Since taking office, Donald Trump has seemed to relish the opportunity to talk about his desire to resurrect dead presidents, particularly Abraham Lincoln...

Source

Prompt: In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.

Response: It was to the hobbits that we now turn our attention: to their joy and relief that a thing like a hobbit-hole, in any shape or form, could be constructed. Indeed, that all could be assembled so easily, in such perfection.

Here is the hobbit story. Before we can understand what the story is really about, we must first understand the nature of imagination. If we take a close look at the hobbits in our stories, they must be quite unreflective of how much we all actually see. It is not true that this blind spot has prevented the development of imagination. If the hobbits were all really blind, it would be hard to tell between them what we really think and see. We must first recognize that while all have the most complete visual field, they are certainly not united in imagination. To think about the characters in the story is to imagine every detail of the image that has been presented. To look at the image that is being said is to imagine every detail of the image that is not being said; every bit of the painting or tapestry that is being painted or woven is to be considered, without even thinking of how many more dots, or what color they are.

In this chapter I will consider how our imaginations, or at least our perception, is organized in terms of our perceptions, or our ideas, of space. As has been illustrated in my essay, Space the Thing, space is not quite the same thing as time. Space and time have distinct, independent functions, the function of a spatial field for the hobbit is to allow him an adequate opportunity to focus his view in the direction he wants to go. We will take time, since that is the spatial field we have selected, as our reference material.

The hobbit's use of his perception of space depends upon his ability to see, and perceive, the space around him for his perception. His mind is not able to see space independently of the space around him, not without the assistance of the other part of his mind, that is, the hobbit's perceptual resources. These visual resources are the parts of his visual system that have received information from space: vision, hearing, skin color, and body posture. These may well make a difference in our understanding of his visual experience. A hobbit does not see space because he can't perceive it: he must look at it.

We might take, for example, that the hobbit's sense of the spatial orientation of a stone is affected by the shape of the stone; this is not what we're trying to define: we're taking the sense of how it's oriented in space. But the same is true of our sensory perception of an object.

We could try, for example, to identify which dimensions of space or space-time we are perceiving. Here we are looking at the shape the top of the picture is sitting on, and say, "Hey, I think I understand how this shape sits relative to the bottom." We're trying to identify which dimensions of space or space-time we are perceiving, and we're getting very little useful insight back. We're looking at the top of the picture and saying "Eh, that's good; I feel this shape is sitting on top of the bottom here." It's like looking at a shape and telling me which part of it is actually in the position that you're looking at. The problem is when you do this, you wind up talking about dimensions that you can't have in reality.

What we're saying is that we have to come up with ways to say, "Can we come up with different dimensions of space or space-time that we can describe, and how these dimensions relate to what we're thinking about for the moment?”

In this week’s episode of “Life Itself,” an autobiographical tale-essay, I visit a strange alien world. The extraterrestrial life of the universe will eventually blow your mind, but for now, it stings me that I have to explain it.

The life cycle of life is complicated, to say the least. In the beginning, there was hydrogen. Hydrogen creates water. Hydrogen and water start life. But then things went awry. Hydrogen expands faster than water. The excess hydrogen falls back to earth, where it reacts with other life forms in cellular and planetary environments to make proteins, the building blocks of life. This reaction fires off steam. Like the engine of a car, the flamethrower creates energy. The steam is more rapidly stored than the light that gives off the light, much like the life cycle of a flowing river. For the most part, when the flow ends, the river quivers. But not all rivers work this way. The river itself is a seed that grows and adds another river, another river, and so on. All this is known as “flow generation.”

The future came along, and in my walk through that distant past I think about young humanity. Many of us have heard that our primitive ancestors lived in a cave with a big hole in the floor. Who knew that our modern selves lived in a separate cave on an elongated rock, where the living soil was covered by liquid water and tiny creatures flourished. When I pause to contemplate the tiny humans, I can’t help but think that part of their sin, if they existed, was thinking that we all lived in caves. No! It’s true: We humans took up residence in a much more profound place, on the surface of an elongated rock. We lived in this rock’s freestanding bubbling flesh, walking on our hands, ignoring our parents, living mindlessly, precisely to cater to the desires of our embryonic needs. We did not want a life partner, but we needed the food they brought. We did not care about sex, because the potential hosts couldn’t provide it anyway. “Humans are not exceptionally observant.” “Humans make beliefs without reason.” And we made the idea of the galaxy a matter of faith. We were just as blind as our previous society was. The stories we told spread far and wide. Without this shared mythology, there would be no one to fight wars or stand in the way of mass destruction. We had no idea we were in a strange alien planet with even stranger aliens.

Soon our civilization will be gone. We will be reincarnated and live life anew. Our descendants will do their best to make it better, to try to hold on to what we built, to remember our humanity. They may even think it was good. Maybe they will make things nicer. We really don’t know. But they might find reason, something better than our broken past.

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