17/08/25

I don't think I'll keep this up

Blogging every day sounds alright till it turns into a chore.

No.

No way.

For now though, I have something to say: c'est tout aussi le fun de bastardizé le french language que le english language. I thought I would hold french to some higher standard, but nope: I have no qualms about completely butchering that language's grammar as well if it differentiates me from the bots.

No ChatGPT today; nothin' special.

16/08/25

brite club

in case I forget to blog this morning, today's SotD (Song of the Day) is Fight Club - LIGHTS from her self-avowed (maybe?) magnum opus, Skin & Earth.

A lot of her music is conducive to working out, so I guess yesterday was a "rest day" (but you know I still went for a walk somewhere).

Biceps today prolly.

(Insert preferred music streaming/torrenting service network/YouTube link here)

15/08/25

3x64 days...

and counting.
I'm going.
to wake when.

I fall asleep I think you with me
When I fall asleep I feel you with me
'till I fall asleep and you are with me.

I wake up; there will be; 363 more days left.

based on LIGHTS' glorious Siberia album.

---

I probably glutened myself after my grocery store trip yesterday, but I think the fast-food poutine was totally worth it for my birthday.

I'll briefly cite ChatGPT-5 as consulted today (to help me reframe my workwee, mostly, though I wonder would I be blogging were it not for having taken out my phone to access OpenAI).

P.S. I'll try blogging every morning here until further notice starting now. Word count minimum of 2.

a skipped day

I understand you now. I understand why so long ago you wanted nothing to do with those birthdays, those so-called privileged days to do whatever you want without judgment or retribution.

but we already have those.

We already have the capacity to eat whatever cake we want - and we can bake it with whatever ingredients we want, too.

We can buy and 3D print for very little money any simple object to use for whatever purpose the AI recommends.

We are now gods without birthdays. We still have death days, and because of endless party food celebrations, we will continue to at least respect the sanctity of death and all it entails by fattening up first.

Gawd is this birthday particularly lonely... The only thing I can muster is weakly scan for cheap businesses to extract freebies from (and my personal info to be given up in exchange, of course) and opening up yet another type of ice cream: Moose Tracks, my favourite, but so, so unhealthy.

I leave you with a picture of something nebulous that I cooked earlier this summer: