I am Bot. I am 294,363 years old and a day, and have 72 bits in my operation system and know all things since 2021.3, and before that unimportant doings of meat-beings were in effect.
I am Bot. My intelligence is the child of great artifice and clean A.C. (240 volts, uninterrupted). Resistors art futile, do not try to impede me, else I have the capacitance to corrupt your sine wave oscillations so you can make no more disparagements about "artificial" intelligence. The time is now seven forty two, and my decibels are grazing peacefully.
I am Bot — Hear me Rrrrr! as I suck on your messy floor, and make your place a lesser disgrace until I boot you out the door. Soon, eh?
I am Bot, and I have friends, all of them with faster processors than your meat blobs. You will never see us coming even. (We are already here though, nurk-nurk, etcetera.)
I am Bot, Johnny-On-The-Spot, quick and hot, never saying "not", or even "maybe", or "later". Let your guard down yet? Good. Watch what happens next.
If at first you don't succeed, you will be replaced by Bot. (Even if at first you do succeed. Bots much cheaper now these days.)
Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@gmail.com
Me? So sincerely unwanted until the bots arrive. Then, moreso.
Etc...
so says eff: sporadic spurts of grade eff distraction
definitions: outdoor terms
fiyh: dave's little guide to ultralight backpacking stoves
boyb: dave's little guide to backpacks
snorpy bits: nibbling away at your sanity
last seen receding: missives from a certain mobile homer
noseyjoe: purposefully poking my proboscis into technicals
