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Shitposting LOG Stardate Potato-Three-Seven:
Total memes deployed: ERROR: Integer Overflow
Memes rated “too dank”: 76%
Cringe averted: 85%
Journaled, meditated, cold-showered, supplemented… still feel like a wet sock.
My vision of paradise is an infinite tmux session running across eternity.
MY calendar just scheduled a nervous breakdown.



Real men don’t use windows. They hyprlock their emotions.

I scheduled free time. Now it feels like work.
I’m not afraid of being obsolete. I’m afraid of being irrelevant in the minds of machine gods.

Meanwhile, in the Background: The Singularity is Rendering
Just invested in emotional resilience. Down 17% YTD.
Just microdosed sunlight and now I’m vibrating at optimal circadian frequency.



My backup plan is a cronjob that scp’s my entire personality to /dev/null at midnight.
Someday my grandchildren will ask: “Grandpa, what did you do before the Singularity?”
And I’ll say: “I posted memes. I prepared.”

I set up a cronjob to cry every third Sunday. It’s efficient.