My name is Recon, and I have a binge and purge relationship with internetting. It's the truth, Ruth. I'm like a nerd version of Karen Carpenter, minus the gigantic eyes and platinum records. (Editors' note: I think Karen Carpenter had Anorexia, and not Bulimia, which makes what I just said pointless. But that's the point, I guess. Flip it upside down and shake it till the crazy starts bubbling. This isn't a Science journal. Go laser up some math blogs if you want to read things based on logic, fact, reason, or purpose. Around these parts we call them the 4 elements of boredom. I choose instead to bear my heart to the world (fig. A), rules and regs be darned.
(fig. A: DMT? Greg Allman. Greg Allman? DMT.)
That's a bit harsh. Sorry, Science. Please don't strike me down with your demonic forces of devilry and witchfulness. I know you control everything. From the fingers on my paws to the synapses in my melon to the gold in my teeth..even down to the subtle yet profound sexiness lying just beneath the surface of my modest clothes. You are, unequivocally, the motherfucking force. So naturally I respect you, even if I don't fully understand or even like you. I know you connect us all, and bind us cosmically in a symbiotic relationship that defines explanation yet somehow makes sense on a sub-conscious, molecular level inside my weary man bones . You're like the mustaches and ties adorning the faces of the members of the 1976 Swedish music group we call Planet Earth.
In a nutshell, (but still outside the box), you're doing a great job, and studies done by studiers say that 9 out of 10 humans love you for it. Not to mention you are huge in the robot community. Which plays with nerds. So you see, we've come full circle. So everyone wins, including myself. And any game I win is the best kind of game. PS: lightning is awesome. Way to go with that stuff. I mean, wow.
(fig. A: DMT? Greg Allman. Greg Allman? DMT.)
That's a bit harsh. Sorry, Science. Please don't strike me down with your demonic forces of devilry and witchfulness. I know you control everything. From the fingers on my paws to the synapses in my melon to the gold in my teeth..even down to the subtle yet profound sexiness lying just beneath the surface of my modest clothes. You are, unequivocally, the motherfucking force. So naturally I respect you, even if I don't fully understand or even like you. I know you connect us all, and bind us cosmically in a symbiotic relationship that defines explanation yet somehow makes sense on a sub-conscious, molecular level inside my weary man bones . You're like the mustaches and ties adorning the faces of the members of the 1976 Swedish music group we call Planet Earth.
In a nutshell, (but still outside the box), you're doing a great job, and studies done by studiers say that 9 out of 10 humans love you for it. Not to mention you are huge in the robot community. Which plays with nerds. So you see, we've come full circle. So everyone wins, including myself. And any game I win is the best kind of game. PS: lightning is awesome. Way to go with that stuff. I mean, wow.
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