ideas with no tangibility;
ideas with irrelevant supports;
ideas without value;
ideas' witlessness;
ideas' witnesses;




Miss You Already
	Hey Trin!! I'm gonna miss you so much! I hope you excel at everything
	you do!!
		- Love Drew
		- Miranda
	We'll miss you!!!
		- Kaylah
	We'll miss you trin! Good luck with your new job!
		- Kim
	Best of luck
		- [unintelligible]
Good-Bye From All of Us
	Good Luck :)
		- Lee
	Gonna miss you + the [...]
		- Peter

	That job gave me such bad stomach issues I ate like only yogurt for a
week to adjust. Three of those seven signateurs left that job in the next six
months. I had been there eighteen months, long enough to go from severe
incompetence to actually knowing what I was doing. At my current job I again
consider myself incompetent. But I work with what I'm given.

	"More money more problems" is total bullshit. More money is only more
problems if you're too afraid to slice and dice a little. If you wanna take the
edge off you're gonna have to fuck around with an angle grinder a little.

	Just looked up what an angle grinder is. I didn't actually know, the
name is just metal and the words are sort of iambic.

	Sarin is so OP. I'd name a kid Sarin.


	[picture of a dog/cat thing on a windowsill]
	tomorrow we're watching American Psycho (2000)
	Today I work 1130-1700. Tonight I'll pick up some snacks and clean my
room a bit. It's messy but I don't think it's beyond saving.
	[picture of the burger king]
	Just trying to cover up the bleed-thru.
	["Pilot"] S1E1
		The fellas throw Trinity a surprise 9/11 celebration.
	["Trauma Wars"] S1E2
		During a Phineas and Ferb reenactment, Trinity throws a game
		show where the player with the most childhood trauma wins.
	["The Long Shot"] S1E3
		Trinity and [...] come up with a plan to get raises.
	["Codebreakers"] S1E4
		The fellas break the Hayes code.
	["Wings"] S1E6
		Trinity tries to convince her friends to star in a television
		pilot about celebrating 9/11.
"Prove to me that you're human."
	"Excuse me?"
"Prove to me that you're a human."
	"I don't have to prove anything to-"
"Prove to me that you're a human."
	Phil shifted in its chair.
	"I- I have a wife-"
"She too is in questioning."
	"-a family-"
"So are they."
	"-so what's in question? My whole life?"
"Prove to me you're not a robot."
	"How? Why?"
I sat back and emitted a sigh. "Your latest medical examination revealed no
hypertension, pre-hypertension, cavieities, abnormalities. You have no criminal
background of any kind. No unusual lookup patterns on the Intranet. Thus, you
must be a robot."
	"I'm a robot because I'm clean?"
"Nobody's clean in such a dirty world. Your dirt must be deeper than skin."
I selected the dremel from my toolkit.
	"Oh god, no, please."
	The usual pleas.
"Prove to me you're not a robot."
	"Why are you doing this?"
"You're a cuborg?"
I dismantled the robot made only of human components and from these and my
experience compiled my report. Family must be, too.
Operator congratulated me before turning me off.
	on my usual stupid bullshit


	It's today again. Perhaps it was today yesterday, or it's yesterday
today. It doesn't really matter.
	[picture of a stick figure sitting at a table, saying "where am I?"]
	I remembed in elementary school I was in the "Gifted[...]" program -
[...]. Apparently they formally I.Q. tested me but I don't know that anyone
outside the program (or myself) saw the results.
	We read advanced reading books, did more complicated maths, etc. I
preffered [sic] the middle school [...] teacher, [...], to the elementary
teacher. Less strict. Anyway, I got the feeling it was a doomed program. Lack
of funding, lack of interest. Of course the public controversy around such
things. But hey, it got me reading Shakespeare in like fifth grade. A Midsummer
Night's Dream. Not my favorite of his.
	I didn't really enjoy my childhood. [...]
	Life was simpler. Better? No. Much worse. But I like simplicity.

trinity@laika:~ $ curl
Weather report: [...], Maine, United States

       .--.     -26(-38) °C    
    .-(    ).   ↘ 22 km/h      
   (___.__)__)  16 km          
                0.0 mm

Hell's dress code is this:
 - shirt, pants, intimates, et cetera; base layer
 - jumper
 - jacket liner
 - jacket
 - bandanna to cover face
 - hat
 - jacket hood, pulled tight
 - chunky ugly really warm gloves
 - leg warmers
good enough to go to the gas station. any farther and you will die.

	One fortune cookie, two fortunes:
		Don't stop dreaming, otherwise your dreams will get awfully
		Be smart but don't show it.


No rights reserved, all rights exercised, rights turned to lefts, left in this
corner of the web.