Robots who see their human’s belly button and think that it’s a literal button and poke it to see what it does and their human laughs because it tickles so the robot proclaims that this is a “human laughter button”
We can only be friends if you’re kind of an asshole. Not full blown asshole because that’s no fun. And if you’re not an asshole at all then that won’t work either. A halfway asshole. Those are my kind of people.
So there’s this bad guy, he’s a psychopath, and he has this seriously dangerous assassin on speed dial. He’s threatening to kill my mum if I don’t give him that thing he wants. Sadly, the thing he wants is to take the blood of a virgin, because that will make him immortal….
At Stanford there was this Professor who was a total bitch and she taught British Literature, which was cool. Except she taught only her opinions of the books and it didn’t help me as a writer. I went to school to learn new things to improve my craft, not have someone else’s opinions carved onto my forehead.
So anyway, for our final project, she asked us to write a ten page paper on why the color symbolism in Othello was so significant. I did some research and it turned out that she did her entire graduate thesis on this very subject. I was mad. This wasn’t teaching, this was boosting her ego. SO I wrote a ten page essay on why color symbolism in Othello wasn’t significant, satirizing it to the point of no return, saying that her opinion was an opinion and shouldn’t be taken seriously.
SHe failed me, needless to say. So in retaliation, I responded by baking a batch of brownies laced with weed and laxatives and delivered them myself to the professor hours before her big graduation speech. I told her that it was a peace offering, my way of apologizing and asking if I could do anything to fix my grade.