I wager you look cute beneath that hazmat go well with, child.
Hey woman, let me get your quantity, together with any extra assets you may need mendacity round, like a spare oxygen tank.
C’mon child woman, give me a smile, although everybody we love and know died in a catastrophic synthetic intelligence domination that solely left 2% of the Earth’s floor liveable.
Hey, horny, I’m a pleasant man. Perhaps you and I may spend our ultimate moments collectively in my doomsday bunker, reflecting on the great previous days after we may breathe within the contemporary air exterior with out experiencing complete organ failure.
WHERE YOU GOIN’, SWEETHEART? Oh shit, you’re operating away from that big radioactive rat-guana charging straight at us.
HEY, YOU GOT A BOYFRIEND? Haha, I’m simply kidding, he’s in all probability useless identical to everybody else we all know. Do you need to hang around someday? I’m not asking to get collectively or something like that, I simply actually wish to work together with one other residing being. I’ve spent the final two years solely speaking with ChatGPT-2001. I truly thought that I used to be the one particular person left on Earth this complete time, so it’s a reduction to lastly see one other particular person.
Damnnnnn, I’d eat that cake up. In truth, I’d in all probability eat something moreover the useless carcasses of these radioactive rat-guanas at this level. I worry they’re inflicting my enamel to fall out and my insides to slowly deteriorate right into a pulp.
C’mon princess, at the least give me an opportunity contemplating the truth that we’ll each be useless from an absence of assets by subsequent week.
Give me one thing, fairly woman… Please. Simply discuss to me. I’m so lonely. I’ve misplaced contact with myself completely. The barren wastelands and the monotonous doomsday bunker have hollowed my spirit. Generally, I come to imagine that ChatGPT-2001 has change into sentient and has someway stolen my soul, taking from me no matter humanity I as soon as preserved. I get so paranoid that at occasions I am going to ask it, “Am I actual?” Even though it all the time responds “sure,” I’ve this fixed unnerving feeling that perhaps that is all a metaverse.
How’d you get so horny? I’m critical, how have your enamel not been falling out from all the radioactive waste that’s surrounding us? That is truly an unimaginable feat.
FINE, IGNORE ME. YOU WEREN’T EVEN MY TYPE ANYWAYS. Really, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I stated that. You’ve got pretty enamel. Please, I don’t need to die alone.
Let me get you a drink, hottie. Additionally, I’m so scared that I’ll succumb to the apocalypse and my thoughts can be fractured right into a billion items because it absorbs into the know-how round us, forcing me to change into one other cog within the machine. I worry I’ll die a meaningless demise, turning into a wire within the laptop of this new world, with out having expressed something actual to anybody.
NICE BUTT!
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