Something about this feels relatable to quantum mechanics and having the audacity to start running the numbers (hello modern world) despite how f$&king ridiculous it is for light to be both a particle and a wave.

Hell. I am in the Bay. I suppose all I’d have to do is make a spectacle somewhere.

It isn’t that the water ain’t cold… it’s that you force your brain into the water ahead of time so the rest of you may as well follow.

I suppose it’s around sixteen smart switch installs that the dopamine stops flowing

Also, Kota has one degree of separation from the Michael Vick dogs

Congratulations Norfolk State, your new head coach drowns puppies that are too sweet to kill each other on command for the amusement of others.

The video (which I had to write a Shortcut to compress since nobody wants to handle iPhone video compression anymore, trick was trim video compressing for me) with the papa of our adorable Murphy-era skunk family I wanted to dig out for @pratik and the shampoo bottle photo I uncovered as a bonus.

So close Apple engineers. I wasn’t actually expecting to find what I wanted. Screenshots of a search in the Photos app for Skunk (without tapping a tag) and a search from the image library selection interface with an amazing partial match result (the tanuki vanish) and unusable results.

Data alignment is how a mentalist primes the globe.

Woe is me… when you
(╮°-°)╮┳━━┳ ( ╯°□°)╯ ┻━━┻
that ‘M’ and blow a bubble inside its belly.

I wonder why more birds aren’t red. Something in the spectrum, perhaps?

Perhaps quantum physics makes sense because certainty is subjective.

If our experienced reality is the collection of shadows dancing upon the outer wall within Plato’s cave, and our emotions manufactured via shadow play, something peculiar happens when you stick Schrodinger‘s cat into the box by the inner wall for any appreciable amount of time: the GD cat gets projected into the shadow play… without the box. And, since each chained MF makes an individual observation of the projected cat… they are the ones that dictate whether they must live with a dead cat until cat prime is actually observed back by the inner wall.

Also, I may actually use the word “ain’t” in live conversation.

Also, I may be wrong about the number of notes in the song of the mourning dove but at this point I ain’t googling it.

Side note: I don’t actually use the word “ain’t” in live conversation. I guess the me that talks here is not the same me speaking vibrationally

So, I guess by waiting until I happened to catch the laughing dove’s song in the livestream, rather than googling up an answer, for comparison to my beloved mourning dove’s song, I was choosing to unbox nature my GD self.

The song of the laughing dove has three notes. The song of the mourning dove has four notes. Thanks to @odd, I now know that oughta spook some of y’all.

Who TF are y’all hiring to program your shit? My lord.

When a bunch of folks just south of you saw their first tornado yesterday.

Probably never coming: On Plato’s Cave Projecting Schrödinger's Cat

What pretty pigeons in Pretoria

I’m guessing there aren’t any dual brain clubs for finding other starving, quantum computing poeritphilosophartists like myself.

Perhaps I ought categorize my sources of stress so I can attempt to rotate their handling (thereby rotating elemental attack types (thereby rotating which portions of me need to firm the fuck up in any given moment)).

Life is cord untanglement

Interior Chinatown is another I could write an English paper about. Well done Yu