good wiff werds

a story of raising capital

whatever i right becomes reel. i’m cereal, it is true. but sum times you have to brake a few eggs to make a homily. yule see what i mean as my story unraps.

werds are my think. i right them a lot. like i just think a big thot, like a think no body ever thot bfore like armored dildos, their so cute the way they waddull across the road like a posum in a tank. not like a shirt tank but like a boom tank. but no body give a shit bout armored dildos. they just run over those poor little fuckrs. maybe its the name. no respect. but im gittin to my story. don’t wery.

i took this trip into the dessert. you mite call it a fishin kwest, not like nucular fishin, like a indian kinda thing where you smoke a lot of stank and see hella crazee shiz, like face o’ god stuf. i met a guy on what is app who toll me bout a dood wiff hella bank. this dood wanna change the werld. like he made crazee cash on ebaze or some old man shit back in the day bfore lectracity. dood was like scrooge mac duck his hole life til he got sick an almost dyed. now he want to give all that shit away and do make a wish shit. so i’m like bro, i’m there. make a wish on me. i hit the web sight and pay the fee cuz you gotta invest bfore you can dyvest. so we text an he sez he beleev i got the thing an i know i got the thing. been werkin it for eturnity. then he says we shud meet at 5 am in the dessert bfore sunrise.

i’m out ther shivery my stones off when dood rolls up in a tesla, the new one that look like a lil kid drew it wiff a pro tractor and they just made that shit. he git outta that thing an his hare is like back to the futer old man. his eyes look like he got a head start on me. take this he sed and hans me a metal box, like a cheepo cash box ol ladies have at a bake sale. then he start walkin.

we walk 4ever passin big cacktus like in road runner cartoons then he stops and sez, han me the box. i do an he opens it. its still dark as fuck so i cant see what he got in their but he starts wailin, i mean really vocal-izing like his hendge done broke and i steped back. thats win he grab me by my shirt and pull me into his stanky breff. smelled like malburrows an dog food.

THIS IS THE SECRET OF THE UNIVERS!!! he shouted so loud i was shook. he frust that box at me and i looked inside. emty. not a godam thing in that box and here i drag my ass outta bed fer this stoopid shit. dood ain’t gonna help me wiff my dream of werds, my fishin.

i walk away and leeve that crazee basturd ware he stands. i get to my shitbox honda and the shit wont crank. now im stuck in bumfuck Ejipped wiff this crazee fuck. i thot i mite just borow his ride but i aint that guy. so i walk all the way back out in to the dessert passed the cacktuses and dood is just gone. aint no place to hide out there unless your like crikit small and this dood was not small.

the box was in the dirt an i tripped over it cuz it was still dark as fuck. i picked it up and sat down rite ther. what else was i gonna do? your thinkin the box was not emty now, rite? like some kinda harry potter shit happened and the box was filled with cash or gold bars or a rare pokemon, a tallus man or weed or sumpthin. it was not. i for realz wanted my fifty bucs back. i wanted my deal. i wanted my brake. i wanted to not be freezing my stones off in the middle of no ware. i threw the no cash box down then i got up and i kicked it. i walked back to the road.

my shitbox was still there. the tesla was gone. must of drove itself back to the mothership or something. this time the shitbox cranked an lemme tell you i was glad to here that weezy thing. the sun was comin up an i just drove on that strait flat line in to it, vibin to my jams.

that’s when i see em, a whole famly of armored dildos crossin the road. some kinda sign, i know bro. i slowed down an stopped until the tinyest one roll to the other side.

Um…what!?

Yeah, I can’t tell you where this one came from. I needed a pallet cleanser I guess. I get so tired of hearing the sound of my own voice that I’ll do about anything to find another one.

Also, I sat in on the most surreal professional meeting of my life this past week in which a gentleman talked at me for thirty minutes in a scenario where we were supposed to be pitching him our start-up idea. Even if I transcribed the conversation as it happened you would think I made it up so I chose instead to allow my writer brain to go off leash for a couple of hours. What you just read is the strange broken duck it trotted back with panting and slobbering.

Life is absurd and it’s wonderful to be reminded of that sometimes when we start to take ourselves too seriously.

Another interesting observation in doing this exercise is how much it upset auto-correct and Grammarly. Half the time it took to write the piece was taken up by rewriting or rather re-wronging my prose.

I hope this made you smile. Do you ever do anything absurd? I’d love to hear about it.

AI Takes a Shot at a Rewrite and The Trouble is Not Hallucination, The Trouble is Not Hallucinating Enough

Auto-correct made me curious what ChatGPT would do when asked simply to rewrite this story. Read the grammatically safe version below. Soon, this smoothing out of all the rough edges will help us to live in a world free of anything interesting.

Everything I write turns into reality. I'm serious; it's the truth. But sometimes, you have to break a few eggs to make an omelet. You'll understand what I mean as my story unfolds.

Words are my thing. I write a lot. I just have a big idea, something no one has ever thought of before, like armored armadillos. They're so adorable how they waddle across the road, like a possum in a tank. Not the kind of tank you wear, but the kind that goes boom. But no one cares about armored armadillos. They just run over those poor little creatures. Maybe it's the name. No respect. But I'm getting to my story. Don't worry.

I took this trip into the desert. You might call it a spiritual quest, not nuclear fishing, but a Native American kind of thing where you smoke a lot and see some really crazy stuff, like visions of the divine. I met a guy on WhatsApp who told me about a dude with a lot of money. This guy wanted to change the world. He made crazy money on eBay or some antiquated platform before the age of electricity. He was like Scrooge McDuck his whole life until he got sick and nearly died. Now, he wants to give it all away, like some Make-A-Wish foundation thing. So I'm like, dude, I'm in. Grant me a wish. I visited the website and paid the fee because you have to invest before you can divest. So we text, and he says he believes I have what it takes, and I know I do. I've been working on it forever. Then he says we should meet at 5 am in the desert before sunrise.

There I was, freezing my butt off when the dude rolls up in a Tesla, the new one that looks like a child designed it with a protractor, and they just went with it. He gets out, and his hair is all wild, like something out of a futuristic movie. His eyes seem to have seen more than I have. "Take this," he said, handing me a metal box, the kind you might find at a bake sale, but cheaper. Then he started walking.

We walked forever, past giant cactuses like in the Road Runner cartoons, then he stops and asks for the box. I hand it over, and he opens it. It's still dark, so I can't see what's inside, but he starts chanting, really getting into it, and I step back. Then he grabs me, pulls me close, and yells, "THIS IS THE SECRET OF THE UNIVERSE!" so loudly I'm startled. He thrusts the box at me, and I look inside. Empty. Not a thing inside, and here I am, having dragged myself out of bed for this nonsense. This guy isn’t going to help me with my dream of words, my quest.

I walk away, leaving the crazy guy where he stands. I get to my beat-up Honda, and it won't start. Now I'm stranded in the middle of nowhere with this lunatic. I thought about just taking his Tesla, but that's not me. So I walked back into the desert, past the cactuses, but the guy was gone. There's nowhere to hide out there unless you're the size of a cricket, and this guy was anything but.

I tripped over the box; it was still lying there in the dirt. I sat down right there. What else was I going to do? You're thinking the box was full now, right? Like some Harry Potter magic happened, and it was filled with cash or gold bars or a rare Pokémon, a talisman, or weed or something. It was not. I really wanted my fifty bucks back. I wanted my deal, my break. I didn't want to be freezing in the middle of nowhere. I threw the box down, then got up and kicked it. I walked back to the road.

My car was still there. The Tesla was gone, probably drove itself back to wherever it came from. This time, my car started, and let me tell you, I was happy to hear that engine. The sun was rising, and I just drove straight into it, listening to my music.

That's when I saw them, a whole family of armored armadillos crossing the road. It felt like some kind of sign. I slowed down and stopped until the tiniest one had crossed to the other side.