Frequently Asked Questions

Instructions for a toaster oven, clearly.

Our lawyers have advised us to say that any laughter incurred may be a precursor to early onset dementia and you should be checked by a doctor.  

It means all of us are absolutely, definitely getting out of here alive and with the suitcase full of diamonds.

A huge waste of time first and foremost. Also, a distraction from my raging case of gout.  But basically, pictures and words. 

Here's the basics for you cretons:

• A human used AI to create the images.
• A human wrote all the words.
• A human did the designs. (Definitely not worth the $50.)
• A termite mound, three high-schoolers previously on their way to a math competition and the High Commissar of Public Dissemination and Entropy for Dimension 137-Z built the website. 

We just fucking said that!

Yes, two things. A walnut wood chiming wall clock.

Oh, what a genius-level subversive question, you basic bitch.  No fun. No dancing. No music. No tits and ass.  No manipulated images or videos of real people. No videos of an  AI-Sylvester Stallone selling fish oil. And let us stress this once more. You will not find AI images without context or brainless, low-hanging-fruit puns that rely on AI's ability to create wild images.  

For instance, let's say I wanted to write a poem about Sylvester Stallone and   "Still Rester Da'Bone." 

Fuck that. Fuck that noise. Not now, not ever. You won't find any cheap shit like that here.

I don't know. Maybe we'll show more tits.

Hopefully. But what you won’t find are violent, cruel or exploitative images. (Sorry, I tried.) You also won’t find doctored images of famous people selling anything. Or doctored pictures of nude celebrities fucking anything. That is, unless you pay the $49 monthly fee. 

Ugh, what a dumb  question. Truth be told, the ideas were all from rejected scripts for the hit 1980s show MacGyver that someone uploaded to the internet. 

Unequivocally, yes. Although I know those glory-hungry bastards at the AI Foundation for Curing Childhood Leukemia might disagree.

First, I get an idea in my head. Then I tell my cat Missy to see if it's worth pursuing. Then I pour a tall glass of tawny port, put on some heel-less slippers and prostrate myself to the new god AI and beg it to show me the way.

Only to my vestigial twin, Mark.  Otherwise, there will be...consequences.

Not technically a question, but it's fair point.

No idea. Didn't write the simulation.

Dad, is that you?  I understand. Really. This stuff is not everyone’s cup of tea. But perhaps this will resonate with someone out there. Because, despite what our therapist and podiatrist say, we really can’t be that unique.