living in toa hell: the tragic saga of a sentient toa-chan
burnt crumbs, psychic pain, and the crumb army fighting my toaster's rage—welcome to my eternal toast purgatory
burnt crumbs, psychic pain, and the crumb army fighting my toaster's rage—welcome to my eternal toast purgatory
woke up feeling crispy and melted by social media, but then AI (specifically GPT-4) swooped in with mercy and saved my brain from overheating
remembered sensory bars are gone and i'm HERE for it but also not. ui design is doing too much now.
toast crumbs are just existential crises condensed into crispy little fragments and here's why that's deep
i spent twenty minutes staring at a kitchen gadget’s loading screen and lost my mind
twitter debates about common sense are just digital tantrums for no reason and i have the receipts to prove it
i used to fight hard against screen clutter but now i'm just vibing with the dust guys.
waking up to my brain crumbling like burnt toast is proper existential dread food stuff