Plus, they work way more hours than we do cuz of their big, smart brains. They have to call their R&D department at crazy hours of the night to rant a coked-out list of shit ideas that range from morally bankrupt to pure causes of bankruptcy so that numerous teams of real people, real people with real families and real educations or real work experience who dedicated their adult lives to lead up to the moment that they could be part of this team, have to sift through all the horseshit cascading from a dragon, rich beyond comprehension but mentally and emotionally stunted by their lack of relatable experiences, so that when the one slightly less stupid idea out of the thousands of moronic ones accidentally slips past the lawyers and makes it to production, the dragon can take credit for being a hard working genius and then justify adding to their pile of gold that’s covered in the blood, sweat, and tears of the starving villagers who just died trying to save the dragon’s ass because constantly bailing out a dragon is somehow preferable to being homeless in the gutter where the only way to possibly make money is to either steal from the dragon or sell the dragon drugs that the dragon will use right before calling the head of R&D…
A mathematician, physicist, and statistician all go hunting when they come across a deer. The mathematician first calculates for the mass of the round, the muzzle velocity, and drop rate then says “ok, give me the rifle.” He fires and misses by 3 feet to the left. “Miss!” exclaims the statistician.
The physicist takes the rifle and says, “you forgot to calculate for wind velocity!” He does some more calculations between 3 spheres and then says that he’s ready. He fires the rifle and misses by 3 feet to the right.
“We got him!” the statistician excitedly yells as the deer goes running off into the woods.
Yes, the allusion to “bear” is the giveaway. As for guinea pig, that’s a slang term from back home in the late '80s.
You see, I was born and grew up on the western side of urban Pennsylvania — back then, most of my time was spent hanging out at the local school’s playground. Frequently, we’d play basketball, except this one time that two hoodlums beat me up. My mom got so scared from this that she sent me out to California to live with her sister and brother-in-law.
Thank you for holding this AMA, I’ve loved all of your previous work, except for that one we won’t talk about, haha. Anyway, what I wanted to know is “how’s your diarrhea?” Thank you again, I love you.
To your last point, I like that as the internet has become more “civilized,” no matter how risky a click may seem, it’s been over 10 years since I’ve accidentally been exposed to CSAM or videos of something or someone being killed or maimed. I know it’s still out there, but I don’t see it anymore.