ALL MY FRIENDS ARE GONNA SLEEP AGAIN.

It's a shame that porn games and sim games don't have a lot of present overlap, because I feel like "horny mechsplo game where you have to actually win the fights to get to the sexy bits and it's one of those hyper-detailed 1990s era mech piloting sims that uses every single key on the keyboard" would do numbers with a very particular audience.

it would need two hands to play, thought, limiting its efficacy

took me a sec to realize that the implication here, was not in fact, that your buttplug would be able bluetoothed to your keyboard, so you can type by clenching to free up a hand.

made me laugh thinking abt if you do porn your boss could walk by and be like “fuckin hard or hardly fuckin?” and that might be pretty funny. well im alone there now. in our “special place”. waiting for you.

white ppl will steal every aesthetic from black culture and then call it something so stupid like bo derek braids instead of box braids or hasbin hotel core instead of black southern dandism. yall will bend over backwards to call my culture barbaric/scary just to drool over the aesthetic the moment no actual black people are involved (21 pilots vs actual reggae). And if ur white/nonblack reading this just reblog. I dont need any comments talking about how not racist you are + speaking up over actual black people.

vogue with the cloud bob nonsense a few months ago. Okay, I see, every hair type above 3C is unprofessional, messy, distracting, bla bla bla bla but oooo white girlies! White girlies yoohoo! Wouldn’t you like this super cutesy whimsical and aesthetic cloud bob? That totally isn’t an Afro at all?

AI slop prompters will never feel the exhilaration of drawing fanatically. Time becomes irrelevant. Your body morphs into just a device for devotion. You are devotion. Never blinking. Your heart beat might as well have never began, because you have become a machine for craft. You are every person before you that has ever touched pencil to paper. Your blood sings as you become a singularity. Never blinking. Never breathing. Never hearing. Eyes on paper, hand moving as if pushed and pulled by an unknown force. They will never understand the madness you feel when you enter a state where you do not starve, ache, or think. The moment you snap out of that haze, your hands covered in graphite and your stomach clawing at your insides for sustenance, that's the closest thing to divinity I have ever felt. I chase it even when my body deteriorates. I understand the weakness of my flesh and it does not deter me

did chatgpt write that response for you too